Books are like friends who, if you’ve picked a good one, know more than you.
I recently learned of John Mark Comer and his books, which are like a breath of fresh, spiritual air with just the right amount of white space on the page.
One of his latest, a multi-week best seller, is called Practicing the Way: Be with Jesus, become like Him, do as he did.
Now, you may be tempted to stop reading after reading the title, or perhaps not.
Either way, stay with me.
John Mark reflects:
“Spiritual formation isn’t a Christian thing; it’s a human thing.”
Photo by Ugne Vasyliute on Unsplash
He, being a former Portland pastor, speaks to not only the Christian but to everyone about a Way that is what being a human and for him, following Jesus, is really about.
He speaks of following this Way as an “apprenticeship.” A Way that inspires not a faith bound by theology, but one of action and love.
Sounds like recovery, doesn’t it?
He also offers practical suggestions and tips on how to live a truer life. One without hurry, distraction, and noise.
That’s what I love about Comer’s message and this book, and perhaps why it is wildly popular. It’s inclusive without being apologetic, bold yet responsive to the times we are in. Comer weaves modern illusions or examples (politicians, for example) and also quotes some of the OG mystics, who, for book lovers like me, are lines that are like glints of gold.
Comer also references the recovery community a couple of times, and of course, whenever this happens in a book I’m reading, I say to myself:
You have my attention.
He writes:
“…the best example of confession I can think of is, again, from AA. When people say “Hi, my name is _____, and I’m an alcoholic” to introduce themselves, that’s confession, far more than saying sorry to God in our minds at church.”
Leading with confession—or if that word is a bit cringy for you—vulnerability, is a key element to being human. Being real.
In other words, Comer gets it.
[side note: he may be the OG hipster pastor]
Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash
I think that’s why for me, healing and transformation first happened in the rooms of recovery and not in the stained-glass sanctuary of the church. People leading with the broken places, the mess, the hard, was something I had never experienced before. Other people’s rawness gave me permission to be myself and more than that, to let myself be known, seen, heard.
I share in a past article called “Bringing Back Ragamuffin:”
The word vulnerable has its Latin roots in the word “vulners” meaning wound. Early on in my recovery journey, my first sponsor showed me the counter-cultural power of vulnerability, of taking our wounds and sharing them with others.
It’s why I wrote my first book, Downstairs Church, to shine a light on what happens in the recovery community so that folks in all communities, including faith communities, might be open to hearing more about what the recovery community has to teach us. Vulnerability leads to depth of healing. Depth of healing leads to more authentic relationships. Authentic relationships lead to more vulnerability.
You can see the cyclical nature of all of this.
Comer goes on to outline other ways that the recovery community is more like the early church than the church is and how some aspects of spiritual formation may be exemplified by practices of recovery.
“It’s highly likely that any working model of spiritual formation will bear all sorts of resemblance to AA, with its three elements of (1) radical self-awareness, honesty, and confession, (2) total surrender to God’s power, and (3) a loving, tight-knit community to both love you and hold you accountable to becoming your true self. Take away any one of these tripart elements, and the proverbial stool will fall.”
Now, I recognize that Comer notes AA only here, and for some (I may be raising my hand), that may be problematic.
There are many recovery pathways that may lead us to the Way that he describes in his book, an “apprenticeship” to learn how to be in the world, but not of it. To follow the path of Jesus that isn’t easy, but it is light.
[BTW, this way is also for you, sweet friends, who get sick to your stomach thinking about identifying as a “Christian” - I feel you, but again, I hope you stay with me]
It’s not just about what we believe (although this is important), it’s about what we do, how we spend our time, and how we show up in the communities of which we are a part.
These reflections are also connected to families of loved ones in recovery who walk their own recovery journey, too. It may look different in some respects, but the main themes are like electrical currents that run throughout every one of our stories.
Comer writes:
“You think you’re there to help others, but you quickly realize you’re the one being helped.”
How true that when we show up for others in what some call “12-step work” or service or our new-found purposes in recovery, we are also helped and served.
What a beautiful truth. What we learn along the varied pathways of recovery may point to larger truths.
“There’s so much space to be who you are before God.”
Don’t you also love that we can be who we are, but we don’t have to stay that way?
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What does the concept of spiritual formation mean to you?
Do you agree that practicing recovery leads to something greater, to a new pathway than the one we started on?
Did you know that I share weekly #RECOVERYTIPTUESDAYS on Instagram?
I’m not a huge social media fan, but I love to show up for you.
Check out my latest and follow along.
Here are a few more resources for your journey:
SAMHSA’s National Recovery Month Page: Check out this comprehensive information about Recovery Month (which is in September), including events, resources, and toolkits.
Join an international alliance of organizations, researchers, experts, peers, and advocacy organizations that have a common mission and vision for increased family recovery support and family recovery research around the world. Learn more at the Global Family Recovery Alliance where I am actively involved in international research efforts centered on family recovery.
Mobilize Recovery is coming to cities across America soon. Learn more here.
One of my favorite new Substack letters is Dear Jon. This daily letter brings grit, vulnerability, and recovery wisdom that you won’t want to miss.
Have a recovery resource that you’d love to share with the Circle of Chairs community? Drop it in the chat below.
Thanks for this. I confess I’m one on the fence of the church thing. I grew up United Methodist, got an MDiv and worked in spiritual formation for a couple years (Apprentice Institute). I was seeking ordination as an elder and got deferred which crushed me and was when my drinking began the slow slide into problematic.
All that to say, I’m a year out from any kind of regular church attendance and am also very much a spiritual seeker. More on the meditation Buddhist curious front later. I’m happy I stumbled onto your Substack and look forward to following along.
I’ve also found that beauty of a judgement free embrace in recovery circles (AA and The luckiest Club). This is way too long for a comment, but thanks again for this post.
Love Comer's work. When I worked at a rehab facility I used a combo of Ruthlessly Eliminate Hurry and James Clear's Atomic Habits to teach a class.
And since you brought up Ragamuffins from an earlier post I assume you're familiar with Brennan Manning, who I think is the best faith writer on recovering honestly.
Have you read Richard Rohr's Breathing Under Water? I have mixes feelings about Rohr generally but it was a great book about the 12 Steps and spirituality.