Grateful For The Practice
Nov 01, 2025 06:00AM ● By Rev Jenn Sacks
Earlier in my life, I favored the theoretical over the practical. With a master’s degree in literature, I took pride in being an excellent researcher, especially about other faith traditions and the unfolding of our divine soul.
For a while, I was active in a synagogue singles group, seeking to deepen my experience of God and make new friends. One day, I attended an event where a dynamic female rabbi shared about participating in an interfaith conference.
“The best part was sharing how wonderful Judaism is,” she said.
As I listened, I realized I already knew a lot about what she was teaching and wanted to learn more about other faiths. I politely excused myself from the gathering to continue my spiritual explorations.
The next part of my journey led me to mystical Catholicism and a Sunday evening group for vespers and readings of Teresa of Avila and Hildegard of Bingen. I met several lovely people there as well, but I felt pressured to attend adult catechism and convert.
“You know you can’t take communion until you do that,” I was told.
I moved on to a Dzogchen Buddhist sangha. There, I enjoyed our Wednesday night gatherings, learning the Boundless Awareness meditation and sharing cake and coffee afterward. And with a few sangha friends, I attended a nine-day silent retreat in New England led by Lama Surya Das, where we stayed in an old monastery. Each room had a crucifix hanging on the wall facing the bed.
“How ironic,” I thought. “I am not becoming Catholic, but am I becoming Buddhist?” I was eager to learn, so I meditated diligently and read from Buddhist texts during breaks.
One evening, during a brief Q&A session, Lama Surya Das gave another attendant a Buddhist name; it was a kind of blessing that people chose to receive from time to time. When I reflected on her choice, I knew I preferred being Jenn and did not want another name. I could not commit to Buddhism, so I studied in silence for the rest of the retreat.
A year or so after that, I made several friends in a Master Mind group at my local Unity church and began attending Sunday services. I continued reading various spiritual books, sometimes sitting so long that my body became tense. I assured myself I was being a good student.
Eventually, though, I developed spiritual indigestion. New Thought Practical Christianity calls this “chemicalization”— a condition that occurs when new beliefs conflict with old ones—and it can be deeply physical. Like the indigestion we can get from eating disagreeable foods, this “indigestion” paralyzed my system. I was exhausted from constant headaches and colds. I ate little food; I only drank warm ginger ale and ate small bowls of chicken rice soup. I missed several days of work and skipped a few Sundays at church. I had a stack of books to fill the hours at home, but I didn’t want to read—not even a novel. Instead, I watched movies like Wayne’s World, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and Legally Blonde.
Wrapped in my bathrobe, clutching my box of tissues, I laughed so hard I cried.
“Enough with all the spiritual theories,” I told myself. “Just get out there and live the Spirit.”
I gathered up all my books and put them on a shelf. Soon, the headaches and colds disappeared, and my system began to heal. I began walking outside. Then I joined a gym. Eventually, I committed to teaching one class at church and to serving as a worship leader. I remembered to make time for fun.
Even in seminary, I didn’t read every assigned text or study as much as was recommended. I enjoyed the hands-on experiences of my internships as well as applying everything I learned to ministry. I encouraged others to not only read about the teachings but to apply them to their own lives.
Recently, I heard 803Fresh’s song “Boots on the Ground” and immediately added it to my workout playlist. The lyrics “Boots on the ground / Kicking up some dust” remind me that theories can be instructive, but living what I know is most important now. Every day, I am grateful for the practice. ❧
Senior minister of Unity Atlanta Church, Rev. Jenn Sacks is a preacher, writer, Intuition Medicine practitioner/coach, medical intuitive, energy healer and MBTI-certified practitioner. Connect with her at RevJenn.com.
For a while, I was active in a synagogue singles group, seeking to deepen my experience of God and make new friends. One day, I attended an event where a dynamic female rabbi shared about participating in an interfaith conference.
“The best part was sharing how wonderful Judaism is,” she said.
As I listened, I realized I already knew a lot about what she was teaching and wanted to learn more about other faiths. I politely excused myself from the gathering to continue my spiritual explorations.
The next part of my journey led me to mystical Catholicism and a Sunday evening group for vespers and readings of Teresa of Avila and Hildegard of Bingen. I met several lovely people there as well, but I felt pressured to attend adult catechism and convert.
“You know you can’t take communion until you do that,” I was told.
I moved on to a Dzogchen Buddhist sangha. There, I enjoyed our Wednesday night gatherings, learning the Boundless Awareness meditation and sharing cake and coffee afterward. And with a few sangha friends, I attended a nine-day silent retreat in New England led by Lama Surya Das, where we stayed in an old monastery. Each room had a crucifix hanging on the wall facing the bed.
“How ironic,” I thought. “I am not becoming Catholic, but am I becoming Buddhist?” I was eager to learn, so I meditated diligently and read from Buddhist texts during breaks.
One evening, during a brief Q&A session, Lama Surya Das gave another attendant a Buddhist name; it was a kind of blessing that people chose to receive from time to time. When I reflected on her choice, I knew I preferred being Jenn and did not want another name. I could not commit to Buddhism, so I studied in silence for the rest of the retreat.
A year or so after that, I made several friends in a Master Mind group at my local Unity church and began attending Sunday services. I continued reading various spiritual books, sometimes sitting so long that my body became tense. I assured myself I was being a good student.
Eventually, though, I developed spiritual indigestion. New Thought Practical Christianity calls this “chemicalization”— a condition that occurs when new beliefs conflict with old ones—and it can be deeply physical. Like the indigestion we can get from eating disagreeable foods, this “indigestion” paralyzed my system. I was exhausted from constant headaches and colds. I ate little food; I only drank warm ginger ale and ate small bowls of chicken rice soup. I missed several days of work and skipped a few Sundays at church. I had a stack of books to fill the hours at home, but I didn’t want to read—not even a novel. Instead, I watched movies like Wayne’s World, Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure and Legally Blonde.
Wrapped in my bathrobe, clutching my box of tissues, I laughed so hard I cried.
“Enough with all the spiritual theories,” I told myself. “Just get out there and live the Spirit.”
I gathered up all my books and put them on a shelf. Soon, the headaches and colds disappeared, and my system began to heal. I began walking outside. Then I joined a gym. Eventually, I committed to teaching one class at church and to serving as a worship leader. I remembered to make time for fun.
Even in seminary, I didn’t read every assigned text or study as much as was recommended. I enjoyed the hands-on experiences of my internships as well as applying everything I learned to ministry. I encouraged others to not only read about the teachings but to apply them to their own lives.
Recently, I heard 803Fresh’s song “Boots on the Ground” and immediately added it to my workout playlist. The lyrics “Boots on the ground / Kicking up some dust” remind me that theories can be instructive, but living what I know is most important now. Every day, I am grateful for the practice. ❧
