Christian mysticism and richard rohr

This is part five of a series around the concept of spiritual formation. This series seeks to explore spiritual formation carefully and biblically—listening with empathy, asking thoughtful questions, and grounding our understanding firmly in Scripture. Here are the previous articles: PART ONE; PART TWO; PART THREE; PART FOUR. Jeff Chacon also offers a good primer HERE.

In the next few articles, I would like to discuss an emerging movement that stands at the heart of much modern spiritual formation – mysticism.

Mysticism is not new (it is actually very old), but it is a phenomenon that has been repackaged, retaught, and reframed in today’s evangelical community.  It’s also intertwined with church life and is defended by many popular leaders and authors.  This makes it challenging to define or pin down accurately, and puts quite a heavy burden on people like myself, who struggle to accurately define today’s manifestation of it, mostly because it doesn’t present itself in its pure, historical form.

Unfortunately, people who try to critique how it has co-mingled itself with orthodox beliefs and practices can get labeled as defensive or unopen to new ideas.  Obviously, that is a gross generalization that needs to be avoided.

LET'S TRY TO DEFINE IT

Here are some definitions of mysticism from across a wide spectrum of thought.

• “Belief in direct experience of transcendent reality or God, especially by means of contemplation and asceticism instead of rational thought.”[1]

• Mysticism is “the belief that union with or absorption into the Deity or the absolute…is attainable through contemplation and self-surrender.”[2]

• “Mysticism is the expression of the innate tendency of the human spirit towards complete harmony with the transcendental order; whatever be the theological formula under which that order is understood.”[3]

• “Mysticism proposes that one may achieve direct and immediate apprehension of the knowledge of God but only though the pathway of mystical contemplation that eschews temporal and finite categories of rational understanding.”[4]

• “When we understand mysticism as simply the daily experience of God and his Kingdom, we can say that mysticism is the normal Christian life.”[5]

• “We are to live in a perpetual, inward, listening silence so that God is the source of our words and actions.”[6]

• “…the ultimate goal of all mysticism is an unmediated encounter with the divine being (e.g. God in the case of Christianity, the universe in the case of Buddhism, the spirit world in the case of animism, Allah in the case of Islam).[7]

Just so you know, I was trained as an architect, love to sketch and paint in watercolor, am inspired by sunsets, and am generally drawn closer to God when I see the beauty of nature.  I see and experience God in so much that He has made.  That is not what I’m referring to here.  I’m not referring to being inspired by God’s magnificent creation.

What I am talking about is the slow but deliberate move inward as a place of spiritual authority, bolstered not necessarily by the full scope of scripture, but by desires, feelings, and experiences.  

The difference is huge.

LET'S NOT CONFUSE IT WITH MYSTERY OR THE SUPERNATURAL

One of the important distinctions Christians must make is the difference between the mysterious and mysticism. Christianity absolutely contains mystery. Scripture teaches realities that go beyond human explanation. For example, we cannot fully explain how the Holy Spirit transforms a heart, how God providentially works through prayer, or how the power that raised Jesus from the dead now works in believers. The Bible speaks of truths that are glorious, spiritual, and in many ways beyond our finite understanding. Paul himself declared, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!” (Romans 11:33).

There is a humble acknowledgment throughout Scripture that God is infinitely greater than we are.  It needs to be that way.

But mystery in the Bible is not the same thing as mysticism. Biblical mystery refers to truths that originate with God and are revealed by Him. They are objective realities grounded in God’s Word, not subjective experiences discovered by looking inward.

The gospel itself was once called a “mystery” (Ephesians 3:3–6), not because it was hidden in secret spiritual experiences, but because it was previously concealed and then openly revealed through Christ and the apostles at God’s appointed time.

Scripture consistently points us outward—to God’s revealed truth—rather than inward to hidden sparks of divinity or private spiritual insight.

Mysticism, on the other hand, often seeks hidden knowledge or direct experiences beyond the ordinary means of Scripture, reason, and revelation. It tends to emphasize inward journeys, altered states of consciousness, silence, contemplation, or subjective impressions as pathways to deeper spiritual truth. In many forms of mysticism, truth becomes increasingly detached from the objective authority of Scripture and increasingly rooted in personal experience.  

Those experiences often become formative, are seen as truthful, and are given authority.  I have talked to far too many disciples who often, intentionally or unknowingly, attribute truth to their private inner experiences, regardless of what Scripture says.

Christianity does not ask believers to abandon reason, nor does it teach that truth is found by escaping the mind. Rather, biblical faith calls us to love God with our hearts and our minds (Mark 12:30).

The Holy Spirit certainly works in ways we cannot fully explain, but He never works contrary to the Word He inspired. The Christian life contains awe, wonder, and mystery, but it remains firmly anchored in the revealed truth of Scripture, not in the pursuit of mystical experience for its own sake.

If we’re not careful, this can work to change our view of God himself.   The danger is subtle but significant: instead of God’s Word interpreting our experiences, our experiences begin to interpret God.

A MODERN DAY EXAMPLE

Most of the people reading this will know who Richard Rohr is.  Rohr is a Catholic Franciscan friar and is the founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  Progressive leaders and authors such as Brian McLaren and Rob Bell, as well as popular author Ruth Haley Barton, have been profoundly influenced by Rohr’s teaching.  Though he might not have directly influenced him, Richard Foster helped popularize contemplative spirituality within evangelicalism, a movement that overlaps significantly with themes later emphasized by Richard Rohr.

So why bring him up?  For a couple of reasons.

First, many Christians today find Rohr deeply inspiring, and there is a depth and truth to what he writes.  It resonates with folks.  Second, and most importantly, his teaching draws heavily from a very non-Christian view of what it means to be human and know God.

At the heart of Richard Rohr’s theology is a way of seeing God and the world that closely resembles an ancient philosophy called Neoplatonism, developed by the third-century thinker Plotinus. This philosophy holds that everything in existence flows from a single divine source, often called “the One.” Rather than God being distinct from His creation, Neoplatonism suggests that God is somehow present in everything and everyone. This helps explain why Rohr often speaks of a “universal Christ”—the idea that Christ is not only revealed in Jesus but is already present in all people and all creation.

Hmm, that sounds a lot like Pantheism, which holds that God and the universe are one, eliminating the need for a distinct Creator.

In Neoplatonic thought, every person has a kind of “divine spark” within them that has been corrupted. The problem, then, is not primarily sin in the biblical sense, but ignorance — we don’t realize who we truly are. The spiritual journey becomes one of turning inward, quieting ourselves, and awakening to this inner divinity.

If you’ve heard me speak about the Enneagram, a pagan-based personality profile popularized in evangelical circles by Rohr, you’ll recognize this. Neoplatonism radically redefines sin, instead suggesting our flaws are the result of us not living into our real selves.  In fact, each Enneagram type comes with a core flaw, something we resist in favor of our authentic self.  In other words, we resist our flawed self, are made whole by embracing our authentic self.

This is not a Christian idea!  

We find new life by recognizing our sin, repenting, and living into the life of Christ, not any so-called authentic version of us.  We die to ourselves, all of it.  Rohr believes salvation is found by leaning into our true selves, but in reality, we are saved by someone completely distinct from ourselves.

According to Rohr, through practices like silence, contemplation, and detachment from the material world, a person is believed to gradually reconnect with the divine presence within and ultimately experience a kind of union with God.

At its fullest expression, this journey leads to what many mystics describe as “oneness” with God, in which the distinction between the individual and God begins to dissolve. In this view, salvation is not about forgiveness of sin through Christ, but about awakening to unity with the divine.

While this can sound deeply spiritual and appealing, it represents a very different framework from the Bible, which teaches that God is distinct from His creation and that our relationship with Him is restored not by looking inward but through the saving work of Jesus Christ.

ROHR'S MYSTICAL DISTORTION OF JESUS AND THE CROSS

So why should the average Christian care what kind of theology lies beneath the teaching of an inspiring figure?  Theology matters, especially as it pertains to how we view the person of Jesus and our sin that put him on the cross.  If those things get watered down or twisted, should you trust the person teaching?

One of the clearest concerns with Richard Rohr’s teaching is his understanding of Jesus Himself. In his opinion, if Christians could comprehend, or reimagine the real person of Jesus, it could radically transform our lives.  The problem is, he offers a very watered-down and faulty version of Jesus and the crucial work accomplished on the cross.

In historic Christianity, Jesus is not merely a spiritual example, enlightened teacher, or symbol of divine presence. He is the unique Son of God, fully God and fully man, the one mediator between God and humanity (1 Timothy 2:5). Rohr, however, expands the meaning of “Christ” far beyond the person of Jesus.

In The Universal Christ, he writes that the incarnation was not simply “God becoming Jesus,” but rather “a much broader event.” He continues by describing “the presence of the divine in literally ‘everything’ and ‘everyone.’”[8] In Rohr’s framework, Christ becomes less the unique Savior revealed in Scripture and more a universal divine presence woven throughout creation itself.  

It’s worth repeating:  Jesus is not in everything; he stands above everything.

Rohr dramatically reshapes the biblical portrait of Jesus. Scripture presents Christ as uniquely exalted above all others — crucified, risen, ascended, and reigning at the right hand of God (Philippians 2:9–11; Ephesians 1:20–21). Rohr, however, often places Jesus alongside other “master teachers” such as Buddha, Rumi, and St. Teresa, speaking of them together as spiritual guides who discovered similar truths.  I suppose Christians can appreciate insights from various thinkers, but the New Testament never treats Jesus as merely one enlightened voice among many.

Jesus does not simply reveal a path to God; He declares Himself to be “the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6). By redefining Christ as a universal spiritual reality already present in all people, Rohr ultimately diminishes the uniqueness and supremacy of Jesus revealed in Scripture.

A second major concern is Rohr’s view of the atonement, Jesus’ saving work on the cross.

Historic Christianity teaches that Jesus died as a sacrificial substitute for sinners, bearing the judgment of sin so that humanity could be reconciled to God (Isaiah 53:5–6; Romans 3:25–26; 2 Corinthians 5:21). Rohr rejects this understanding outright. In The Universal Christ, he writes, “Jesus did not come to change God’s mind about us. It did not need changing. Jesus came to change our minds about God.”[9] 

In Rohr’s telling, the cross primarily becomes a sort of a psychological demonstration of love and solidarity rather than a saving act that accomplishes forgiveness, defeats sin, and satisfies divine justice.

The problem with this view is that it empties the cross of its central biblical meaning. The New Testament consistently presents Jesus’ death as accomplishing something objective outside of ourselves. Christ did not merely inspire humanity or offer an example of sacrificial love; He “bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). Paul declares that “in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins” (Ephesians 1:7).

Rohr’s interpretation shifts the focus away from humanity’s guilt before a holy God and toward inner enlightenment and changed perception. In doing so, the cross becomes less about salvation from sin and more about awakening people to a divine reality supposedly already within them.[10]

EXERCISING DISCERNMENT

Does all this really matter?  Yes, it matters deeply.

Ideas about Jesus are never small things. If Jesus is no longer the unique Son of God, but merely a universal spiritual presence found in everyone and everything, then the gospel itself begins to unravel. If the cross was not truly a sacrificial atonement for sin, but merely a symbol meant to change our perspective, then humanity is not really guilty before a holy God, and forgiveness is no longer something we desperately need.

This is why Christians must exercise discernment.

False teaching rarely arrives looking dangerous. It usually sounds compassionate, thoughtful, spiritual, and deep. But once the uniqueness of Christ is flattened and the meaning of the cross is redefined, Christianity becomes something entirely different from the faith “once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3).

The good news of Scripture is not that we discover a divine spark within ourselves. The good news is that sinful people can be reconciled to a holy God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Our hope is not found by looking inward, but by looking upward—to the crucified and risen Savior who alone has the power to forgive sin, defeat death, and make us new.

Daren Overstreet

Daren is a Senior Leader at Anchor Point Church in Tampa, Florida.  He has been in ministry for nearly 30 years, and holds a Master’s Degree in Missional Theology

You can contact him at

daren@anchorpointtampa.org 

[1]The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 5th ed., s.v. “mysticism,” accessed online.         

[2] Encyclopaedia Britannica, s.v. “mysticism,” accessed May 18, 2026, https://www.britannica.com/topic/mysticism.

[3] Evelyn Underhill, Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Spiritual Consciousness (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1990), xiv.

[4] Bruce A. Ware, “Mysticism, Rationalism, and Divine Revelation,” The Gospel Coalition, accessed May 18, 2026.

[5] John Eldredge, Experience Jesus. Really. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2020), 5.

[6] Richard Foster, Celebration of Discipline: The Path to Spiritual Growth (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1978), 15.

[7] E. Gilley, Gary. Out of Formation: The Infiltration of the Spiritual Formation Movement and Its Impact on Evangelicalism (p. 71). G3 Press. Kindle Edition.

[8] Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ (New York: Convergent Books, 2019), 18.

[9] Rohr, The Universal Christ, 151.

[10] Hans A. Finzel, “Richard Rohr’s Incarnational Worldview,” Verbum et Ecclesia 42, no. 1 (2021), SciELO South Africa article, accessed May 18, 2026.