The Evangelical Ascetic

Thoughts on spirituality in practice from Bishop Stephen Scarlett

Ascetic: One who engages in a pattern of spiritual exercise to pursue holiness and grow closer to God.

Humanity and Christ

by

The word “human” is, for us, synonymous with words like “flawed” and “sinful.” We excuse our foibles and failures by saying, “We’re only human.” Christmas reveals this to be a false premise. For Jesus is human, but not flawed or sinful. In fact, our sins reveal that we are yet fully human. We are only in the process of becoming by grace what Jesus is by nature.

Jesus is fully human. He will eat, drink and celebrate. He will fast, weep and mourn. He will experience pain and pleasure, joy and anger, disappointment and frustration. He will be popular, then rejected by all. He will suffer and die and then he will rise from the dead—because he is also God and God cannot be held by death. Easter is the inevitable result of Christmas.

But Jesus will never worship an idol or act in malice. He will never use another person to get something for himself. He will never gossip about others to make himself feel good. He will never ignore the will of God and the good of others for pleasure, power or profit. He will never mistake lust for love. Jesus will bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, endure all things (1 Cor. 13). In other words, Jesus will be fully human.

In the Christmas collect we ask God to grant that “we, being regenerate, and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit” (BCP 96). Through baptism and faith, we have become fully human sons and daughters of God. We have become by grace what Christ is by nature. Thus, we are no longer stuck in sub-human patterns of behavior.

The twelve-day season of Christmas is a time to experience again the gift of genuine humanity—and then to bear witness to what we have experienced. The Word made flesh has come to us; now the Word made flesh comes to others through us. As fully human sons and daughters of God, may our renewed humanity change our homes and families and the places where we work and play. For Christmas enables us to be not “only” human, but fully and genuinely human.

Fasting and Prayer for Mission during Trinity Season

by

In our diocese, we are resuming the practice of fasting and praying for the mission of the church on Wednesdays during the Trinity season. To fast means to abstain from or reduce our intake of food or some other pleasure or activity. We ask people to pray The Litany for the Church and Evangelism. Thus, the discipline is some form of fasting and a particular form of prayer.

Fasting should take into account our health, stage of spiritual growth and practical circumstances related to our daily work or activities. Some may be able to fast all day until Evening Prayer or Communion. Some may fast one meal. Some may abstain from snacks and eat in a simpler manner.  Electronics ought to be included; turning off the radio and practicing silence; avoiding non-work related computer and social media usage. We should fast from our main pleasures. Fasting (at least) a day a week from our main enjoyments helps us not to become captive to them. Our fast may adjust and grow from week to week as we listen to the voice of God and learn to enjoy our separation from things.

We can contrast the ongoing Trinity season fast with the Lenten fast. Lent is a focused season of fasting with the defined goal of Easter. Our Trinity season fast deals with habits of life over a longer period of time. Lent is the intense workout. Trinity is the sustainable program. We should adopt a practice we can continue for an extended season, but that also challenges us to grow. If we practice this fast for the next half year, it will cultivate in us detachment, self-control and contemplation.

The Bible expects us to fast (Matthew 6:16), but fasting is an under-practiced discipline. In our overindulged culture, people get trapped in compulsive and addictive behaviors. Fasting, combined with prayer, is the main tool God has given us to combat excessive appetites. The only way to learn self-control is to practice going without the things we enjoy. Fasting creates a space; Christ enters that space through prayer and fills our emptiness with himself (Philippians 4:11-13).

How is personal growth in self-control and virtue related to the mission of the church? It is, in fact, the essential thing. Our mission is to bear witness to Christ; this means to bear witness to what Christ is doing in us. Unless we are experiencing the power and grace of God in our lives through prayer and the practice of spiritual disciplines, we will have little to show. This is the main problem in contemporary evangelism. There is too much talk about Jesus, but not enough experience of God’s power—too much intellectual explanation and too little growth in holiness and virtue.

The practice of fasting during Trinity is an opportunity to grow in our main areas of struggle. What is your main area of weakness? What is your most besetting temptation? Make this a focus of fasting and prayer during Trinity. If you persevere in it for this season (and beyond) you will experience progress. Your growth will add to the story of what Christ is doing amongst us.

Whatsoever Things Are Excellent

by

When we think about spiritual disciplines we tend to focus on the details of our prayer. There are, however, other important questions. What do we give our attention to? Where do we invest our emotions? We can unwittingly waste much energy on worthless things.

If we observe the nature of the discourse that is presented to us in the various forms of media, we have to come to an unavoidable conclusion. Much of the discourse that fills time in our world is shallow. The details of the tragedy, political fight or stock market performance are communicated clearly enough, but when we get to analysis and narrative, the issues are seldom unpacked in meaty ways. The discussion invariably devolves into the idea that there are only two ways to look at any issue, and with the representatives of those views yelling at each other. Media forces all conversation into its popular shape—and then it’s off to three minutes of inane commercials.

The best representatives of a view are almost never on the popular shows. When they are there is not sufficient time to articulate the nuances of the truth—there is only so much time before the next commercial. The internet can be worse because all sources look alike. The latest crackpot with a decent looking website becomes the expert. A while back there was an internet debate about creation and evolution. The contestants were a popular TV science teacher and someone from a “creation research” organization, who believes in a “young earth” (a view held by a small minority of Christians worldwide). With all due respect to the combatants and their training, they did not present the listeners with the full range of current ideas in their highest and best forms. Nonetheless, many listeners thought they were hearing the case for science or religion—there is a popular media fiction that you can’t have both.

I recently attended a parents’ weekend at my son’s college. A professor gave the parents a thirty minute talk about the lessons Lawrence of Arabia can teach us about the current Middle East conflict. There was more wisdom in those thirty minutes than I’ve heard in ten years of news coverage about the region. The nature of the media conversation does not allow for intelligent, reflective discourse.  The only options are to choose a side and argue with the goal that your side will win.

I offer a couple of counsels in response. First, Christians should resist getting sucked in to this continuous and mindless chatter that is largely driven by commercial interests. It is easy to get caught up in the fight and invest great emotional energy in a battle that will not be won, has little to do with reality, and is created specifically so that people will watch, listen or log on. It is spiritually distracting and fuels all sorts of unworthy emotions. The virtue of not getting caught up is called “detachment.”

Second, we should beware of the temptation to fight the genuinely good fight by the rules we unconsciously adopt from the media. It is tempting to enter into the fray and argue for God as though we must win public opinion via the media to win the spiritual battle. Marshall McLuhan taught us that “the medium is the message.” When we choose a shallow and argumentative medium, we send the message that faith in God is just another opinion vying for 51% of the vote. The church should cultivate a more thoughtful conversation, and the church should be better at listening.

This is not an exhortation to put our heads in the sand and avoid all media. It is an exhortation to be watchful (Revelation 3:2). Our habitual engagement with media has a profoundly formative impact on us. We should be aware of this and make wise decisions about how we will invest our time and emotional energy (Philippians 4:8).

Lenten Practicalities

by

Lent is once again upon us–along with the question, “What are you going to do for Lent?” The overall theme is that we will “eat less and exercise more.” We will cut down on our consumption of various things, and we will add spiritual disciplines.

Rule versus rules

The great danger of Lent is that we will observe it as a list of “rules” rather than as a “rule.” A rule is a standard or pattern for the life of prayer. Some sort of rule is necessary for progress in most areas of life. “Rules” tend to become laws that we keep on a merely human level, and they come to define our sense of righteousness. The difference between the two is highlighted by how we look at failure.

The purpose of failure

We may fail to observe our “rule” in some way for a few reasons. First, a given circumstance may call for relaxation. For example, I used to take communion to a older woman in her home. She always enjoyed having a glass of wine with me afterwards–a sort of social hour. I took her communion during Lent and afterwards she offered me a glass of wine. Even though my Lenten rule included abstinence from alcohol, I had the glass of wine with her because it meant a lot to her. A healthy rule is able to give way to the demands of agape.

Second, we may fail to keep our rule because of our human weakness. We may eat or consume the thing we said we wouldn’t because we “give in” in a weak moment. Our reaction to this is the litmus test of whether we keep a rule or rules. If we see our Lenten observance as a list of rules, we will view our weakness as a complete Lenten failure. We will feel guilty and be hard on ourselves. Our failure will likely become habitual and it may lead to us to give up our Lenten rule altogether.

If we observe a rule, we will see our failure as a revelation of a weakness that we need to work on. We will pray that God will give us more self-control in that area, treat the failure with grace and simply resume our rule the next day–without guilt or self-recrimination. The proper analogy here is to physical exercise. If we resolve in our workout to do four sets of forty pushups, and then discover as we exercise that we are only able to do one set of forty, one set of thirty and two sets of twenty, we did not fail. Rather, we discovered that we were not as strong as we thought we were. It would obviously be counterproductive to stop working out because of our failure. The workout is precisely the thing that will make us stronger. When failure leads us to give up our practice of fasting, it reveals a spiritual pride that is far more serious than the failure. Fasting is not about you; it is about what God is doing in you.

Third, we may fail because our rule is too ambitious. It is a common error for those who take on a program of exercise to try to do too much. Lent should challenge us but not crush us.

Factors to consider in establishing a rule

There are specific things each of us ought to consider when determining what our own rule will be. The first is our level of spiritual maturity. How long have you been a practicing Christian? How long have you practiced habitual spiritual disciplines? How many Lenten fasts have you observed? For example, I think this is the thirty-fourth year that I have observed Lent in some serious way. My approach to Lent will necessarily be different than it is for someone for whom this is the first or second practice of the season.

Second, our practice of Lent should be connected to the areas in which we need and want to experience spiritual growth. In what areas of life are you experiencing temptation? What bad habits are you stuck in? What appetites are you not able to control? We should practice doing without the things that we have trouble doing without. When this kind of fasting is combined with prayer that connects us with God and fills us with the Spirit in new ways, we will experience new freedom as a result of the fast. We should pray in particular for the virtues that stands opposite our most besetting temptations. It is less helpful to abstain from things that we have no trouble abstaining from. For example, some people have no trouble with self-control with regard to food. The fast of food is not a big deal for them. A fast of electronics or media might hit closer to home.

Electronics and media are the primary ways that our contemporary fast should be different from that of the ancients. They did not have electronics. Most of us must include this in our fast if our fast is to be meaningful. In general, younger people should focus on disconnecting from their cell phones and computers for specific and extended periods of time. The constant connection to electronic devices keeps us from listening to God and being present with others. Older people should focus on disconnecting from their T.V. I often hear from some how angry the news makes them. Lent is a good time to turn the news off, add times of prayer and silence and remember that Jesus is Lord. Most of us have way too much “noise” and distraction in our lives. To grow in the life of prayer we must necessarily learn to grow in the practice of stillness and silence.

Third, age and station in life should impact our observance of Lent. The fast of food should be relaxed with age and for reasons of health. The goal is to grow spiritually, not destroy yourself physically. Also the fast must take into account the demands of work and family. As we grow in our practice of spiritual disciplines, we will have less trouble combining fasting with work. But beware of trying to do  too much too soon. Spiritual growth is a long term project. Stretch yourself, but don’t crush yourself.

The basic rule as a point of departure

Our basic rule is this. Ash Wednesday and Good Friday are days of complete fasting from food. The daily fast is one full meal and two smaller portions. Additionally, we fast from pleasures like alcohol, tobacco and sweets. The calendar calls for “abstinence” on Wednesday and Fridays. This means no flesh meat. Our added prayer will begin with faithful Sunday participation in the Eucharist and, perhaps, the addition of a mid-week mass. We should be more disciplined in our praying of the daily offices, and we should include additional times of conversational prayer, meditation, or contemplation. This basic rule should be embraced and adjusted by each person in accordance with the discussion above.

Lent is an opportunity for spiritual growth. We enter into the wilderness with Jesus for forty days in order to create space in our lives for God to do new things. If we view Lent in the right way, it is an exciting season of opportunity that will prepare us for a joyous celebration of Easter.

The Fruits of the Fast

by

Our youth group has raised funds in the past by participating in a thirty hour fast or “famine.” It ends with communion followed by a meal. After the fast one year, I remember watching as a young man, understandably hungry from the ordeal, fell upon his meal like a famished lion upon a defenseless wildebeest. I pass no judgment on the young man; he had not fasted before and I think the event was spiritually profitable for him. However, this image came to mind as I was thinking about the relationship of the Easter Feast to the Lenten Fast. Is Easter simply a time to cast off all Lenten restraint and replace abstinence and moderation with over indulgence?

An Easter sermon by St. Augustine has stuck in my mind over the years. His theme was keeping “the fruits of the fast.” When I first read it he sounded to me like a bit of a killjoy. It was time for the Easter party and here was the great church father sending me back into wilderness. Of course, he was right. We spend an extended season fasting and praying with the goal of making progress in the faith. In Eastertide we ought to consider what that progress is. What new insight, grace or strength have we gained? How do we hold on to it? If Lenten self-denial becomes Easter gluttony, we may not have gained much except an eating disorder.

One fruit of the fast is detachment. We become less attached to things. This is not the same as not enjoying things. Detachment frees us from idolatry. It enables us to enjoy things as gifts rather than as objects of worship. We can say yes because we can say no—which means that our yes is rightly ordered and more joyful. We gain self-control—especially if we are careful not to regress into all of our old bad habits. If fasting was joined with an increase in prayer, we will have grown in a sense of prayerfulness, which will include a greater experience of inner peace. In Eastertide, the prayer of penitence and petition becomes the prayer of praise and thanksgiving. This also takes practice—and is important. If we were as faithful to give thanks and praise God in prosperity as we are to cry out in times of need, we might find that things go better more often.

Each person will experience the particular fruits for which each has fasted and prayed. There are many virtues and dispositions (peace, joy, wisdom, contentment, an increased experience of grace, patience) that God will grant if they were the subject of a long season of prayer and fasting. The fruits of the Lenten fast are also cumulative. After, say, five Lents, the fruits become more deeply rooted and habitual. Like plants and children, spiritual things grow in a healthy way when we devote ourselves to the things that facilitate growth over long periods of time.

Contrary to my early reading of St. Augustine, the fruits of the fast actually make the feast more enjoyable. When our disordered desires and unhealthy attachments are diminished and our prayerful sense of God’s presence is increased, we are more able to joyfully partake of the good things God gives us. The devil keeps many people from faith with the lie that disobedience brings greater pleasure. One long term fruit of the Lenten fast is that we learn just how big a lie that really is.

Failure in the Spiritual Battle

by

Our pattern for Lent is the temptation of Jesus in the Wilderness. Jesus fasted, prayed and fought the battle against the temptations of world, flesh and devil. He kicked some ass, sending the devil away as a conquered foe. Would that our spiritual battles always went so smoothly!

If we fight a real battle, losing is real possibility. In fact, we are going to lose some episodes of the spiritual battle. Since our process of change into the image of the Son of God is not yet complete, our behavior will not always mirror his. This is why our liturgies contain confessions and this is why Confession is a sacrament.

The word temptation can also mean test. The meaning depends upon the perspective. The devil tempts us. He wants us to sin. But God tests us our faith. His purpose in allowing it to happen is to see how strong our faith is. When we fail a test, it reveals that we were not as spiritually strong as we thought we were—or maybe we knew we were weak and were not appropriately watchful. The answer is to learn and grow. When we fail a test in school, we study harder try to do better on the next one. When we fail in the spiritual battle, we should assess the reasons for the failure and make changes. Was it is a neglect of prayer or accountability? Did we foolishly enter into circumstances of great temptation? Or, did we just want to sin?

Failure can be a means of growth. When we fail, we experience again the consequences of sin—guilt, shame, fear and alienation from God and others. The momentary taste of spiritual death can strengthen our resolve in the future. We can realize, “I don’t want this.” This can renew our commitment to the preventative disciplines of grace that will guard against future failures. Much of our failure is at the level of the will. We say we don’t want to sin, but we are often in the position of “wanting to not want to sin.” Jesus will always ask us the question he posed to the man at the pool of Bethesda, “Do you want to get well?” (John 5:6).

The devil’s goal is not merely that we sin. Sin is a means to the end of getting us to give up our faith. He wants the cumulative effect of failure to be despair. He is tempter and accuser. Having succeeded in the first task, he takes up the second. He wants us to say, “You are right. There is no hope for me.” This is the faithless attitude—and also a lie: “for Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners” (1 Timothy 1:15).

This is why perseverance is the mark of genuine faith. Genuine faith falls, but it gets up; it continues to return, confess, receive forgiveness and resume the battle; it continues to believe the promises of God and grows through failure. Thus, the long term impact of failure in the spiritual battle depends upon what we do next.

Spiritual Direction

by

Spiritual direction is rooted the truth that we are likely to wander into difficulties if we rely entirely on our own advice. The completely self-taught man has a fool for a student, and the completely self-directed Christian has a fool for a client and a guide. Here we confront a prevailing error of the consumer culture. We are so used to believing that whatI think and want are the most important things that we have difficulty submitting to the counsel of another. Yet we are called to submit to one another in the fear of God (Ephesians 5:21)

There is a problem of finding competent people to act as spiritual directors. This problem seems to have a two-fold cause. First, because the church adopted so many assumptions of the consumer and marketing culture, it tended to form pastors and priests who fit that model. There has been an emphasis on oratory, appearance and a message that impacts life in some “practical” way right now. Introspective souls who are devoted to the life of prayer—who do the more mundane work of spiritual horticulture over time—have not been valued and produced in large number.

Second, because the church has valued theology over ascetic, it has tended to produce intellectuals who can defend and explain the faith rather than saints who can model and direct others in the life of prayer. We have taught people to teach the faith rather than to direct the faithful. The renewal of the church requires that we change this emphasis.

A root problem is how we look at the Christian life in the first place. What do we think we are doing in the Christian life? What is its aim and goal? There are few wrong answers. One is that we believe in Christ in order to make us happy; another is that faith is present to help us in times of crisis; still another is that faith is mainly an insurance policy against hell.

Now, practicing the Christian faith over time will make us happier (more contented and fulfilled), help us to negotiate difficult times and save us from judgment and eternal separation from God. However, these are the fruit of faith and not its main focus. The proper focus of the Christian life is on continual progress in holiness towards the goal of resurrection and life in the world to come. Spiritual direction has this focus and goal.

Spiritual direction will lead us to ask, what is God doing in my life? How is all this stuff working together to make me more like Christ and prepare me for life in the coming kingdom? When we look at life this way we stop asking, why is God doing this to me? And we start asking, what does God mean to accomplish in my life through this?

Spiritual direction requires a community of people that share this perspective; otherwise we will just be lone-ranger spiritual consumers. This is the counter-cultural community of what Thornton calls “the parochial remnant” (Pastoral Theology 24). In the remnant community of those who are serious about the life of prayer, we will find others—those who have been at it a little longer and are a little further down the road—to help us and guide us. If we begin to focus on ascetical theology and spiritual growth, we will produce more spiritual directors—and also more saints.

The Three-fold Rule and the Trinity

by

Martin Thornton proposes that the three-fold Rule of the church is related to the Trinity (He has an extended discussion of this in Pastoral Theology A Reorientation, 192-254, and mentions this briefly in Christian Proficiency, 18). He suggests that the Daily Office is objectively offered to God the Father, the Eucharist is centered on the Incarnate Son of God and personal prayer is centered on the immediate ministry of the Holy Spirit.

Of course, the entire Trinity is involved in every aspect of prayer. All prayer is to Father through the Son in the Spirit. Yet, different types put the focus more on a particular person of the Trinity. The same can be said of God’s revelation of himself. It is always essentially Trinitarian. Yet, Mt. Sinai focuses on the transcendent Father (Exodus 19:16-25), the baptism of Jesus focuses on the Incarnate Son (Matthew 3:16-17) and Pentecost focuses on the Holy Spirit (Acts 2).

Most people prefer one type of prayer over another. The most common contrast is between those who are most drawn to the order and routine of liturgy and those who are most drawn to the spontaneous freedom of extemporaneous prayer. The ascetical emphasis on balance and growth reminds us that we ought not to do only what we feel like doing. Or, to put it another way, our well-being will always require us to do things we don’t naturally feel like doing.

Growth in prayer is best facilitated by a balanced practice of all forms—just as we will get in the best physical shape if we exercise all of our muscles rather than just doing our favorite exercises. Such balance can only be maintained through a commitment to Rule. By habitually assisting in the Eucharist, praying the office and conversing with God, we will develop in new ways, while also continuing to pray according to our natural gift.

Ascetical theology reminds that the purpose of prayer is to form us into the image of Christ. We pray not only to feel good; we also pray also to learn how feel rightly. This is particularly evident in the liturgy. The liturgy scripts for us the role of perfect worshiper. The liturgy does not always express how we feel; but it does express how we ought to feel—or how we would feel if we saw things as they really are. As we pray the liturgy, we learn this new role; we learn to feel differently. Liturgy trains our feelings.

Over time liturgy will provide a proper foundation and formation for personal prayer. If all we have is personal prayer, our prayer will be overly captive to subjective and inherited moods and dispositions. Liturgy provides a formative and corrective balance. And personal “felt” prayer provides a necessary balance for liturgy. For we can become detached from the liturgy, and our participation can become merely rote if we do not learn to bring our feelings with us into it.

The concern for balance requires us to emphasize the types of prayer we are least comfortable with. If we are naturally drawn to the Office, we need to cultivate the personal conversation; and if we are naturally drawn to the extemporaneous, we need to commit to praying the Office. We “need” to do this, that is, if our concern is for spiritual growth over time—if we want to be spiritual athletes in training and not merely religious consumers.

The Three-fold Rule

by

The Book of Common Prayer (BCP) is often viewed as a repository of orthodox faith and prayer and a treasure of English literature; it is less frequently viewed for what is really is: The Rule of prayer for Anglican Christians. This Rule is three-fold. It begins with Holy Communion, to be celebrated on Sunday (the Lord’s Day) and on various other Holy Days. It continues daily with “The Order for Daily Morning (and Evening) Prayer” (BCP 3, 21), with its schedule for praying of the Psalms in a thirty day cycle (345-525) and its lectionary for daily Bible reading (x-xlv). It specifies days of fasting (li). Eucharist and Daily Office assume a practice of personal, conversational prayer. This is the church’s three fold Rule that her members are to join in: Eucharist, Daily Office and personal prayer.

This is the timeless Rule of the church. The Eucharist is the successor to Israel’s temple worship. The temple sacrifices were fulfilled by our Lord on the cross, and the perpetual memorial of that sacrifice had been continually presented before God by the church on the Altar in the Eucharist. The Daily Offices are rooted in the ancient life of prayer that developed among God’s people, especially when Israel was in exile. The Jewish people developed the habit of offering prayers three times a day (morning, noon and evening). These corresponded to the times when sacrifice was offered in the temple. Daniel was thrown into the lion’s den for his refusal to stop his practice of this Rule (Daniel 6:10). In Acts 10, God speaks to both St. Peter and the centurion Cornelius as both were observing these hours of prayer.

The early church continued this habit of observing the hours. The early writing called The Didache exhorted Christians to prayer the Lord’s Prayer three times a day. This developed into the early, three-fold daily office, centered on the Psalms and the reading of Scripture. In the monastic tradition in the west, the three-fold daily office was expanded to seven hours of prayer (based on Psalm 119:164). The Book of Common Prayer reduced this to two hours in order to bring it back with the reach of all Christians and make the daily office the regular daily prayer of the whole church.

Personal prayer developed in a rich variety of ways: silence and contemplation; meditation, especially on particular passages of Scripture and, of course, the regular practice of simply talking with God (and hopefully also listening).

A balanced Rule of prayer in the Anglican tradition involves a commitment to pray habitually in all of these ways: in short, to assist in the Eucharist on Sunday, to pray the Daily Offices in some regular way and to cultivate a personal conversation with God.

It is sometimes alleged that liturgy (Eucharist and Daily Office) stands in opposition to personal prayer. In fact, they depend upon each other for their full effectiveness. Sometimes we don’t feel like praying. The liturgy is objective. We can pray through it whether we feel like it or not. Some form of liturgy is necessary to get us through the dry times. The fixed prayers and readings of the liturgy help our personal prayer, providing a foundation and direction for our conversation with God—and rooting that conversation in the common life of the church.

On the necessity on asceticism

by

This is the first entry in what will be a series of posts about the life of prayer. The perspective will be that of “ascetical theology.”

The word “ascetical” come from a Greek word that means, essentially, “to exercise.” Unfortunately, spiritual exercise under the banner of the ascetical is almost always viewed in extreme forms. Dictionary.com describes an “ascetic” as a person who “practices great self-denial and austerities and abstains from worldly comforts and pleasures.” Wherever the word ascetic appears, words like “extreme,” “rigorous” and “rigid” are not far behind. One thinks of St. Simeon the Stylite, who lived for decades on a small platform atop a pillar, ate almost no food and did not bathe.

Consequently, the very idea of ascetical theology is foreign and intimidating to most contemporary western Christians. However, the call to asceticism is rooted in the simple truth that we live as Christians in bodies. Therefore, what we do in and with our bodies is central to our practice of the faith. The disembodiment of Christian practice has contributed greatly to its ineffectiveness. If salvation is only what I believe in my mind and does not connect with what I do day by day in my body, I am not likely to experience salvation very powerfully. This is a major reason people feel distance from the church. They ask, “Why should I go?” It is a good question.

It is not possible to make progress in the spiritual life without some habitual spiritual exercise, just as it is not possible to make progress in an athletic or musical skill without practice. The essential exercise of the Christian life is prayer. The various disciplines of the Christian life like fasting and almsgiving (Matthew 6) are practiced in order to make our prayer more constant, efficient and effective. It is necessary for most Christians to establish some sort of “Rule” for the practice of the faith. A Rule is not a list of rules. Rather, a Rule of life is pattern for one’s practice of the faith. It is to the life of prayer what a workout routine is to the athlete and the practice routine is to the musician. People do not get better at any skill or task if they do not work at it. The most proficient are usually those with the most regular and disciplined practice habits.

Some people say they do not have the time for prayer and spiritual disciplines. What they are really saying is that they do not have the time to be a Christian. For many, prayer is not a very high priority—until the crisis comes! The truth is that we do what we really want to do. We can spend hours on our favorite hobby or pastime, but have trouble finding minutes for things we’d rather not do. And prayer is an acquired taste. We learn how central it is to genuine peace and joy only by praying and discovering its impact on us over time. Herein is the central issue. Progress in prayer—and, thus, in the Christian life—is only made by acts of the will. We must pursue, as a habit of life, by acts of the will, the things that are eternal.  The alternative is that we will get stuck in patterns of doing only what we “feel” like doing. The result will be that our rewards will always be temporal and fleeting.