I’m not sure if you’re like me, but I love navel-gazing. Get me a carafe of coffee and a warm fire and watch me read spiritual texts until my eyes bleed.
It feels so… good… to conceptualize and pontificate about matters of the soul — if you’re into that type of thing (which, if you’re reading this particular publication, I assume you are).
Not to ruin the fun here, but if that’s all we did, we’d be missing the point.
Spirituality is meant to be lived.
Yes, it’s true. If spirituality isn’t lived, it’s nothing but a place to hide.
The church that tells us that God is found only within its walls is nothing but a dressed up gym membership.
Only the temple that exists to be torn down is a worthy place of worship.
Spirituality is only useful if we give it full, living expression in every atom of our body, soul, and mind.
It’s not real spirituality if we make it a matter of the soul alone. We are the hands of God. And from what I’ve seen, God has dirty-ass fingernails.