and experienced by believers: that is, with their beliefs, ethical stands, actions, motivations, historical context, social location, and all other salient influences on the lived experience of faith.
By recognizing that spirituality is concerned with the lived experience of faith, we are acknowledging that one's spiritual life emerges from the complex interaction of the factors noted above. Simply knowing a person or group's belief about a given theological notion does not necessarily shed much insight into their spirituality. For example, numerous denominational groups identifying themselves as Christian could affirm that God is a compassionate judge. It is the way in which the phrase “compassionate judge” informs daily life, however, that reveals the nature of the believer's spirituality. The ethical norms, pastoral counseling paradigms, parenting practices, and financial decisions of a group that focuses on God's compassion may differ markedly from a faith group that finds God's harsh judgment more compelling. Appreciating a person or group's spirituality, therefore, requires understanding the way in which their spirituality is manifested in the lived experience of the Christian life.
As beings created of breath and dust, we belong to communities that participate in shaping our lived experience of faith. These communities provide us a social location that shapes our understanding of reality, meaning, and truth. By exercising an instrumental role in shaping our worldview, these communities both provide opportunities for and set limits on our spiritual growth. For example, mainline Protestant communities of faith, as noted at the beginning of this chapter, are uncomfortable with helping people develop experiential relationships with the sacred. The social location of these faith communities at the center of American cultural life meant that they both mirrored and contributed to what in the 1950s was a common approach to religious faith—one where religious matters were deemed personal and private.3 With the growth in recent years of the influence of the Religious Right, however, that view is being challenged as we witness the renewed presence of religious discourse in public issues. The social positions advocated and stances presented, however, generally do not reflect the theological beliefs or social positions of mainline Protestants. At the same time, the worldview of mainline Protestants is expanding through interfaith and cross-cultural religious discussions. Both the renewed public religious dialogue from the Religious Right, and the interfaith and cross-cultural religious conversations are helping mainline Protestants grow in areas not permitted by their former worldview.
An aspect of this growth is manifested in the use of spiritual practices that assist in developing both the spirit and the body. Exercises that are used as spiritual disciplines—that is, those repeated in a systematic manner—influence not only the spiritual and emotional life but also the physical. Students of ritual studies note that when the body engages in certain repeated actions, the body itself acquires a memory. Spiritual practices that require bodily activity or receptivity—for example, open hands—create within the body itself (in addition to the mind and spirit) a response that is learned and retained. Dramatic negative examples of the body's memory emerge from stories of physical or sexual abuse where the abused is subjected repeatedly to a predictable and repeated series of actions. In these cases people in therapy frequently are required not only to heal their memories and emotions but also to restore the body memory through therapeutic rituals where warmth and support are provided. The body and its acquired perceptions as well as the spirit are instrumental in influencing spiritual growth and development.
The spiritual practices provided in the last chapter of this book offer the potential for nurturing humankind's spirit, emotions, mind, body, and community. These are spiritual practices that honor our creation from breath and dust. They provide avenues for an experiential relationship with God and locate us in the context of a universe where both matter and spirit are avenues to the divine.
Creation in the Image of God
The notion of being created in the image of God is a doctrine that helps Christians understand their role in the cosmos. This doctrine owes its origin to the story of creation found in Genesis 1: 1–2:4a. In Genesis 1:26–27 the writer of the Priestly tradition in Genesis says: “Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’” In this passage the words “image” and “likeness” are used to suggest the relationship that exists between human beings and God. That humans are created in the image of God distinguishes them from other creatures. Although this passage has often been used to assert humankind's power over creation—a capacity frequently used to the detriment of this sacred creation—it describes something of the nature of human creation and establishes the bond for an intimate relationship between humankind and all of creation. We are created with a capacity to be in relationship with the creating, sustaining, loving, compassionate power of the universe. Being thus created means that at the most profound level of existence we are not alone; we have the potential to be in a relationship with God.
The capacity for a relationship with God permits us to apprehend the sacred both as the ground of our existence and as it is manifested in daily life. Through our affective life we experience in significant events a depth of existence that is more profound than the emotions that normally inform our ordinary experience of life. The joy that seems boundless at the miracle of the birth of a child, the fragile nature of life that accompanies death or life-threatening illness of significant others, the overwhelming sense of gratitude that may accompany the sparing of one's life or the life of an intimate are events during which human beings frequently report an emotional depth that touches the profundity of life. Persons of faith often identify this depth of existence with a sense of the sacred, a sense of being in the presence of God.
Rudolph Otto contended that when we encounter this level of existence it evokes in us a deep sense of awe, or terror, or fascination.4 We human beings, generally at some point quite early in our lives, are confronted with life's fragile and transient nature; a relative or friend grows old and dies, a pet is hit by a car, accident or serious injury befalls someone we know. When this occurs we begin to ask questions about the nature of life and our role in the universe. We wonder why accidents occur and why good people suffer. Tragedy strikes and we are caught up short, yet we are touched at a depth of being not thought possible. Sometimes we hurt so deeply we know life must have meaning.
At other times we are overcome with a sense of awe, with the wonder of it all. For some, that comes from seeing a night sky far away from the city lights and being overwhelmed by the vastness of the universe. Others are awed by the wonders of travel to other cultures or to alien geological zones where nature seems unfamiliar. A sense of awe wells up inside; we may feel both insignificant and graciously blessed at the same time.
My most recent experience of surprise involving the beauty of the created world came on a trip to Hawaii. I was visiting the Big Island of Hawaii, where a volcano constantly sends lava to the sea in a stream of fire and where waterfalls and tropical forests abound. Friends insisted that we must include on our itinerary a snorkeling trip to Kealakakua Bay. Not being afraid of the water, yet not being an accomplished swimmer, I protested. I was sure I lacked the skills to manage a mask, breathing tube, and fins. They persisted, and my spouse, a former lifeguard, gave me the necessary encouragement to attempt this adventure. I will never forget the first look I had under the water. My breath was almost taken away, not from inhaling water, but from the sense of wonder and awe. The hues of red and blue coral, the colorful fish of countless patterns and shapes, the blue, clear water—all of this was more grand than I had imagined. The moment came utterly by surprise. With one look through a mask I discovered a world I had never seen—another aspect of God's creativity!
When we are in the presence of such profound forces—forces beyond ourselves—our lives are often transformed or healed. During a small group worship that I was leading, a noted and respected theologian once shared an experience she had had after struggles with infertility. One day while on a holiday in France she found herself watching a relationship between a mother and her young daughter. Her fascination was piqued at first by the laughter and play occurring between them. Suddenly it was as if time stopped, and the deep sense of joy between them became her joy. At that