Monasticism -- in all its many forms -- is not the property of the Christian tradition. It has arisen in many traditions, including Buddhism and Hinduism. There is an intersection between monastic spirituality and mysticism -- and every tradition has given rise to mystics, people who might best be described as focusing more on the experience of the sacred in order to see past illusion to the heart of spirituality.
What is fascinating -- and instructive -- is that the mystics of different traditions tend to get along quite well with one another. They may use different language and different metaphors, but they have wide agreement about the things that are important. One finds in them compassion, generosity, non-judgment, and a kind of flexibility and willingness to live more with questions than answers. They also tend to be pretty happy with their lives.
This is in contrast to what one often finds among people who lie outside the monastic/mystical movement, people who we might say are more wedded to an institutional spirituality, one that depends very much on the formalities of religious observance and the life of religious non-monastic communities. Get these people together, and one tends to find a lot of arguing about what is truth, what is right and wrong, who is in and who is out, what is acceptable and not acceptable. One also finds a tendency among such folks to elevate their own tradition to the status of exclusively true over against other traditions -- one of the reasons they have trouble getting along. There is often a much more limited compassion and generosity among such people, a greater willingness to pass judgment, and much less flexibility. They tend to have a discomfort with questions and are more invested in having the answers.
I spent almost all of my life in an institutional mode of spirituality, one that depended very much on the formalities of church and church community. At the same time, however, I have long felt that something was missing, and had a fascination with the mystical movements of every tradition, and a growing interest in what is often called the new monasticism -- ways of living out the spiritual life that are less institutional and more focused on experiencing the sacred. It is firmly in this new monastic mode that I now find myself.
After earning the wrath and disfavor of the church, I found myself wondering if there was anything left for me in terms of religion. I even found myself wondering if I really had any faith anymore. I passed through a period when I really stopped having any sort of spiritual practice. In retrospect, it was a sign of a spirituality that was deeply dependent on the institutional formalities of religion which, when removed, left something of a void.
Recently, I have come back to my spiritual life and to spiritual practice, in a new monastic mode. I am not a monk. But I would say that I am a monastic in the sense that I am trying to live my spiritual life more intentionally, which includes attending to a set of spiritual practices. It is always a danger to have a strictly self-referential spiritual life. Indeed, the essence of the spiritual life is to find meaning in an appreciation of the transcendent, that sense that life is more than the sum of its parts. It is really a seeking of The More, which paradoxically calls one both deeply inward and outward. And so I am now living out my own spiritual life in fellowship with the Lindisfarne Community, an ecumenical assemblage of folk, many of whom have not had the greatest experience of institutional religious life. That community provides something of a structure and frame of reference outside myself, and some measure of accountability.
My own journey has helped me to see the limits of what we might call traditional Christian parish or congregational life. Very often, I think, when the spiritual life is very tied to an institution, it becomes limited by the horizons of that institution. And, in my experience, most parishes or congregations are forever locked in the mode of introductory spirituality, and find it difficult to move into anything deeper and broader.
I would dare say now that at some point, we must be willing to grow beyond institutional spirituality if we are to venture into deeper waters. Staying close to the shore makes sense as we are starting out. Eventually, however, we need to wonder what lies on the other side of the ocean, and put our boats in deeper. Probably the most necessary spiritual growth happens once we lost sight of the shore, and see only the vast ocean around us. Where we experience its power, and realize that power is beyond any name or conception. It is somewhat terrifying. But it is also the place where life is truly to be found.
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