Evolving Religious Practices

Have your religious practices changed over time?

Many of us were taught to pray by parents or other trusted and faithful adults. Others picked up a connection with the Divine more organically, through spending time in nature or by witnessing a seemingly supernatural event. Some of us learned about being faithful by watching love in action through the work of human hands and hearts.

I learned to say prayers at the dinner table and during Sunday worship. There have been times in my life when contemplative prayer was vitally important. At other times, a movement practice such as liturgical dance or walking the labyrinth has been most meaningful. I sense that these shifts are related to balancing my life as a whole, giving me a variety of religious experiences over the decades.

Some people, frequently later in life, experience the seeming absence of God more than the presence of God. It is now fairly well known through Mother Teresa’s journals that she endured a fifty-year dry spell or period of “desolation” in her relationship with God. During those decades, she had no sense of God in her prayer time—yet she kept on faithfully living, loving, and serving the God who had blessed her so deeply at an earlier stage in her life.

Many of us go through this Dark Night of the Soul, as St. John of the Cross called it. During such dark nights, no religious practices seem to make a difference. Nothing “works,” as it were. Yet such times are not necessarily devastating, though they can feel that way. Instead, they are windows into another level or layer of relationship—the necessity of mystery and the unknown.

I’m not in such a place, though I am aware that my religious practices have shifted in recent years. I take moments of stillness in my day, but I don’t need to sit in stillness for twenty minutes or more. In fact, my body prefers for me to keep moving on a regular basis so I don’t stiffen up!

I’m also not saying daily prayers or having conversations with God. Rather than making lists, requests, or demands, I find myself noticing something and holding it in God’s light—and then trusting that God will do what’s best while I move on.

Most fundamentally, though, I find that my current religious practice is bearing witness to the fruits of the Spirit’s work in the world. I rejoice and celebrate each time I see a connection made at church, a breakthrough happen during a spiritual guidance session, or a spontaneous celebration of love and mercy unfold in front of me. Somehow, the recognition and acknowledgement are a sufficient form of prayer. It is enough to be alive and joining with divine love to see what grace is unfolding in our world.

What religious practices are important and impactful in your life these days and this Advent? How have they shifted or evolved over time?