of these attempts, though, reflect an implied definition of religion that is primarily cognitive and intellectual.
The contrast of this definition of religion with those employed by non-Christians hit me with force one day as I was teaching world religions. Muslims define themselves by five pillars. The first pillar confesses that God is one and that Muhammad is His prophet. Outside of this first pillar, the other four pillars all deal with the spiritual life and not doctrine. They urge prayer five times a day, almsgiving to the poor, Ramadan as the yearly fast, and pilgrimage to Mecca. For a Muslim, then, religion includes some doctrine, but has more to do with the spiritual life than intellectual belief.
Many Hindus and Buddhists describe the particular sect or brand of their faith by the meditation type they follow. All these non-Christian religions, by their very practice, view religion much more as a devotional or spiritual experience than as a philosophy or idea.
Thus it is not strange that many Christians feel a hunger for God because their very definition (often only subconscious) of what religion is cuts them off from the source of spiritual life—communion with God.
The problem becomes even clearer as we look at the second reason for the hunger. The very definition of theology accepted by Christians militates against taking the devotional life seriously. Traditionally many in the church spoke in the plural about theology. There was not a theology but three major branches of theology. First, dogmatic or doctrinal theology dealt with doctrines and philosophy and taught people what to believe. Second, moral theology, concerned ethics and instructed people how to behave toward one another and in society. The third, mystical or devotional theology, focused on the spiritual life and guided people in their religious experience. For most Christians the threefold concept has vanished. Theology has become singular and refers only to the first category. Thus theology in the popular mind has become doctrinal theology almost exclusively. Is it any wonder that for many “theology” seems boring and irrelevant? It should be no surprise, then, that those who delve deeply into the discipline often feel the greatest hunger for God.
The third reason for the spiritual hunger follows naturally. Because of the preceding deeply ingrained understandings of religion and theology, those responsible for teaching Christianity at the highest levels have often neglected to present the spiritual life. Based on a survey in 1994 by the Murdoch Trust of more than 800 people, the importance placed on spirituality and the spiritual life in the life of a pastor varies greatly between laypeople, pastors, and seminary professors.3 Laypeople list spirituality as the number one priority in a perfect pastor. Pastors rate it number four. Seminary professors do not even rate spirituality as in the top five priorities for pastoral training. Their most important item is theological knowledge. What the average layperson craves does not figure as crucial in the minds of those teaching Christianity at the highest level.
I am a product of this system. From first grade I went to church school and studied required religion and Bible classes. For 16 years I remained in this system until I finished college. Then I began theological studies and attended two different conservative Christian seminaries, finally graduating with a Ph.D. I do not regret that education. It shaped me in many good ways and preserved me from the drug culture and other dangers in society. Also it led me to love the Bible and enjoy theological teaching and discussion. On the other hand, this system was based on the same unbalanced definition of religion I have shared above. During those 20-plus years of Christian education, I studied numerous Bible and religion classes and learned the doctrines and the history of Christianity. In the seminary I studied the biblical languages. In all that time, I never had one class devoted specifically to instruction and training in the spiritual life. People assumed that I should pray, but they never required me to read a book on prayer or meditation. My teachers were good people, and I believe they thought that I would “catch” the devotional life on my own. While this is now changing, we must admit that several generations were raised in that way, and that legacy unfortunately continues.
Unbalanced Following
The fourth and final reason for the hunger relates to the selective way we have understood and followed our important religious founders. Charismatically gifted founders of religious reforms or movements typically are wholistic in their approach. Martin Luther is a good example of this in his role as initiator of the German Protestant Reformation. He performed many functions, serving as preacher, teacher, writer, and even having a hand in the music created by the new movement. Certainly he wrote and taught theology, and his theology brought renewal. But Luther was much more than a theologian. He was a great promoter of a renewed religious life. As a former monk, he was diligent in prayer and wrote a book on the subject. Regularly spending two or three hours a day in prayer, he had a motto that said, “He that has prayed well has studied well.”4
With the passing of Luther, this balanced approach that combined a renewed doctrinal understanding with an experiential heart communion with God, gradually vanished. Lutheranism developed two main branches. The first, confessional or scholastic Lutheranism, preserved the theological heritage of Luther and developed it with even greater detail.5 The second branch, Pietism, emphasized the cruciality of a living heart experience of the resurrected Christ. Pietists were fervent in devotion and zealous in evangelism. While Pietism had an influence, confessionalism ultimately triumphed and became the mainstream Lutheranism. The original wholistic view of religion faded away.
A similar experience emerged in the experience of John Wesley and Methodism. John Wesley was the complete Reformer. Theologically he subscribed to Reformation theology and the evangelical experience. Clearly teaching the importance of both personal and social holiness, he founded a movement with all the things needed to nurture the spiritual life. His small class meeting system (a maximum of 12 members) and band organization provided a powerful model for personal discipleship and devotion in small groups that required accountability of its members. Wesley’s devotion to Jesus led him to spend two hours a day in prayer that usually began at 4:00 a.m.6
The death of Wesley brought changes to Methodism. By the late nineteenth century it had abandoned the “class meeting” and “band” small group systems. Such small dedicated groups that gave structure and accountability to the devotional and spiritual life and had been the basic structure of Methodism now collapsed. Soon, by the middle to late twentieth century, Methodism was probably best known for its dedication to social action. Attempts at reviving the old system have so far been only partially successful.
I have seen a similar thing happen in the Seventh-day Adventist Church with Ellen G. White, founder and prophet. A complete religious reformer, she took a prominent role in the doctrinal reform relating to the literal return of Jesus, the immutability of God’s law, and the wholistic view of humanity. Extensively preaching, teaching, and writing, she led in the founding of schools and the establishment of medical institutions. She had powerful experiences of communion with God, was deeply devotional, and spoke and wrote extensively on the spiritual life in all its aspects.
An examination of the scholarly work on her writings will reveal that after her death, Adventists have studied her mostly for what she has to say about doctrinal belief and Christian lifestyle. She has become, for most Seventh-day Adventists, an arbiter of theological questions and a champion of conservative lifestyle. What I am saying is not to belittle such contributions, but to point out how one-sided they are. You will find almost nothing written about her spirituality and teachings on the devotional life. A couple of years ago, I had a graduate assistant collect her writings on the subject of repentance and confession. The amount she wrote in this area is staggering, yet the denomination has done little or nothing with this material, because its scholarly interests lie in other subject areas. We could say much the same for other devotional topics.
In an attempt to lessen her impact on theological issues, some have even said that she is “just a devotional writer.” They see it as a way to relegate what she says to the prayer room rather than the classroom. That statement “just a devotional writer” has deeply disturbing implications. Is devotional theology any less crucial than dogmatic theology to the life of the church? Is
