When "Going Through the Motions" Stops Working

You know that feeling when you've done all the "right" things and still feel stuck?

You meditated. You prayed. You said the words, attended the thing, performed the spiritual duty. And... nothing. Or maybe a brief lift that evaporated by Tuesday.

There's a reason for that. And it's not that you're doing it wrong.

The Setup We Inherited

John the Baptist had crowds coming to him for baptism. People confessing their sins, getting dunked in the Jordan River, going home feeling cleansed. Nice ritual. Meaningful symbol.

But John himself said: I'm just the opening act. Someone's coming who will baptize you with something else entirely. Not water. Spirit.

Here's what's wild: Jesus still went to John to be baptized. He participated in the ritual even though he didn't need it. Why? Because meeting people where they are isn't the same as leaving them there.

The ritual wasn't the point. It was the doorway.

The Difference Between Wet and Clean

Mary Baker Eddy nailed it: "Jesus established no ritualistic worship. He knew that men can be baptized, partake of the Eucharist, support the clergy, observe the Sabbath, make long prayers, and yet be sensual and sinful."

Ouch. And also... yeah.

You can do every single external thing and have zero internal shift. The motions don't guarantee the movement.

But here's where it gets interesting. The lesson this week talks about being "baptized into Christ" - which means something completely different than getting wet. It means being so immersed in a new understanding that you're clothed in it. You're walking around wearing different consciousness like you'd wear a coat.

That's not ritual. That's identity shift.

From Sad Supper to Joyful Breakfast

There's this beautiful contrast in the lesson between two meals Jesus shared with his disciples.

The Last Supper: "a mournful occasion, a sad supper taken at the close of day, in the twilight of a glorious career with shadows fast falling around."

And then, after the resurrection, breakfast on the beach at Galilee: "His gloom had passed into glory, and his disciples' grief into repentance - hearts chastened and pride rebuked."

Same people. Same Jesus. Same bread and fish.

Completely different experience.

The supper was ending something. The breakfast was beginning something. The supper happened in the dying light. The breakfast happened at dawn.

Here's the shift: the supper was Jesus' "last concession to matter." After that? Pure Spirit. And everything changed.

What Actually Transforms

So what's the practical takeaway for those of us who aren't hanging out in ancient Galilee?

The lesson offers this: "Become conscious for a single moment that Life and intelligence are purely spiritual - neither in nor of matter - and the body will then utter no complaints."

A single moment. Not years of practice. Not mastery. One genuine shift in what you're identifying as.

When you stop trying to fix your life from the outside-in and start recognizing that your experience flows from consciousness, the whole game changes. You're not performing transformation. You're recognizing what's already true.

Our bread, the lesson says, is Truth. Our cup is the cross (the willingness to let false beliefs die). Our wine is "the inspiration of Love."

None of those require a ceremony. All of them require a choice.

The Question Worth Sitting With

If you've been going through spiritual motions that aren't moving you anywhere, maybe the invitation isn't to try harder at the ritual.

Maybe it's to ask: What would it feel like to wake up on the other side of this? To have the sad supper behind me and the joyful breakfast ahead?

Not someday. Now.

Because "being present with the Lord" doesn't mean waiting until you die or achieve enlightenment. It means having "the actual demonstration and understanding of Life as revealed" - right here, in your regular Tuesday, in your real circumstances.

The ritual is optional. The transformation isn't.