This is the sixth post in my series, âGrace Between the Linesââa journey through the beautifully strange overlap between theology, mystical spirituality, and the books and ideas that have shaped me along the way.
If this series had a theological heart, this might be it. This is where the gap between my current Christian theology and my former life as a spiritual-but-not-religious wanderer finally makes sense. Where mystical longing finds solid ground in the flesh-and-blood reality of Jesus Christ. If youâve ever felt torn between the freedom of spiritual exploration and the rootedness of Christian traditionâthis one's for you.
In case you missed the previous posts in the seriesâŠ
Intro - âš This Time, Itâs Not a Comeback â Itâs a Reconciliation
Post #1 - đ Did You Hear the One Where the Lutheran Pastor Walks Into the Metaphysics Aisle?
Post #2 - đș How a PBS Mystic Became My Spiritual Gateway Drug
Post #3 - đ When I Drifted
Post #4 - âš If Channeling Freaks You Out, Letâs Talk About Paul
Post #5 - đ„ Is A Course in Miracles Heretical?
𧣠I Didnât Expect Mysticism to Wear Wool
I first encountered Tuomo Mannermaa in seminary, somewhere between a Lutheran confessions course and a lukewarm coffee in the refectory of the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago during my first year. I had been assigned his book Christ Present in Faith, and something about it felt different. I wasnât sure what to expect from a Finnish theologian with a name that sounded like an obscure type of birch bark tea. But then he started talking about real union with Christâlike, actual ontological unionâand I leaned in.
His theology blew me away. I already loved Lutheran theology for its honesty, its emphasis on grace as Godâs initiating move, and its freedom from spiritual ladder-climbing. But this? This was something more. This wasnât just "Youâre forgiven." This was, "Youâve been mystically united with Christ⊠Now!" It wasnât just about where youâll end up when you die. It was about whatâs happening in your very cells in this instant.
And then, as seminary tends to do, I was swept away. Theological speed dating, basically. Just when youâre really starting to connect, youâre moved along to the next systematic thinker. So Mannermaa sat on the shelf.
Until about a month ago, when I took a week off and let myself read whatever I wanted (yes, apparently this is what nerds do with their vacation time). I picked up a book about Mannermaa called Union with Christ: The New Finnish Interpretation of Luther by Robert Jenson and Carl Braatenâtwo theologians I trust. And suddenly, I was back in the deep end.
As I read, I kept thinking: This is speaking the same language as A Course in Miracles, only with more Jesus and fewer metaphysical detours. There was mystical resonance. There was deep Christological grounding. These two parts of my storyâparts that I never thought would be joinedâwere coming together. And for the first time in a long time, I didnât feel like I had to hide or shelve one part of myself to hold the other.
đ Mysticism, Union, and the Big Theological Gap
When I was training as a New Thought minister, I often felt like Jesus was the elephant in the room. Mentioning him once or twice was fine, even poetic. But too much Jesus? That was a problem. And yet, the more I readâRob Bell, Richard Rohr, Thomas Merton, Cynthia Bourgeault, and other expansive and contemplative Christian writers, the more Jesus seemed to be the heartbeat of the whole thing.
It became more and more apparent that Jesus wasnât just a really nice guy or wise teacher on par with BrenĂ© Brown or Steve Jobs. He was the Word made flesh. A cosmic Christ who knew my name.
Eventually, I left New Thought ministry and wandered back through Catholicism before landing in the ELCA. But that meant I had to put all my woo-woo mystical stuffâespecially ACIMâon the shelf. Seminary was already a stretch for someone with my spiritual rĂ©sumĂ©, and I didnât need to give the candidacy committee another reason to raise their eyebrows.
I immersed myself in Law/Gospel theology. I studied the confessions. I learned to preach grace with grit. And Iâm grateful for that season. But I also knew there was a whole chapter (or maybe a whole part) of my spiritual life that had been boxed up and taped shut.
Then I read Braaten and Jenson on Mannermaa.
Suddenly, it was like God lowered a drawbridge, pointed across it, and said, "Alrighty, kid... youâre ready now."
đ Theosis Without the Bypass
Mannermaaâs big idea was deceptively simple: faith unites us with Christ in a real, participatory way. Not just intellectually. Not just legally. But mystically, ontologically.
Itâs not that we imitate Christ. Itâs that we are drawn into him. United with him. Transformed by his life, death, and resurrection. Not just conceptually, but actually.
In New Thought circles, the goal is to think positive thoughts. (Because negative ones are said to manifest everything from flat tires to existential dread. I once accidentally manifested a parking ticket and a spiritual identity crisis in the same afternoon, but thatâs neither here nor there.) Thereâs a time for that, no doubt. But this framework can make it hard to engage the messy, embodied reality of sin, suffering, and the crosses we all bear in life. Pain becomes something to mentally override instead of something to be met with presence, compassion, and grace.
Mannermaa doesnât bypass. He doesnât hand you a shortcut around pain. He leads you through it, right through the center, where Jesus meets us in our most human places. Where grace isnât abstract; itâs enfleshed. Itâs not pie-in-the-sky. Itâs the center of gravity at the earthiest places.
This is theosis without the spiritual ladder. Not climb-to-God theology, but descend-with-Christ mystery.
đż Grounded Mysticism, Lutheran Roots
Reading Union with Christ, something clicked. I realized I didnât have to choose between abstraction and doctrine. Between mysticism and orthodoxy. I could be a Lutheran pastor with mystery in my bones and Christ at the centerânot floating above it all, but walking with people, questions and all, through the mud of it.
Mystical union is not a side quest⊠Itâs the heart of the gospel.
Mannermaa helped me name the thing I was already feeling but didnât have language for: that mystical union is not a side quest⊠Itâs the heart of the gospel. And itâs not about escaping the world. Itâs about being joined to the One who has already entered it all and called it beloved.
đ Up Next
Next week: Iâll share how I now read A Course in Miracles; not as someone looking for escape, but as a pastor who has found a home in traditional Christianity.
Still Along the Way,
Jonas
P.S. Iâd love to hear your thoughts! What bridges have you found between mystical longing and theological grounding? (Paid subscribers get to join the comments and keep the conversation going. Thatâs where the good stuff happens. If youâd like to go deeper but canât swing the price of a paid subscription, let me know and Iâll set you up, no questions asked.)