A Special Kind of Mystic

How radical mystics redefine what it means to be a spiritual superhero

Kenneth Leech (1939-2015), author, activist, and all-around radical mystic.

The other day when Debonee and I recorded the second episode of our Radical Mystics podcast, I introduced us by saying “We are the radical mystics.” Simple enough — that is the name of our podcast, right?

But it did make a twitch a wee bit. Let me explain why.

As I have written elsewhere, many years ago I made a promise to the British theologian and contemplative writer Kenneth Leech not to call myself a mystic. I got to know Ken through a mutual friend (actually my spiritual director at the time; Ken had been his spiritual director) and while I don’t think I can claim he was my mentor, he was always very kind and encouraging when we would meet and I would ask to pick his brain on whatever project I happened to be working on.

It was while I was working on the first draft of the book that, years later, would be published as The Big Book of Christian Mysticism when Ken cautioned me against calling myself a mystic. In his mind, to be called a mystic was an honor — like being regarded as a saint or a shaman. One does not just decide “I am a mystic” just like no one would dare to say “I am a physician” or “I am a therapist” just because they liked to think of themselves that way. Honorifics are earned, not self-bestowed.

Ken wasn’t trying to rain on my parade, though. He said, “Don’t call yourself a mystic, just be a mystic. Leave it to other people to decide if you are a mystic or not.”

All these years later, I think it’s cracking good advice.

To this day I often tell people that everyone is a mystic — but I still shy away from applying the word to myself. Performative humility, perhaps? Or just honoring a promise made to someone I admire many years ago.

So even announcing the podcast: “We’re the radical mystics” felt like a wee bit of a transgression against that promise. But on reflection, I think it is appropriate for me or Debonee to say “we’re the radical mystics” — for these reasons:

1. It’s the name of the podcast, for heaven’s sake. For Debonee and I to say we’re the Radical Mystics is rather like Michael Gungor and Hillary McBride calling themselves the Liturgists. It’s not a comment on their ability to lead worship (although I suppose they’d make fine liturgists), it’s simply the name they give to themselves for creating their audio content.

2. As much as I continue to admire Ken Leech, I have to admit that I probably use the word “mystic” differently than he did. Ken came of age in the 1950s, before the huge renaissance of contemplative spirituality that took place in the sixties and beyond. And even though he was very much at the forefront of that renaissance, I think we can still assume that his formation in spirituality came at an earlier age, when “mystic” implied almost being a kind of spiritual superhero. I suspect that for Ken, saying “I’m a mystic” is rather like saying “I’m Superman.” That would be silly at best, at worst delusional.
   But I frankly understand mystics and mysticism in a different way, one that stresses how ordinary mystics are rather than how exceptional they might be. I heartily subscribe to the notion, popularized by Br. David Steindl-Rast, that “the mystic is not a special kind of human being, but every human being is a special kind of mystic.” If that’s true, then it should be a good thing for people to claim themselves as mystics: they are embracing the fullest authenticity of their spiritual selves.

3. And finally, there’s the specific kind of mystic that we are talking about: not just a mystic, but a radical mystic. A mystic who is rooted. Grounded. Embodied and earthy. A mystic who embraces their contemplative path fully and completely, and who wants to give their all to the transforming beauty and power of the interior life. This has real world, meaningful implications not just on the inside, but in our shared common lives as well. Once again, I think part of what makes radical mystics so, well, radical, is just how humble and down-to-each such an approach to spirituality can be. To be a radical mystic is not about levitating like Teresa of Ávila or manifesting the stigmata like Padre Pio (even though I’m all for a good miracle or two). To radical mystics, the greatest miracles of all are paradoxically the most ordinary: the miracle of love, of compassion, of forgiveness, of reconcilation, of peace, of justice, of building community, of appreciating the many small wonders and quiet beauties of life.

For those reasons, I have to amend that old promise to Ken Leech. I’m not going to put on airs about being special or “chosen by God” by suggesting I’m a mystic (in the old understanding of the word); but I am all for saying “we are radical mystics” — with the implicit understanding that the we means potentially everyone.

And let me end by noting that Ken Leech, priest of the Church of England, internationally known leader in combating racism and religious bigotry, tireless champion for the poor and the unhoused, and one with a deep and abiding love the Spirit encountered in deep silence: he was a radical mystic if ever there were one!