I am something of a rationalist when it comes to spiritual practices: there should be a clearly defined reason for them, with observable results.
But, I have this suspicion that this attitude is a product of the western imagination and not necessarily the Christian perspective.
“The Thinker” reflects a certain approach to reality that I find compelling.
Casting Lots
But, spiritual practices are holistic and seek to engage people on many levels. One such activity is not widely present in a positive way in the Bible, but it does exist as a Christian spiritual practice, and serves as a good illustration of the sort of practice that transcends rational decision-making.
Casting lots brings together an element of chance with the influence of the divine for a powerful emotional, social, and personal experience.
As such, the practice unsettles me as a sort of divination practice in the New Testament. For instance, this practice is used to choose Judas’ replacement:
“And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.” (Acts 1:26)
The greater context is that the early Christian community is trying to restore the original number of apostles to twelve, after Judas hanged himself. There are two men put forward and a decision must be made. After a brief prayer, those gathered casts lots to see whom God prefers.
Divination isn’t “safely” left in the Old Testament, where it might be regarded (unfairly to the Jews, who were as sophisticated culturally and intellectually as any other people group) as merely a relic of another era. (In 1 Samuel 14, Saul orders the casting of the urim and thummim–a form of lots associated with the priesthood–to determine someone’s guilt.)
Instead, divination is still present around the beginning of a new era inaugurated by the coming of Christ and subsequently, the arrival of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost.
Divination Today
While there is a reason why the early Christian community cast lots, here, I could imagine an uproar if a church decided to cast lots to resolve a choice among pastoral candidates, for instance.
12-sided dice from a board game seem harmless enough; but is there any reason to turn them into decision-making engines to determine God’s will? The thought makes me uncomfortable.
Yet, my wife grew up in Amish country, and tells me the Amish cast lots to determine which of their congregational elders will preach and what they will preach on.
So, what do we make of this practice then and now? Can we embrace it? On what grounds might we dismiss it?
Fasting
Another practice that I hear very little about is fasting. Whether this is because of Jesus’ command toward secrecy about it or a modern disconnect from the practice is an open question:
“But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” (Matthew 6:12-13)
Nonetheless, if we are supposed to fast, what purpose does it serve? Consider an example from Acts:
“Then after fasting and praying they laid their hands on them and sent them off.” (Acts 13:3)
Here Saul and Barnabas are being commissioned for God’s work. But, why fast as a part of this commissioning? And, why might we fast today?
Modern Fasting
At face value, denying oneself food or drink seems quite foreign to me. Missing a meal isn’t the end of the world, but any connection between skipping food and God’s work feels a bit more tenuous.
Again, more biblical context might shed additional light on the connection to God. Perhaps denying oneself food and drink symbolizes reliance on God to provide, in some way.
But, for many in the west–accustomed as we are to the temptation of eating to excess, aware as we are of the dangers of eating disorders–fasting seems a spiritual practice fraught with cultural tensions.
Miraculous Practices
No less contentious are miraculous spiritual practices: speaking in tongues. The laying on of hands. Anointing with oil for healing.
All of these seem as mystical as anything, but also show up in the New Testament in the early church.
For instance: “For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands,” (2 Timothy 1:6).
Somehow, touching someone else can give them spiritual power?!
Should we be doing that? Under what circumstances? Is there a leading of the Holy Spirit (more mysterious working of God) that would prompt us to do so?
Longing for the Miraculous and the Ordinary
In the face of the above, spiritual practices like bible study and prayer seem so much more benign. Why not focus on those “safe” practices?
Because they aren’t really ordinary, are they. In a real way, they are as strange as casting lots or transferring divine power with our hands.
If you believe God is speaking to you through the words of a book written centuries if not millennia before anything you know existed, then you believe something extraordinary.
If you believe you can speak to an eternal, invisible Person wherever and whenever you wish, and that Person will respond to your requests, potentially by altering the course of your reality, that is uncanny.
Perhaps the answer to “fringe” spiritual practices is not to dismiss them if we see no utility in them, but to use them to humbly reflect on our own spiritual disciplines as the way we interface with a God beyond our understanding.
If we lose sight of the reality of God as transcendent, perhaps it is time to recapture that sense of wonder by reflecting on what we are doing as a spiritual practice and why it is beyond ordinary.
