Early in my journey as a follower of Jesus I remember hearing a sermon on how to grow closer to God and become more like him.

“Read the Bible,” the preacher said, “That’s all it takes. And if you don’t understand it? Read it again.”

For a time, I felt great security in thinking the Bible has the answer to every question in the Christian life. However, I discovered this was spiritually unsustainable. 

I’ve found that the Bible, a beautiful, diverse collection of documents detailing various experiences with God, is one of many tools to help cultivate human spirituality, but not the sole repository of spiritual content and connection. As I grew, I discovered that Christian life is more complex than my Western culture of maxims, either/or philosophy, and quick answers would have me believe. Prayer, self examination, human connection, wise counsel, education, ritual, and service (and often trial and error) have all been necessary to discern how to do his will on earth as it is in heaven.

For me, cultivating spirituality means I take ownership of my faith, growing in tune with Christ, shaped into his likeness, so I can embody him in the world. At Christ City we break down our spiritual life into three overlapping parts: spirit, mind, and body.

With my spirit, I worship:

I collect hymnals and liturgical service books. I could spend hours pouring over the ancient hymns and prayers of a Catholic or Orthodox liturgical book or the life-giving spirituals and litany in the African American Heritage Hymnal. It’s an incredibly emotional experience. I imagine the lives and hearts of countless people colliding with me as their stories are told over and over, coupled with the presence of God intensifying as each word passes over my lips. 

When I worship, my compassion, love, and empathy grow. I connect with God and, through his Spirit, I join his followers, my family. I, like those who went before, am inspired to live with Christ as the forefront of my life.

With my mind, I learn:

Like many evangelicals, I believed daily quiet times were required to experience God. This forced approach to a relationship grew tiresome and unhelpful, as if I were attempting to know my wife by reading a book written about her in another language then translated and filtered through the ideas of hundreds of others.

To rekindle my desire to read the Bible I had to learn how to read it with fresh eyes. Eyes that took into consideration the expansive gulf of time and culture. The process was uncomfortable and difficult. Purposefully challenging my assumptions. I started by reading books with a slightly more scholarly leaning than I was used to. Some of the books that were most formative as I started this journey were What Saint Paul Really Said, God of the Oppressed, The Myth of a Christian Nation, and Faith Unraveled. I began journaling reflections and feelings as I read the Bible anew, making special note of ambiguities. I left myself free to ask uncomfortable questions and I started to see them as sacred – no less painful but a beautiful honesty with God.

As I’ve learned to embrace the unknown in their pages, educating myself on the scriptures has been very important for me. They ground me as I meditate on the great story in which my story belongs.

With my body, I fast:

I thrive best in structure – whether of my own design or that of another. This is why I have found the liturgical calendar very helpful. Designated, communal times of fasting and feasting, reflection and repentance, grief and joy walk every individual through the common cycles of life. Each season is filled with unique sensations, colors, smells, and sounds.

The calendar has encouraged me to explore new physical disciplines like fasting. This is especially hard for me. I find joy in cooking and baking and partaking in the work of my hands. As I fast and the hunger pangs grow, I meditate on the sources of my nourishment: the plant and animal life, the humans that grow and raise them, and the One who holds us together. I contemplate my dependence on all life around me. And through this I find myself with a greater awareness of those who regularly do without because of financial hardship, seeking to serve them in place of myself.

I want to stress that some practices come easier than others, because we are all beautifully diverse and will experience God in different ways. There are many ways to invest in our spirituality and finding what resonates with us takes careful exploration. Cultivating spirituality is a state of constant growth, pruning, and regrowth that I think will last an entire lifetime. The challenge is nurturing what is easy while simultaneously enriching choices, actions, and exercises that don’t come naturally. By investing in such things, this is how I’ve found we grow closer to Christ.

–Ben Higdon

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