11 min read ⭑

Alex Sosler works as an associate professor at Montreat College and the assisting priest at Redeemer Anglican Church in Asheville, North Carolina. But he doesn’t study and write about theology for the sake of informing or debating other theologians. Instead, he writes to be understood and, more importantly, to live by love and help others do the same. A mystic at heart, Alex infuses this spiritual view of the world into his speaking, teaching and writing. He’s written two books — “A Short Guide to Spiritual Formation,” which won the 2025 Christian Living Book of the Year, and “Learning to Love” — with more to come. He also cowrote “The Artistic Vision” with Gary Ball, with whom he also hosts a podcast by the same name.

In today’s interview, Alex is opening up about his thoughts on the spirituality of food, the spiritual rejuvenation found in silence and the Eucharist, and his dream of one day opening a church-based, nonprofit organic grocery in Asheville.

QUESTION #1: ACQUAINT

The meals we enjoy are about so much more than the food we eat. So how does a “go-to” meal at your favorite hometown restaurant reveal the true you behind your web bio?

This is one of the most challenging questions I’ve ever been asked. Food and place are my two favorite things. I’m currently working on a book about the spirituality of food and beverage with a taste of Southern Appalachia, so I’m thinking about this all the time.

Cleveland, Ohio, is home, but I currently live in Asheville, North Carolina, so I’ll keep us in Southern Appalachia. (But don’t hate on Cleveland — it has an awesome food scene).

I’d take you to a two-part dinner (or more if you needed a drink before or after): a plate at Good Hot Fish followed by tacos at Taqueria Rosita.

First, we’d head over to the South Slope Brewery District to go to Ashleigh Shanti’s Good Hot Fish. She highlights African, Southern and Southern Appalachian foodways. There are fish specials all the time, so check the board, but I’d have to introduce you to the sweet potato-cabbage pancake, which I know sounds weird, but it’s one of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten.

Then we’d go back to my neighborhood in West Asheville. My neighbor, Luis Martinez, owns and is the chef behind Rosita, named after his late mom. He’s an indigenous native from Oaxaca, Mexico, and at Rosita, he highlights the flavors of home. From importing and grinding his corn for the tortillas to nixtamalized carrots, everything is amazing. It’s located in a neighborhood dive bar aptly named The Odd, and ... it’s odd. But there’s some mysterious beauty in the dive bar aesthetic.

QUESTION #2: REVEAL

We’ve all got quirky proclivities and out-of-the-way interests. So what are yours? What so-called “nonspiritual” activity do you love engaging in that also helps you find essential spiritual renewal?

Maybe I’m hungry from the first question, but eating. Can I say that? Eating is essential spiritual renewal — mostly because I reject the spiritual/material divide. All things are invitations to meet God.

The Episcopal priest Robert Farrar Capon wrote a quasi-cookbook in 1969 that is more of a theological meditation on food. He wrote things like, “Food is the daily sacrament of unnecessary goodness, ordained for a continual remembrance that the world will always be more delicious than useful.” I love that.

I do most of the cooking in the home because I’ve come to love it. I’m an amateur (which literally means “lover,” as Capon reminds me), but I’m learning. Chefs are those who can take ordinary ingredients — chicken or peppers or grain — and transfigure them into something beautiful and tasty. God could have just given us meal replacement shakes, and say, “Here you go,” but he makes taste and smell and sight. I make fun of people who say, “Dining experience,” but there’s something about dining that can be an experience. I can’t do that every meal (I have three young children, and sometimes, pesto pasta or chicken nuggets will have to do), but when I can, I love to meet God in cooking. Hospital and hospitality have the same root — both can be healing.

For a lamer answer, I also like to run, cycle and lift. That’s less spiritual and more for my mental health than anything. And I mainly work out so I can justify my eating habits.

QUESTION #3: CONFESS

Every superhero has a weakness; every human too. We’re just good at faking it. But who are we kidding? We’re all broken and in this thing together. So what’s your kryptonite, and how do you deal with it?

Hi, my name is Alex, and I’m overly ambitious.

I hate losing more than I like winning. Life is a competition, and I’m here to outwork everyone around me. I love being successful: checking things off my to-do list, being busy, getting acclaim, being recognized. I love being impressive.

In the modern world, ambition has become a virtue, and this is not some humble brag. (To quote Michael Scott from “The Office” when asked about his weakness: “I work too hard, I care too much, and sometimes I can be too invested in my job.”)

The Catholic monk Thomas Merton said that you shouldn’t pursue the contemplative life of stillness and silent prayer until after 40. If you’re under 40, you’re too ambitious. You still want to accomplish too much.

The problem is that relationships don’t work with a hustle mentality. As I’ve learned, I can’t grind my way to a good marriage. So when my marriage has difficulties, I can slip into the habits of ambition. After all, work responds when I try really hard. But my wife isn’t as impressed. And my kids don’t care. They want my attention.

So I’m trying to slow down, to be present, to be content. The most helpful habit I have is contemplative, silent prayer — being in the presence of God and knowing that he loves me before I accomplish anything and whether or not I do anything. And because I have these pesky kids, that means my morning usually starts pretty early.

QUESTION #4: FIRE UP

Tell us about your toil. How are you investing your professional time right now? What’s your current obsession? And why should it be ours?

I’m on sabbatical this year from teaching at Montreat College (which helps with the slower pace of life I’m striving for). It’s been nice not having deadlines driving my life. (Highly recommend.)

As I mentioned, my sabbatical book project is on the spirituality of food and beverage. I’m weaving ancient stories with my story and the stories of my neighbors in the food and beverage industry here in Asheville. Everything from soil to ramps to wine — how we can meet God in ordinary, mundane things and most centered around the table. I think it’ll be called something like “Mystical Meals” or “Tasting God.” In essence, it’s an exploration of what it means to eat and drink to the glory of God (1 Cor. 10:31).

I’m also wrapping up edits on a book on “Theology and Hip-Hop” with my friend Claude Atcho. That should be done this month.

Other than that, I’m on staff at my church, Redeemer Anglican, where I teach a lot of our spiritual formation before church. One other thing we’re scheming about is an initiative to help artists who were affected and displaced by Hurricane Helene (which devastated our city). So I’m working with my priest and other members of our church to create a studio and gallery space to help support artists over the long haul.

QUESTION #5: BOOST

Cashiers, CEOs, contractors or customer service reps, we all need grace flowing into us and back out into the world. How does the Holy Spirit invigorate your work? And how do you know it’s God when it happens?

I think the Spirit works the most in my life in hidden ways — like the wind blowing. I can hear its sound, but I don’t know where it comes from or where it’s going. (I think someone said that once ...)

Most of my breakthroughs in writing and thought come through silence. I can write all day and feel like I’m stringing words together without much power or effect, but then I’ll go for a run or take a shower or be in the pickup line for my kids at school, and then all the effort coalesces into some insight or organizational pattern. I’ll think, Ah, that’s what I was trying to say. But it’s never in the act and almost never something I expected.

The other thing — and this may sound woo-woo and hippie-dippie, but it’s true — when I feel overly stressed or exhausted, like my mind is running and I can’t focus because I’m so overwhelmed, I lie down on the ground. Not cement or floor; it needs to be dirt. New Age people call it “grounding,” but I think if the human soul consists of dirt plus the breath of God, then there’s something fundamental about the ground. And it’s a return to the elemental foundation of my being, maybe. The same goes for attempts at gardening and growing food. These can be special invitations of the Spirit to meet me in creation.

QUESTION #6: inspire

Scripture and tradition beckon us into the rich and varied habits that open our hearts to the presence of God. So let us in. Which spiritual practice is working best for you in this season?

As mentioned in a previous answer, contemplative prayer has become a staple in my life with God. Typically, this looks like Morning Prayer in “The Book of Common Prayer” (as a good Anglican), and during the prayer time of the service, I’m practicing silence. Some, like Martin Laird, invite you to imagine yourself as a mountain. Your thoughts come in the form of clouds. They can pass by, but you’re not your thoughts. You’re the mountain. So let the thoughts pass by, knowing they are the weather. You can notice them, but you are not them.

I’ve begun to imagine myself more like a volcano. Thoughts, distractions and plans erupt out of my head, and I can let them go. I can get everything out — all my worries, fears, anxieties, goals. And then, when everything is out, I find God meets me in the still place. I am not my thoughts. I am beloved by God when I am empty. And in those silent places, attentive to God, I can begin to feel God’s love for me in my emptiness.

The other moment that makes me feel most spiritually alive is stewarding the Eucharist. Every week, people come to the altar to receive the grace of God — all of them sinners, some of whom have sinned against me. And every week, I have the privilege of extending forgiveness: “The body of Christ, broken for you.” How can I withhold forgiveness when I know God offers it so freely and graciously? It moves me every week.

QUESTION #7: FOCUS

Looking backward, considering the full sweep of your unique faith journey and all you encountered along the way, what top three resources stand out to you? What changed reality and your heart?

I love books. Recommending books is practically my love language. I know someone loves me when they say, “Have you read this? I think you’d love it.” They get me. So I’m tempted to do that by recommending works by Wendell Berry, Marilynne Robinson, Flannery O’Connor, Saint Augustine, Christian Wiman, Dorothy Day, etc. But I’m going to exercise some self-restraint. Books have formed me more than I can express, but if I’m honest, there are more foundational elements of my Christian life:

First, older mentors. They have kept me alive. I am most healthy when I have examples of faithfulness 10 years from now, 20 years from now and 40 years from now. What does a life with God look like with young kids, with teenagers, with college students, as an empty nester, as a widow? I’ve loved these relationships with older people. They keep me stable.

Second, the church. If you say you are a Christian and aren’t committed to a local church, I’m just not sure what you mean. Are people weird? Yes. Is it easy? No. Will you be hurt? Absolutely. But the local church is always where Jesus is. A healthy church taught me how to pray, to love Jesus, to read the Bible, to extend grace. The church is Jesus’ gift to us. Find a good one (not a perfect one) and cherish it.

Third — and I hate that it is this way — is suffering. The things I never want to go through again are the same things that shaped me most. I wish there were a different way, but I know, looking back on my life, that the moments God seemed furthest away were actually when he was closest.

We all have things we cling to to survive (or even thrive) in tough times like these. Name one thing you’re savoring and/or finding indispensable in this current season, and tell us what it’s doing for you.

My life tends to be disembodied. I do a lot of thinking. I like to think. The modern world encourages this type of intellectual knowledge. And I think that’s deeply destructive. We describe depressed or anxious people with things like, “They can’t get out of their head.” So I’m trying to get out into the big, beautiful world. And there are so many gifts to find. That’s one impetus for my sabbatical book project. I want to get into a world of things — gardening, baking, cooking.

That’s what I’m trying to do to combat the techno-hellscape we find ourselves in. I want to sit with human beings around good food and natural drink. I want to get my hands in the dirt to cultivate food that I can grow. I want to bake bread from a miller I know is sourced by a farm I can go to. It’s a small act of resistance — bigger is not always better, newer is not cooler, the cheap way is not the best, the easy way is not the most formative way. I want to learn to live in my embodied state — an unhurried, un-anxious way of life that cares about creating good things. At least, that’s what I’m trying.

QUESTION #8: dream

God’s continually stirring new things in each of us. So give us the scoop! What’s beginning to stir in you but not yet fully awakened? What can we expect from you in the future?

This is scary to put into the world. I don’t know how I’d manage the time, but here’s something I’ve been dreaming:

I recently visited Chattanooga to visit my son’s godfather, Sam. While there, he took us to this neighborhood market called Gaining Ground Grocery. They offer local and organic products at a cheaper price (because it’s a nonprofit and their goal isn’t first to make money but to help the community). So they have these amazing products — fresh produce, local goods, organic meat — at a cheaper price than what a conventional grocery store can sell them for. I’d love to offer something similar in Asheville.

It may just start in the church, but my dream is to see my church (and maybe other churches) develop an alternative economy. Every consumer choice is a moral choice. Shopping at Amazon or a big box store is a moral choice. Who is behind the products? How are they treated?

Of course, the barrier to good, healthy products is often price. But as a church, if we buy in bulk to support local farmers, if some maybe pay more so that some who can’t afford it can have access to it, then I think an alternative, resistant community can begin to emerge. And the world may look in and say, “What’s going on in there? They care about bodies along with souls. I want some of that.” I’d love to see the church lead the way in a healthy economy and healthy food renaissance.

Lord, hear my prayer!

Have you ever tried to solve a spiritual or emotional problem with a physical response? Alex’s example shared above — trying to fix a marriage issue with a hustle mentality — hit far too close for comfort. But there are other ways we might do the same thing, such as trying to quit emotional eating with mere physical discipline or trying to beat a pornography addiction simply by adding webpage blockers to our internet browser.

While helpful, none of those solutions by themselves can fix the real problem: our hearts.

Today, let’s ask ourselves, “What spiritual, emotional, or relational issues in my life have I been trying to fix with only physical solutions?” Then, let’s invite the Holy Spirit into those areas to ask him what our next step forward should be.

Alex Sosler is an associate professor of Bible and Ministry at Montreat College and an assisting priest at Redeemer Anglican Church in Asheville. He is the author of A Short Guide to Spiritual Formation and Learning to Love, as well as co-author of The Artistic Vision and editor of Theology and the Avett Brothers. He is also co-host of The Artistic Vision podcast.

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