The Practice Is More Than the Moment

Several years ago, I was doing Discovery Bible Study with an older man who had spent about ten years in prison and had previously been involved in drug dealing. One day, we studied Jesus' parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14–30.

When I asked which character he identified with, his answer surprised me. He identified with the servant who buried his one talent. I asked him why. He explained that life had taught him not to trust people, especially those in authority. He had worked under bosses he couldn't trust, so he understood why the servant would be reluctant to risk what his master had entrusted to him.

That wasn't how I understood the passage. We shared our different perspectives, but we didn't arrive at the same conclusion. The study ended, and we moved on. I left a little concerned as the takeaway was, in my view rather, rather distorted.

The following week, however, he returned with something unexpected. He told me he had continued thinking about our conversation. Then he said, "Actually, I did have one good boss." He began describing what that boss had done and why he had been different. A week later, he was still reflecting on the same passage and making further connections.

Something significant had happened. The Bible study had ended, but the process of learning had continued. His initial reaction had revealed a deeply held perception about people and authority. As he reflected, he began remembering experiences that challenged that perception. He wasn't merely reconsidering a biblical passage. He was reconsidering his understanding of life.

This experience illustrates something essential about spiritual formation: 

The influence of a spiritual practice does not necessarily end when the practice itself is over. An encounter with Scripture may awaken questions, emotions, memories, or tensions that continue working within us long afterward. As we revisit them, our understanding can deepen, expand, or even be corrected.

And this is only one dimension of what spiritual practices can develop within us.

What We Practice Begins to Shape Us

In the previous article, Spiritual Practices: Different On-Ramps into God's Transforming Presence, we explored why different practices matter. Each offers a distinctive way of engaging with God, yet all share the same destination: increasing conformity to Jesus Christ. But what happens as we engage these practices repeatedly?

Consider someone learning Lectio Divina. Initially, they may need to follow each step deliberately: read, reflect, pray, and rest in God's presence. Over time, however, they may become more naturally attentive to particular words or phrases in Scripture. They learn to linger, ponder, and recognize connections they might previously have overlooked.

Gospel Meditation develops somewhat different capacities. As we imaginatively enter a biblical narrative, we learn to pay attention to the people, circumstances, and emotions within the story. We begin noticing details about Jesus' character and actions that a hurried reading might miss.

Singing Scripture engages still other dimensions. Melody, rhythm, repetition, and emotional expression help us remember biblical truth and connect with it more deeply. A passage once sung may later come to mind spontaneously during an ordinary moment of life.

Each practice cultivates particular ways of attending, remembering, understanding, and responding. And with repeated engagement, these capacities can become increasingly natural. This is part of what Hebrews 5:14 describes when it speaks of mature people whose discernment has been trained through constant practice.

Spiritual practices are both means of formation and capacities that formation develops. The practices are not merely activities we perform. Through them, we can develop lasting habits of mind and heart that extend beyond the exercises themselves.

When Different Capacities Begin Working Together

Something else happens as we develop familiarity with multiple spiritual practices: the capacities they cultivate can begin to reinforce one another.

Imagine someone reading a Gospel narrative. A particular phrase catches their attention, and they linger over it, much as they have learned through Lectio Divina. As they reflect, they begin imaginatively entering the scene, drawing upon capacities cultivated through Gospel Meditation. They notice Jesus' response to someone who is suffering. A related passage comes to mind from their previous Bible study. Then they remember a situation in their own life where they struggled to respond with similar compassion. Without deliberately following the steps of several different practices, they are drawing upon capacities developed through all of them. Their attention, imagination, biblical knowledge, memory, and personal reflection are working together. This is an important development.

Different spiritual practices do more than provide variety. They can expand the range and depth of our spiritual perception. We begin recognizing connections we previously missed. We ask better questions. We become more attentive to what Scripture reveals and more aware of how its truth relates to our circumstances. The practices are no longer functioning merely as separate exercises. Their formative influence is becoming integrated into how we think, perceive, and engage with life.

Yet this integration is not automatic. Someone can become skilled at performing a spiritual exercise without developing corresponding wisdom or Christlike character. The goal is not simply greater proficiency but a growing willingness to receive God's truth and live accordingly.

Bringing Our Whole Selves Before the Living God

There is a deeper reason why these different capacities matter. Spiritual formation is not merely the development of better thinking or greater self-awareness. It takes place within a relationship with the living God.

When Jesus identifies the greatest commandment, He draws upon the Shema: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength." —Mark 12:30 NIV.  The command calls us to love God with the entirety of who we are. We are not merely minds seeking information. We are whole persons with emotions, memories, imaginations, desires, bodily experiences, and histories that shape how we understand the world. And we bring all of this into our relationship with God.

This helps explain why different spiritual practices can be so valuable. They provide opportunities to engage God's truth through different dimensions of our humanity.

• In Gospel Meditation, for example, we may imaginatively enter a scene and consider what the people involved might have experienced. We engage our senses and emotions as we attend to Jesus' words and actions.

• In singing Scripture, biblical truth may become connected with gratitude, longing, grief, or joy.

• In Lectio Divina, a familiar phrase may suddenly capture our attention because of something we are presently experiencing.

These responses can help us understand not only what Scripture reveals about God but also what is happening within us as we encounter His truth.

We are not simply bringing Scripture into our minds. We are bringing our whole selves before God and allowing His truth to address the whole person.

What Our Reactions Can Reveal

One of the most valuable discoveries in spiritual formation is that we do not fully understand ourselves. We may know what we believe intellectually without recognizing the fears, desires, and assumptions that influence our responses.

Sometimes an encounter with God's truth brings these hidden realities into view. Consider the rich young ruler in Mark 10:17–22. He approached Jesus asking what he must do to inherit eternal life. When Jesus reminded him of the commandments, he confidently replied that he had kept them since his youth. Then Mark records something remarkable: Jesus looked at him and loved him. From that love, Jesus invited him to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Him. The man's response was revealing. He became sorrowful and walked away because he had great possessions.

Before the invitation, he appeared confident in his obedience. But Jesus' invitation exposed a powerful attachment that stood in the way of following Him. The man may not have fully recognized the strength of that attachment until he was confronted with the possibility of surrendering his wealth. His sorrow revealed how deeply the invitation affected him. His decision to walk away showed which attachment prevailed in that moment.

What we profess reveals something about what we believe. How we respond when that belief is tested can reveal what is actually governing us.

This principle applies beyond the rich young ruler. As we engage Scripture, we may experience delight, gratitude, and longing that draw us toward God. But we may also encounter discomfort, fear, resistance, or a desire to withdraw.

Both kinds of responses can become opportunities for deeper understanding. A positive response may reveal something we are beginning to appreciate about God's character. A difficult response may expose a fear, an unresolved wound, or a belief we hadn't recognized.

But we must be careful not to interpret every uncomfortable reaction as rebellion or spiritual immaturity. Sometimes our reactions reflect painful experiences, exhaustion, or learned ways of protecting ourselves. We may not immediately understand why we respond as we do.

Rather than suppressing or judging these responses, we can bring them honestly before God.

• Why did that passage trouble me?

• What am I afraid might happen?

• What am I believing about God that makes approaching Him difficult?

These questions can become avenues for deeper connection.

When Our Perception of God Needs Renewing

Consider someone who sincerely believes that God is compassionate but finds it difficult to approach Him when overwhelmed by strong emotions. They may have learned through earlier experiences that sadness, anger, or vulnerability are unacceptable. Perhaps expressing distress once brought criticism rather than comfort.

Now they unconsciously carry similar expectations into their relationship with God. Their stated belief says, "God is compassionate." But their instinctive response says, "I shouldn't come to Him like this." There is a difference between what we consciously believe about God and what we have learned to expect from Him. Spiritual practices can help bring that difference into awareness.

And once recognized, it can be examined in light of Scripture. Jesus says, "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28). Peter encourages believers to cast their anxieties upon God because He cares for them (1 Peter 5:7). The psalmist invites God's people to pour out their hearts before Him (Psalm 62:8). These passages reveal a God who welcomes us in our weakness rather than demanding that we first eliminate our distress.

As we meditate on these truths, we may begin recognizing where our perceptions have been distorted by experience. This does not mean that every emotional response is a message from God or that every bodily reaction has a hidden spiritual meaning. Our responses provide information that needs careful interpretation, sometimes with the help of trusted people. But they can become starting points for prayerful reflection. The goal is not endless introspection. It is to bring more of ourselves into truthful, trusting relationship with God.

The parts of ourselves that move toward God can deepen our connection with Him. The parts that pull away can reveal where that connection needs truth, healing, patience, or growth.

When the Practice Ends but Formation Continues

Returning to the man in my Discovery Bible Study, something important happened between our meetings. He continued pondering the passage and reconsidering his reaction. Eventually, he remembered something that challenged his earlier conclusion about authority. That realization did not erase his painful experiences. Nor did it necessarily resolve every difficulty he had with trust. But it opened the possibility of seeing reality more accurately.

This is one of the remarkable features of biblical meditation. God's Word is not a magical formula whose effects are activated by recitation. It is truth meant to be understood, pondered, remembered, and lived. As we return to Scripture, the Holy Spirit can help us recognize connections and implications we previously overlooked. Our growing biblical knowledge illuminates familiar passages. Our experiences raise new questions. And as we attempt to live what we understand, we may discover where our interpretations need correction.

Sometimes the most important discovery occurs long after the original encounter. Mary provides a beautiful biblical picture of this kind of reflection. Luke tells us that she treasured the events surrounding Jesus and pondered them in her heart (Luke 2:19, 51). She did not necessarily understand everything she was witnessing. Yet she retained these experiences and continued considering their significance.

Likewise, an encounter with Scripture may leave us with questions we cannot immediately answer. A phrase remains in our thoughts. An unexpected emotional response invites further examination. A conversation challenges something we have always assumed. As we remain attentive, these experiences can become material for continued reflection.

And with practice, reflection itself can become more natural. We begin noticing biblical connections during ordinary conversations. We reconsider our reactions to difficult circumstances. We recognize when an experience challenges something we previously believed. The formal practice may have ended, but its formative influence continues. 

This is one reason the value of spiritual practices cannot be measured only by what happens during the scheduled exercise. Sometimes their deepest fruit emerges between the moments of practice.

From Practicing to Living

All of this brings us back to the purpose of spiritual formation. We do not practice Lectio Divina merely to become skilled at Lectio Divina. We do not practice Gospel Meditation simply to develop a vivid imagination. Nor do we study Scripture merely to accumulate biblical knowledge.

These practices serve something greater. Through repeated engagement, we can become more attentive to God, more discerning about ourselves, and more capable of recognizing His truth in the circumstances of everyday life. Our understanding grows. Our perceptions are corrected. Our affections can be reordered, and our responses increasingly shaped by what we have learned from Jesus.

This is not a mechanical process. The Holy Spirit remains the transforming agent. Our practices create opportunities for cooperation with His work, but they do not guarantee transformation. Nor do we eventually outgrow the need for spiritual practices. A mature musician continues practicing. A skilled teacher continues learning. Likewise, a growing disciple continues returning to Scripture, prayer, and fellowship with God.

The difference is that what once required deliberate effort may increasingly become part of how we naturally engage with life. We begin to ponder more readily, notice more carefully, and question our assumptions more honestly. Different capacities developed through different practices begin working together.

And these capacities are tested and deepened as we live. A difficult relationship becomes an opportunity to practice Jesus' teaching about love. An unexpected disappointment exposes where our security truly rests. A moment of compassion invites us to respond as Jesus would. The practices have helped prepare us for these moments, but the moments themselves become further opportunities for formation.

What begins as a structured practice can gradually become a more integrated way of perceiving, loving, discerning, and living.

The Greater Invitation

The greatest commandment calls us to love God with all that we are. Yet we often approach Him with only the parts of ourselves we understand or feel comfortable presenting. Spiritual practices can help us become more aware of the whole person we are bringing into that relationship. They cultivate capacities for engaging His Word. They help us recognize what is stirring within us. They create opportunities to examine our perceptions and bring our questions, fears, and desires before Him. And their influence can continue unfolding long after the practice itself has ended.

The destination is not mastery of spiritual techniques. It is a life increasingly formed around Jesus, in which our understanding, affections, motives, and actions become more fully aligned with His character. We are learning not merely to think about God, but to live in relationship with Him. Not merely to understand His Word, but to see reality through its truth. Not merely to recognize our inner responses, but to bring them honestly before Him and learn to respond faithfully. And not merely to practice the way of Jesus during designated moments, but to increasingly live as He lived.

Spiritual practices are both means of formation and capacities that formation develops. Their deepest fruit is not simply what happens while we practice, but who we are becoming through an ongoing life with God.