For several months, I have been reading a daily devotional book entitled Becoming Fire: Through the Year with the Desert Fathers and Mothers by Tim Vivian. Each day highlights two or three excerpts from the desert Christians: a teaching, a story, or a parable emanating from the wilderness. Since I picked up this volume back in November, I naturally just started reading along from that date — toward the end of the book.

Yesterday I opened up to the front of the book for the first time. Just before the reading for January 1st, Vivian included a few quotes from other authors — the kind of thing you often find at the beginning of a chapter. Honestly, the quotes Vivian included were fairly forgettable, save for one phrase that caught my attention. One of the authors talked about becoming “a spiritually realized person” and immediately my imagination was engaged. What does it mean to be a spiritually realized person?

I immediately thought about our cultural obsession with self-actualization, the interior quest to become your authentic self by following your heart and pursuing your dreams and being true to yourself — and all of the other nonsensical Disney-fied mantras which are so ubiquitous in the modern age. We unquestionably accept the goodness of this kind of hero quest because it is the basis of some of the most meaningful narratives we consume. Self-actualization as an ultimate aim is a natural by-product of expressive individualism and its radical centering of the feeling self. (For more on expressive individualism, you need to read Trueman’s excellent book, The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self.)

To my thinking, becoming a spiritually realized person is a departure from the pursuit of self-actualization. Rather than seeking meaning for one’s life based upon one’s desires, the spiritually realized person’s life is shaped by a telos beyond themselves. The spiritually realized person’s identity is received, not discovered. Instead of reveling in self-determination — I am whoever and whatever I decide to be — the spiritually realized person recognizes that one’s “truest self” comes through Holy Spirit regeneration.

Imagine my surprise, then, whenever I began reading my first book for the year, The Reason for Church by Brad Edwards. I think I bought this one a few weeks ago after seeing it highlighted by Christianity Today as one of their top books of 2025. In our era of rapid dechurching, Edwards is seeking to reclaim a robust ecclesiology to speak into the essential nature of the church. And his first chapter is entitled “Spiritual Pragmatism” with the tagline: “How Seeker Sensitivity and Self-Actualization Reduce the Church to a Spiritual Non-Profit” (emphasis added).

I felt like God might be trying to say something to me, so I read with eager anticipation. Here’s what I came across:

Secular self-actualization embraces almost any means of fulfilling one’s potential. What matters most is that you are in the driver’s seat and not some other person, institution, or tradition. . . . Self-actualization is so baked into American culture that it has subtly influenced evangelical approaches to discipleship, making one’s own spiritual growth the telos, or purpose, of the Christian life, instead of the fruit or by-product of following Jesus. Self-actualizing ‘discipleship’ isn’t more than what Scripture calls us to, but less. It reduces the scope of Christian faithfulness to personal spiritual practices like Bible study and prayer.

Edwards, p8.

Edwards parses this out carefully, and for good reason: in our age of self-actualization, we might think that “becoming a spiritually realized person” is just another way of saying that you are maximizing your spiritual growth or “being all you can be” in some spiritual context. But that’s never been the point. Without careful nuance, even the discussion of spiritual disciplines — that which God intends as a means of grace — can become one more measuring stick, one more box to check on your spiritual To-Do list. And that misses the point.

Such an approach actually leads to flimsier discipleship. Edwards cites self-actualizing discipleship as a major reason so many people have rejected the institution of church:

What matters most to God is your spiritual growth, that you’re becoming the kind of person you believe he created you to be, and anything that doesn’t support your (self-actualizing) spiritual journey is optional. If, for whatever reason, your church no longer aligns with your values or helps you fulfill your potential, simply find one that does. It’s nothing personal.

Edwards, p19.

When discipleship is framed in terms of self-actualization, even God Himself becomes little more than a sidekick accompanying you on your main character hero quest. When you put it that way, none of this sounds very much like “take up your cross and follow me,” does it?

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So what does it really mean to be a spiritually realized person?

I suppose in some ways, I’m still working toward a complete answer. But here’s what I have so far:

It’s about communion with the Triune God who bids you to come to the table of grace.

And it’s about communion with your brothers and sisters in Christ with whom you share the familial bonds of brokenness and shame.

It’s about rejecting the siren song of self-determination and receiving a truth that comes from without rather than within.

It’s about forsaking the cult of spiritual striving to simply rest in the finished work of Christ.

It’s about Sabbath — for our bodies, to be sure; but also for our weary souls and our heavy-laden hearts.

It’s about experiencing unshakeable peace, no matter what life throws at you.

It’s about descending into the sanctuary of the heart to hear Him say, “You are my beloved!”

Maybe it’s about more than that, I don’t know.

But I know it’s not about anything LESS than that.

And on the cusp of a new year, as 2026 stands before us as a blank slate, I can’t think of a better resolution or controlling idea than this one: over the next twelve months, may I become a more spiritually realized person.

Happy New Year