Spiritual Formation ‘technique’ Isn’t A Substitute For Battling Sin

Your church announces two concurrent adult education classes. The description for the first: “Join us in Room A to explore how conquering the flesh helps us walk by the Spirit.” The description for the second: “Join us in Room B to explore how rediscovering a lost 14th-century practice can unlock deeper spirituality.”

Which class will be better attended?

In many churches, the draw to Room B would be mesmeric—and not just among Gen Z. At my church, the 50-to-70 crowd might be the best-represented demographic in Room B, having caught a particular version of the spiritual formation bug from authors their (adult) kids have recommended.

But the apostle Paul seems more concerned about warning against “walking by the flesh” than he is about instructing in spiritual techniques (Gal. 5:16–24; Rom. 8:1–13). Should we be concerned, then, that so many of us (myself included!) would be more intrigued by a technique-oriented spiritual formation class than by a sin-killing spiritual formation class?

How We Got Here

The well-known leaders of the last generation’s spiritual formation movements (such as Dallas Willard, Richard Foster, and Eugene Peterson) have passed the torch to their disciples, some of whom are best known for their focus on certain techniques. In such circles, intrigue about the mechanics of how to pray “breath prayers” can surpass intrigue about the attributes of the God to whom we’re praying. Concern about insufficient solitude days can outweigh concern about besetting sin.

Concern about insufficient solitude days can outweigh concern about besetting sin.

Such focus on technique represents a drift from the intent of many spiritual formation OGs. Foster began his seminal work with this warning: “The inner attitude of the heart is far more crucial than the mechanics for coming into the reality of the spiritual life.” And Willard was vocal about his fear that techniques would become the overpowering focus of the spiritual formation movement.

Sin Is the Great Barrier

Insofar as mechanics have gained outsize emphasis in present-day spiritual formation movements, Peter Adam offers a corrective: “The great barrier to true spirituality is not the lack of technique in spiritual aptitude, but sin.” Prayer is a fitting example. Aren’t we told repeatedly in Scripture that it’s our sin, more than our technique, that will keep our prayers from being heard (Ps. 66:18; Prov. 21:13; Isa. 59:2; James 4:3; 1 Pet. 3:7)?

Many have found Adam’s assessment accurate. I think of the young man who told me,

While I was addicted, all I could hear God saying to me in every Scripture text was “stop looking at porn.” Sermons and devotions felt stale as a result. Now that I’m no longer enslaved to that sin, it’s like I’m reading a whole new book!

That response resonates with me. While a few of my experiences with techniques like wordless prayer or modified lectio divina have seemed to stimulate communion with God, most of the lasting leaps in my walk with the Lord have come in conjunction with recognizing and repenting of sinful patterns. While learning my Enneagram number (“I’m a 1!”) did help me get out of a spiritually dry patch, it did so only by way of facilitating self-examination (“I’ve been carrying around simmering resentment without realizing it!”).

Technique Has a Place

That said, Scripture prevents us from overstating Adam’s case. While the great barrier to true spirituality may indeed be sin, biblical characters still avail themselves of spiritual techniques without embarrassment. Isn’t this what Daniel is doing when he prays on his knees three times a day with his windows open facing Jerusalem (Dan. 6:10)? Is this not what Elisha does when he calls for a musician before he speaks for the Lord (2 Kings 3:15)? For that matter, isn’t it what Jesus does when, instead of remaining in distraction-filled houses, he goes to solitary places to pray (Luke 5:16)?

“Get rid of sin, and you’ll automatically enjoy a rich spiritual life” may be insufficient guidance. Even the sinless One employed a strategy to enhance his “quiet times.”

Yet not all spiritual techniques are created equal. How do we know which are helpful? Once we’ve rejected techniques that run contrary to God’s self-revelation (such as mediums and Ouija boards) and wholeheartedly embraced practices God prescribes (such as Scripture memorization, prayer, and corporate worship), we might carve out a third, “possibly helpful but not essential” category for spiritual practices modeled (though not commanded) in Scripture.

If Elisha could be helped by music and Jesus could be helped by solitude, then against these there’s no law. Still, these shouldn’t be taken as universally prescriptive. In what may be the noisiest era in history, some of us probably need less background music; in what may be the loneliest era in history, some of us probably need less solo time.

Greater Value: Godliness

There’s no reason we should be inflexibly closed to trying a new spiritual technique, especially if we’ve searched our hearts and confessed and repented of all known sin, yet still struggled to connect with God. Participating in a digital fast could reawaken awe of God that has been dulled by scrolling. Praying Scripture can revitalize a prayer life that has become repetitive.

Biblical characters still avail themselves of spiritual techniques without embarrassment. Yet not all spiritual techniques are created equal.

Techniques can help, but we ought not esteem them higher than the basic pursuit of holiness and ongoing killing of sin. If we want to walk by the Spirit, the New Testament authors emphasize not honing our mechanics but rather putting to death the works of the flesh (Gal. 5:24).

We can employ techniques in the battle against sin and the pursuit of communion with God, but we ought not trust in these mechanisms more than we trust in God himself. John Piper steers us rightly in When I Don’t Desire God: “Our strategies must be humble and dependent, followed by ‘May the LORD do what seems good to him’ (2 Sam. 10:12). . . . If joy is a gift from God, we will use all his appointed means, but we will not trust in means, but in God.”

As long as we don’t trust in or overemphasize them, spiritual formation techniques are of some value. But godliness (still) has value for all things.