Maps for the Journey: Developmental Models and the Spiritual Life Part 3: Enablers of Progress

                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Photo by Panos Sakalakis on Unsplash 

In our first blog on Maps for the Journey: Developmental Models and the Spiritual Life, we introduced the concept of models of the spiritual journey and their importance to our development. In our second post, we examined factors that lead many to resist such models and/or become stuck along the path of developmental progression. In this third and final entry of this short series, we take a look at the opposite, that is, enablers of progress along the journey of spiritual development.

Waking Up, Growing Up, Cleaning Up

It comes as no surprise that more than one type of growth is needed for our spiritual maturation to be well-rounded. One type may be referred to as the journey of Waking Up, that is, the journey of living with an ever-increasing awareness of—and sense of union with—the presence of God in which we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:28). Another might be spoken of as the process of Growing Up, of examining and expanding the interpretive frameworks by which we make sense of reality. And a third could be labeled Cleaning Up, naming the means by which, in partnership with the Spirit, we carefully cultivate our interior landscapes, slowly shaping our very character into Christlikeness.

But wherever the growth-emphasis might be placed during a given season of life (whether on Waking Up, Growing Up, or Cleaning Up), there is an overarching principle of developmental progression that applies in virtually every circumstance. Ken Wilber calls this “the single most important point about development,” [1] a point made by professor Robert Kegan of Harvard’s Graduate School of Education:

“I know of no better way to summarize development than that the subject of one stage becomes the object of the subject of the next stage.”

It may be worth reading that a few more times, for untangling this enigmatic sentence may very well unleash new possibilities for many who feel stuck or stagnant in their journeys of spiritual growth.

Learning to “Look At” What We “Look Through”

Kegan’s words may sound somewhat abstruse at first, but their meaning is fairly straightforward. By them he speaks of the process by which the beliefs, worldviews, and interpretive lenses that are looked through at various stages of our development become objects of reflection that are looked at for the sake of movement toward higher levels or stages. James Fowler echoes this sentiment, stating that, in his research on the course of faith development, he detected “a phenomenon that occurs in some form with each of the major transitions…The operations that were constitutive of the previous stage become the objects of reflection for the next stage.” 

Allow me to offer a personal example by way of illustration.

I was raised in a Pentecostal household and inherited many beliefs and interpretive mechanisms accordingly. These helped me make sense of my life and spiritual experience; they were critical lenses through which I looked at the world. Among them was one of the central doctrines of our denomination, a “fundamental truth,” as it was called, namely, that the initial physical evidence of the baptism of the Holy Spirit is speaking in tongues.

This lens caused me to see the world, even the world of Christians, as split in two. There were those who were baptized in the Holy Spirit (evidenced by their speaking in tongues) and those that weren’t: the Holy Spirit “haves” and “have nots.” Everything and everyone was viewed through this lens, and it helped me interpret some experiences that would otherwise have been too vexing for my young spirituality to handle. For example, when I heard about or witnessed the unsavory behavior of various Christian leaders, I had a simplistic explanatory mechanism ready-and-waiting: “Oh, they must not have been baptized in the Holy Spirit! If they were, they’d be behaving better.” This was an immature perspective, no doubt, but it was one that helped me make sense of what I was experiencing, even if that sense-making was misguided.

In time, though, my pool of interactions with those whose spiritual lives did not include speaking in tongues grew. And wouldn’t you know it, many of them behaved just as well, if not better, than the Pentecostals who raised me. Though initially disorienting, I was eventually forced to look at the Pentecostal lens I had always looked through. I was forced to make one of the “fundamental truths” of my inherited spirituality an object of reflection, asking myself questions like, “Where did I get this belief from? Does it really seem to hold water? Does it help me understand reality as it actually is, or does it seem to invite me to reject the evidence of my lived-experience for the sake of keeping an inherited system intact?” By finally looking at a lens I had always looked through, I was able to grow beyond an interpretive framework that had once served me well but had since become too limiting.

A Paradoxical Key

Embedded in this set of reflections is a paradoxical key to the life of faith, one that unlocks the absolutely vital capacity to make subject into object, to make that which is looked through into that which is looked at. Brian McLaren brings it to the fore, “Growth from one stage to another usually requires us to doubt the assumptions that give shape to our current stage.” [2] Counterintuitive though it may initially seem, doubt is the key.

Without it, almost no one would think to critically examine their current perspectives, leading to the disturbing possibility of a lifetime equilibration at any developmental stage. Imagine, for example, if I had been unwilling to doubt the beliefs I had inherited regarding the baptism of the Holy Spirit. I would still be splitting the Christian world in two to this day.

To perpetually squash doubt, then, as is the recommendation of many conservative spiritual systems, is to perpetually squash the precious opportunities for growth it offers. To make space for it, on the other hand, is to make space for developmental progression. It is for this reason that Fowler unequivocally claims that “substantive doubt must be a part of the life of faith.” It is for this reason that the “Psalms of Disorientation” model for us what it looks like to boldly, prayerfully question the book of Proverbs when its clean formulations aren’t working in real life. It is for this reason that Paul Tillich once famously asserted, “Doubt is not the opposite of faith; it is an element of faith.”

A Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus, it is my prayer that each and every person bearing your name would progress along the spiritual path.
May we never settle for stagnation.
May we develop the courage of the psalmists—the courage to doubt—and may we stay in intimate conversation with you throughout our faith-doubt journeys.
May we wake up, grow up, and clean up in Christ Jesus. It’s in his name we pray: Amen!

[1] Quoted in Wilber, The Religion of Tomorrow, 105.

[2] McLaren, Faith After Doubt, 43.