Repurposing Spiritual Experiences

One thing I’ve discovered so far in life is that there are two major categories of people, if I can put it that way. These two groups sit at opposite ends of a spectrum. Of course, there are many people somewhere in the middle.

On one end of the spectrum are those who are fully focused on spiritual activities and learning about the things of the spirit. They are fascinated by spiritual realities and have a strong desire to explore everything happening in the spiritual realm. Spiritual experiences excite them. They love learning about angels, demons, and spiritual encounters. They are deeply intrigued by all of it.

I think this can be deceiving because we can become carried away by the fascination and entertainment factor of these things. There is an intrigue to it, a thrill—similar to what people experience when watching a thriller or horror film. It can become exciting in itself.

It can also feed pride and a pompous nature because we begin to associate rare, spectacular, or grand spiritual experiences with spiritual stature. That can quickly lead us down the path of pride, where we simply stack up a catalogue of spiritual experiences.

The deceit lies in the subtle shift of focus. We begin measuring ourselves by how many spiritual experiences we’ve had, as though that were the marker of what is truly important. We forget that these experiences were only ever meant to be a vehicle leading us to Jesus, to God, and to His nature, so that we ourselves would be formed into that same nature.

We lose sight of the destination. We forget where the landing place—the home base—should be: the nature of God, which is gentle, peaceful, loving, and yes, powerful.

The character of God and the fruit of the Spirit are what ground us in Him and ultimately make us godly. We forget that this is the true end goal: to be formed into the character and stature of the man Jesus Christ—the God-man, Jesus Christ.

What, then, do we say about spiritual experiences?

I’ll leave that question for a moment and make my way to the other end of the spectrum.

Who are these people we know to be moral—sometimes even morally excellent? They live with integrity. They say what they mean. They do not lie; in fact, they detest lying. They do not steal. They have a deep conviction against cheating people. They advocate for the poor and the widows. They love kindness and embody many of the righteous acts that can be expressed in human life.

Where did they get all of this?

They are not necessarily proponents of Jesus. They may feel connected to God, but they do not preach Christ. They simply possess a strong anchor to what is right and a well-developed moral compass that turns them away from what is wrong.

The highways of their minds have been formed and solidified in righteousness. Yet the spiritual side of things is not at the forefront of their awareness or consciousness. Some may not even identify as Christians, yet they possess remarkably strong moral compasses, firmly inclined toward what is right.

Here is where the conflict arises.

Sometimes, those at the other end of the spectrum—the spiritually experienced—lie, cheat, steal, ignore the poor, and consider themselves too elevated to concern themselves with lowly things. They know the letter of the Word. They can quote Scripture extensively. They have memorized passages. They know the theories, the history, and the language of spiritual experiences.

They know the letter.

Yet sometimes they are harsh. Sometimes they are cruel. Sometimes they lack love. They neglect the simple things, the ordinary things, the foundational things. Instead, they have attached themselves to lofty spiritual experiences.

There is certainly good in pursuing the spiritual. We are meant to be spiritual beings. We are meant to be like God—spiritually awake like Jesus: aware of what is happening in the spirit and governing life from a spiritual place. That is good and right.

So how do we find the balance between these two extremes?

The purpose of spiritual experiences is that we would increasingly resemble those who unknowingly display the character of Christ, even if they are unaware of the spiritual world.

How is it that some people have been formed in this way without consciously acknowledging Christ?

It is a question that puzzles the mind.

Of course, generations before them may have walked in righteousness, and they have likely inherited those well-formed pathways of thinking and living. They preserve them.

Generational blessings often follow such families. They become leaders in society. They lead in different capacities. Many prosper financially. They enjoy healthy bodies, stable marriages, and flourishing lives.

Some become scientists, discovering principles that, if we know God, we recognize ultimately came from Him. God gave them those insights. They may describe the source merely as inspiration received while running, walking, or sitting quietly in meditation. They may not yet recognize the presence of God. Somewhere deep within, they may only vaguely suspect—or perhaps they know more than they realize. Yet God is still using them.

This is a reminder to those of us who have, at some point, been introduced to the spiritual world and have pursued spiritual experiences before allowing the nature of Christ to be fully formed within us.

We must remember that the end and aim of our Christian pursuit is not merely spiritual experience. It is that we would be conformed to the full nature of Jesus Christ, whose life is marked by:

• Love
• Joy
• Kindness
• Humility
• Righteousness
• Justice
• Peace
• Health
• Prosperity
• Generosity
• Advocacy for those who are lowly in society