It was five a.m. Good Friday morning.

I’d nestled into my den with a cup of coffee for morning quiet time and had just read an email post from a well-respected spiritual writer.

In her reflection, the writer accused a political candidate of scapegoating and tried to contrast him with Jesus. I re-read the post. Lost in the political rhetoric, I couldn’t figure out what the author was trying to say. All I heard was a hidden message: “Don’t vote for this individual.”

It wasn’t the candidate under attack that concerned me. What troubled me was the decision the writer had made to use her spiritual-life center platform to widen the political divide.

Those readers opposed to the named candidate would cheer, while others supporting the candidate would shake their heads in anger. It saddened me to see this division growing within a respected spiritual community.

I sat back on my couch, closed my eyes, and tried to release my anger. But my anger wouldn’t have it. It festered in my heart like an infected boil.

I took my lament to God. The Creator nudged me to contact the writer. I found her phone number on her website and dialed it. When the call went into voicemail, I messaged my concerns and invited her to call me back if she wanted further dialogue.

“What next?” I asked the Creator as my anger catapulted into action. Lost in confusion, I wanted to get a better understanding of what our spiritual teachers have said over the years regarding the dangers of mixing politics with spirituality.

I dove headfirst into research mode.

A quote from Thomas Merton in his book, Contemplative Prayer, summarized what I felt was wrong with the growing trend of high-profile spiritual writers mixing politics with spirituality.

Merton wrote, “You cannot be a prophet and a politician at the same time.”

He warned that if our political words as writers overtake the spiritual message we’re writing about, the message gets lost.

We become pawns of the politicians.

Merton often spoke out about the Vietnam war. He railed against big government and the industrial complex. But he never publicly endorsed or slammed a specific political candidate.

Instead, he focused his writing and public speaking on issues rather than on individual political figures. He focused on promoting peace, understanding each other, and striving for social justice.

He did not align himself with particular politicians or parties. His approach kept his message pure and apolitical. 

A stage falls prey to its shadow side when individuals take on negative characteristics such as selfishness, bigotry, intellectual arrogance, or elitism, which hinder individual and societal progress toward empathy, inclusivity, and holistic problem-solving.

He advocates embracing the insights from each stage, relinquishing the errors, and, guided by the Divine, ascending to the ultimate pinnacle of wholeness.

Rohr assigns colors to Wilber’s stages to depict their unique characteristics and potentials. Among the most notable levels are:

Red. Courageous.

In this stage, individuals are courageous, focused on safety and survival needs. They promote community as they work together for the common good.

Its shadow side appears when individuals are primarily motivated by power, ego gratification, and a me-versus-them mentality.

Blue. Traditional.

This stage emphasizes adherence to rules, hierarchy, and authority. It fosters a sense of order and conformity, valuing defined roles and disciplined behavior.

Its shadow emerges when rigidity leads to an overly simplistic worldview.

Green. Intellectual.

In this phase, individuals prioritize higher education, reinterpret history from a perspective of social justice, and champion robust intellectual inquiry.

As Rohr describes, this phase devolves into what he terms “mean green,” when individuals succumb to spiritual arrogance; when convinced of possessing absolute truth, they insist others must align with their views and silence those that don’t.

Turquoise. Transcend and Include. Accept and Integrate.

This stage represents a holistic and integrated perspective, where individuals transcend previous dualities and embrace complexity and interconnectedness at a deeper level.

In this stage, individuals and communities accept the wisdom of the previous levels, discern the limitations and mistakes of the other stages, and move forward with Divine Guidance.

Wilbur calls this movement toward our highest good, the ability to “transcend and include.”  With open hearts and minds, we acknowledge our incompleteness in grasping the entirety of truth. We humbly lean into grace for understanding as we join together seeking personal and communal growth.

This is the stage of spiritual maturity and wisdom. Wholeness.

As I pondered Rohr and Wilber’s models, it occurred to me that much of the division and political upheaval we are experiencing stems from the shadow side of these stages.

The refusal to transcend and include and the rejection of the need to accept and integrate stifles our growth toward the turquoise—higher level of wholeness. 

My cell phone rang while I was in the middle of my research. I smiled when I saw it was the blog post author returning my call.

Over the next half hour, we listened to each other with respect as we explained our thoughts and concerns.

The writer indicated she felt it was her job to be a prophet, to unmask lies, and to frame her reflections in the light of gospel values. She felt it was her duty to offer her Good Friday meditation as a way to plead for the end of scapegoating.

I suggested her message was lost by pinpointing a specific politician. It conflicted with the spiritual life center’s mission statement of being “all inclusive” because it marginalized those individuals who did not share her political views. By demonizing a specific candidate, it seemed she might have unintentionally engaged in the very scapegoating she condemned.