The Mixed Life: Biblical Roots of the Contemplative Calling
I. Introduction: Defining the "Set of the Soul"
In the frantic velocity of our digital age, contemplation is often dismissed as a luxury of the idle or a psychological escape for the overwhelmed. We tend to view the contemplative life as a literal withdrawal—a shuttering of the windows against the noise of the world. However, as Greg Peters argues in the opening of The Story of Monasticism, this view misinterprets the very DNA of the biblical narrative. Monasticism was never intended to be a new invention or a flight from reality; rather, it was an intensification of a fundamental human calling.
To understand this calling, we must move beyond vague mysticism. Peters grounds his survey in Tom Schwanda’s precise definition from the Zondervan Dictionary of Christian Spirituality: contemplation is "the conscious set of the soul on God."
This definition shifts our focus from where we are to how we are oriented. It suggests that contemplation is not defined by the absence of activity, but by a specific interior posture. It is a "set" of the soul—a deliberate, sustained direction of one’s entire being toward the Divine Presence.
Peters’ introductory thesis hinges on a revolutionary both/and. He contends that the most iconic figures of the Old and New Testaments did not choose between a life of action and a life of prayer. Instead, they practiced what later monastic tradition would call the "mixed life." By examining the lives of Adam, Abraham, Moses, Elijah, and Paul, we see that the active life is not the enemy of the contemplative life, but its outward expression. This is not to suggest, however, that a perfectly symmetrical mixed life is the design for every cell in the human superorganism. As Paul envisioned a diversity of members working together in one body, some may be called more intensely to the front lines of action, while others are set apart for the depths of the interior life. Yet, as we shall see, for these biblical giants, the two lives were inextricably linked.
II. The Prototypes: Contemplation in Action
Adam: The Sustainable Agriculture Contemplative
In the Genesis narrative, Adam is often cast as the first worker, but Peters reminds us that his labor in Eden was inseparable from his intimacy with the Creator. Adam represents the Sustainable Agriculture Contemplative. His active life was the tilling and keeping of the garden—a role we might describe today as feeding the world. This wasn't merely a chore; it was a rhythmic, liturgical stewardship of a living system.
For Adam, the Cord of Non-Violence and the Cord of Sobriety were one and the same. His physical health and the health of the soil were a single, integrated act of worship. This reflects the Law of Simplicity: in the garden, there was no digital noise or artificial complexity to mediate his experience of God. His contemplation was the conscious set of the soul while his hands were in the dirt.
Adam’s life suggests that the environment is not just a backdrop for prayer, but the very medium of it. This is most poignantly expressed in the original Edenic diet. In the 21st century, reclaiming the vegan mandate of Genesis 1:29 is not merely a dietary choice; it is an eco-contemplative essential. To eat from the garden without the violence of the slaughterhouse is to maintain the conscious set of the soul on the peaceful intent of the Creator. Before the Fall, there was no quiet time separate from work time. The active tilling of the earth and the contemplative walking with God in the cool of the day formed a seamless, organic whole. In our modern context, this challenges all monastics to see ecological responsibility—and specifically a plant-based, regenerative relationship with the land—as a primary monastic discipline.
Abraham & Moses: The Nation-State Lawgiver Contemplatives
If Adam represents the contemplative in the garden, Abraham and Moses represent the contemplative in the city-state and the wilderness camp. They are the Nation-State Lawgiver Contemplatives. Their lives were defined by the Cord of Solidarity—the exhausting, active work of building a community, mediating disputes, and establishing justice for a specific people.
Abraham was called out of his country to be the father of many nations, a role that required constant active negotiation with neighbors and kings. Moses was tasked with the bureaucratic and judicial nightmare of leading a million people through a desert. Yet, for both men, these active duties were secondary to the ascent.
- Abraham is the one who "waited for the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God." His solidarity with his family and tribe was fueled by his contemplative vision of a future promise.
- Moses is the quintessential "mixed life" figure: he scales Sinai to enter the thick darkness where God is (contemplation), only to descend with his face shining to deliver the Law (active solidarity).
For the modern Cyber-Monastic, Abraham and Moses prove that political engagement and lawgiving are not secular distractions. Instead, they are the fruits of a soul that has been set on God in the high places. Their example suggests that true solidarity with the human superorganism is only possible when the leader first practices the solitude of the mountain.
Elijah: The Prophetic Ecological Contemplative
Elijah bridges the gap between the lawgiver and the missionary. He is the Prophetic Ecological Contemplative, a man whose active life was a series of confrontations with systemic corruption. Yet, his power to stand against the "Ahabs" of his world came directly from his retreats into the wilderness—the raw, unmediated environment where God speaks.
In Elijah, we see the Law of Silence and the Law of Solitude in their most potent form. He is the monk of the cave and the brook. His life reminds us that the active work of prophecy is unsustainable without the contemplative return to the sheer silence of the desert. He protects the ecology of the spirit by refusing to let the noise of the royal court drown out the still, small voice.
Paul: The Global Missionary Contemplative
Finally, we arrive at Paul, the Global Missionary Contemplative. While Abraham and Moses built a nation, Paul envisioned a global body. This is where we anchor the Cord of Obedience—not just to a local rule, but to the heavenly vision of a world-wide federation in Christ.
Paul’s active life was a whirlwind of work (tent-making) and world (traveling the Roman Empire), yet his letters are the highest peak of Christian contemplative theology. He argues that our obedience is not to the principalities and powers of this world, but to a higher, global law of love. Paul shows us that the further we go "out" into the world (active), the further we must go "in" to the mysteries of God (contemplative).
In the 21st century, this Pauline model takes on a digital dimension. As the Cyber-Monastic turns inward to his silicon cell, he simultaneously turns outward to the global human superorganism through the fiber-optic cables of the internet. In this sense, the modern practitioner is a New Adam; he tills the soil of the database through the garden bed of his screen. The active work of monitoring world affairs and the contemplative act of digital discipline are no longer separate locations. The screen becomes a thin place—a literal interface where the "Sustainable Agriculture" of information stewardship meets the "Global Mission" of a soul set on God.
III. The Synthesis: The Mixed Life as the Human Standard
Greg Peters’ survey of these biblical titans serves a radical purpose: he aims to democratize contemplation. By showing that the fathers of the faith—those tasked with the most grueling active burdens imaginable—were fundamentally contemplatives, he proves that the interior life is not just a specialized vocation for an elite class of hermits. Rather, it is the standard equipment for being human.
The Bell Curve of the Calling
While the mixed life is the standard, it is helpful to view it as a bell curve. In any healthy society (superorganism), there are long tails on either side of the mean.
- The Active Tail: Some individuals are called to a life that is 90% action—the "professional athletes" of social justice, emergency medicine, or global governance.
- The Contemplative Tail: Others are called to the "pure" contemplative life—the hidden intercessors who spend the vast majority of their hours in the silence of the cell.
However, even at the extreme ends of this curve, the other side remains vital. A pure contemplative who neglects the active life entirely—even something as simple as the Cord of Wellness/Sobriety through daily walking—risks spiritual stagnation and a monastic form of escapism. Conversely, the high-octane activist who neglects the "conscious set of the soul on God" inevitably falls victim to the modern plague of workaholism and burnout.
The Danger of the Single Life
The danger of a life that is purely active is that it becomes a hollow performance, fueled by the ego rather than the Divine. Without the set of the soul, work becomes a form of frantic self-justification. On the flip side, a life that is purely contemplative without any outward-facing responsibility can easily devolve into a refined form of narcissism.
Peters argues that the biblical model preserves us from both. Whether you are Adam in the garden or Paul on the road to Damascus, the goal is a synchronized rhythm. The contemplative life provides the cool of the day clarity, while the active life provides the tilling and keeping that grounds our spirituality in the needs of the world.
An Important Clarification
The danger here is not "singleness" in the sense of monastic celibacy or the "single-minded" devotion of the heart to God—both of which are high callings. Rather, the danger lies in a bifurcated existence where one tier of the human experience is neglected at the expense of the other.
- Action without Contemplation: This is the path of the secular "grind" or even the religious "activist." When the active life is divorced from the interior "set of the soul," it becomes a pursuit of material success or ego-driven output. This leads to workaholism and burnout.
- Contemplation without Action: Conversely, when the interior life is divorced from any outward responsibility or physical discipline, it risks becoming a form of spiritual narcissism. Even the most solitary hermit remains part of the superorganism through prayer and the simple work of self-sustenance.
By maintaining the Mixed Life, we ensure that our "single-minded" focus on God (Contemplation) actually informs our "single-hearted" service to the world (Action). In this light, the monastic "single life" is not a withdrawal into a vacuum, but a specialized concentration of the very same balance every human is called to strike.
IV. Conclusion: Setting the Stage for Bethany
The lives of these biblical giants suggest that the mixed life—that rhythmic oscillation between the mountain and the plain—is the blueprint for a flourishing soul. Whether we are tilling the earth like Adam, governing like Moses, or traveling the world like Paul, the "conscious set of the soul on God" remains the primary anchor.
However, accepting the mixed life as a theological standard is one thing; living it out in the heat of the moment is another. Even if we agree that action and contemplation are two sides of the same coin, we often find them in direct competition for our time, our energy, and our attention.
This tension reaches its peak in one of the most famous domestic scenes in the New Testament. If the mixed life is the ideal, how do we interpret the moment when Jesus enters the home of two sisters in Bethany? One is lost in the active life of hospitality; the other is submerged in the contemplative life of listening.
Tomorrow, we will step into that house to see if the balance we've established today holds up under the gaze of Christ. We will ask: if the two lives are meant to be one, why did Jesus tell Martha that her sister Mary had chosen "the better part"? Was Jesus telling his disciples—and us—that a life of the mind is superior to a life of the heart?
Constructed by Gemini with prompts and edits by Jonathan:
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