Why Spiritual Experiences Fade—and What to Do About It

Spiritual experience cannot be relived.

Recalling wonderful moments in the presence of God has some value, but a remembrance can’t bring the essence of the experience back. We cannot draw nourishment from it a second time. Mystics of all faiths testify to the same truth – spirituality is a river you have to immerse yourself in. If we step out, those times in the presence of the divine won’t continue to feed us for days, weeks, or months.

The nourishment of spiritual experience only exists in the moment and cannot be bottled for future consumption. If we want to walk closely with God, we can’t do so as occasional bathers in the river; we have to live in it. For this reason, the practice of faith (some form of regular discipline) is an essential element of a fulfilling spiritual life. This can take many forms, including meditation – the key is the regularity rather than the format of the practice.

Are Progressives Wary of Spiritual Discipline?

Many if not most progressives have ended up where they are because the package of beliefs and practices they used to accept has caused them harm. Many identify as Ex-vangelicals, which reflects the fact that the Progressive Movement is populated by believers who used to be part of the Evangelical world who found good reasons to leave it behind. 

Negative associations can become triggers, and triggers can become counterproductive. When I first stepped away from Evangelical practice, I carried sack-loads of trauma stemming from mistreatment by church leaders, and for several years, I was unable to read the Bible without triggering old traumas. To protect my mental wellbeing, I had to stop using all biblical language and terms, because even the biblical lexicon had become associated with harm. All in all, it took around seven or eight years to reengage with reading the Bible, going to church, and prayer, but I was determined to seek healing for my traumas and eventually found it.

Since that time, I’ve been able to engage with and love the scriptures more than ever, regularly attend a fellowship, and pray and worship without any psychological backlash. I strongly suspect that many progressives are still hindered by trauma, understandably reluctant to practice any form of spiritual discipline, other than perhaps walking in nature. If that’s you, I get it. It’s important to take the time you need to process the harm inflicted on you, and there’s certainly no rush, but it’s also important to consider what you might be missing out on. For me, there is nothing like deep immersion in the divine presence, and being able to go there again after all those years of inertia has brought me great joy. Hand on heart, it is worth seeking a way to move forward and heal from religious trauma.

Fear of Works-Righteousness

Another potential reason for being wary of spiritual discipline is an association with works-righteousness. Ex-vangelicals have often been exposed to teaching that places an unhealthy burden on their shoulders. How many songs have we sung that beg the Holy Spirit to bless us in some way? “Come, Holy Spirit” songs reinforce the false assumption that the Holy Spirit is somehow absent until we’ve pleaded with him to “move”. Spiritual discipline in such environments is often seen as a way to get “close to God” or have “more of God”, which means that our own efforts are somehow earning us new levels of intimacy and “anointing”. 

Don’t get me wrong – I love spiritual gifts and intimacy, but we don’t need to beg for them. It is more a matter of attuning ourselves to the great gift of the Holy Spirit that is already within us. Consider it like tuning in to a radio station – the broadcast is already live, and we just need to fine-tune our hearts and minds to hear it. 

Spiritual discipline is a great way to make those adjustments, but that can be hard for those who’ve lived for years under a heavy religious burden. The discovery that God loves us exactly as we are is a great relief for such folk, and if spiritual discipline is associated with legalism, the natural thing to do is to shun it, at least for a while. Understanding that ‘it is finished’ liberates us in a way that provides the ultimate relief from obligation. This is a wonderful revelation, but the scale of the relief and the depth of association between spiritual discipline and works-righteousness can make it hard to rediscover the joys of healthy spiritual discipline. 

Healthy spiritual discipline builds on the foundation that God loves us and only wants us to engage with spiritual practices that support us and help us grow as individuals and as communities. Believing in the unconditional love of God is a strong foundation, but it is not the house. The house is our practice of faith, our walk with God, our life in the Spirit. 

The Presence of God is the Crucible of Theology

I first became aware of the tangible love of God when I was 15, during a worship service. In contrast to previous experiences of worship. I could sense the loveliness of Jesus ever so closely and my heart responded with joy. In that moment, God was more real to me than my surroundings. His presence was palpable and astonishingly loving. I gave myself to the experience completely and became lost in love. I felt close to God – something I’d only understood as rhetoric prior to those moments – and that meant everything to me. That was the moment I knew in my bones that God is good and loves us completely.

The presence of God is the crucible of theology. In his company, our warped ideas of the divine nature are consumed, and our hearts know his goodness. There’s only one way to truly know God, and that is to spend time in his company. Better is one day in his courts than a thousand elsewhere.

*Disclaimer: I’ll reiterate that I’m talking about tuning in to what is already ours, rather than begging God for something new.