S3 A1 Assignment | Reflective Questions - Howard Thurman

What inspires you about Howard Thurman’s life and legacy?

I have long known of Howard Thurman. One of his books, “The Centering Moment”, has been an essential part of my spiritual library for decades. I am moved by the eloquence and depth of his writings. It was clear that he intimately knew that “still point” within himself and could awaken others by speaking the words that resonate with the still point in them. I am also struck by the strength of his humility. He understood the role he played in the work of transforming the world. His was a quiet leadership. One that functions like a physician come to heal the sick at heart. 

How can you incorporate “inner work” into your efforts for social change?

Through reflective reading and regular meditation. I struggle with prayer but believe it can be a powerful source of inner work. I think I should explore prayer and build it into my daily spiritual routine. I also think it would be good to work with a group. A community of fellow seekers who can keep me true and accompany me into the depths.

Deborah Anderson

What inspires me most about Howard Thurman is his deep trust that real change begins within. He reminds me that leadership is not only about what we do, but about who we are becoming. In a world that feels loud and reactive, his call to stillness and inner grounding feels both necessary and difficult.

Listening to Rhonda Magee speak about mindfulness and the inner work of racial justice deepened this for me. She names how easily we react out of habit, fear, or bias, and how intentional awareness can open space for a different response. That connects directly with Thurman’s insistence that we attend to the inner life—not as escape, but as preparation for faithful action.

In my own life and ministry, I am learning that inner work is essential to justice work. For me, this means creating space for prayer, reflection, and honest self-examination. It means noticing what is shaping me, and allowing God to work there first. Thurman—and Magee—both remind me that when we do this inner work, our outward actions can become more grounded, more compassionate, and more true.

Leonard Bailey 

Reflective Questions - Howard Thurman

4/17/26

Ok, so what really stands out to me about Howard Thurman is how he moved different from what we usually expect from leaders. He wasn’t out there leading marches or trying to be the face of everything, but his impact was still real. What inspires me is that he understood that if people don’t change on the inside, then whatever we try to fix on the outside won’t really last. That hit me, because a lot of times we focus on calling things out, but not enough on checking ourselves.

I also respect how solid he was in who he was. Growing up in Jim Crow and still having that sense of dignity and self-worth, I'm sure that wasn’t easy. That part especially resonates with me, because the world will try to define you quickly. Thurman didn’t let that happen. He stayed grounded, and you can see how that shaped everything he did.

The “inner work” part is where this gets real for me. I think it means being honest about myself, my mindset, my reactions, even my ego. If I’m trying to be about change, I can’t be carrying stuff that just recreates the same problems. It’s about being intentional with how I show up, not just reacting to everything.

It also means slowing down. Thurman was big on reflection, prayer, just being still, and honestly, we don’t do that enough. Everything is fast now, but real clarity comes when you actually sit with things and think deeper.

Inner work is what keeps you from burning out. If you’re always fighting externally and not taking care of yourself internally, you’re not gonna last. So for me, it’s about staying grounded, staying connected to God, and making sure I’m moving with purpose,not just emotion. Because real change starts from within first.

What inspires me most is that he answered the call on his life – and he kept answering it, no matter what stood in the way. He did not move toward his work because the conditions were favorable, because they never were. He was born into Jim Crow Florida, rejected by seminaries for being Black, widowed young, and challenged by a Sri Lankan lawyer who called him a traitor to his people. He was dismissed by critics who wanted a Moses and got a mystic instead. Not one of those things stopped him, each became a step in the direction he was already moving.

What Thurman understood, and what I find most useful as a practitioner, is that the call precedes the strategy. He did not plan his way to the Church of the Fellowship of All Peoples. He stayed ready and did the inner work, and recognized the invitation when it arrived. That is a different mode of leadership than the one most institutions train us toward.

His belief that spirit unifies across every human difference also stays with me. When he spoke with leaders in Saskatchewan without a translator and they understood him anyway, that was not a miracle but a knowing. That experience was evidence of a life spent cultivating presence at the deepest level. He earnestly believed you could meet another human being in a place beneath language, beneath culture, and beneath every category that divides.

Thurman did not build a movement, he built a person (himself) with such integrity and clarity that others found their own footing by standing near him. That is the kind of leadership that lasts beyond a lifetime.

For me, the inner work is not separate from the work of social change, it is preparation for it. It is important to do the inner work if there is an expectation to be of service to others. As Thurman stated, the work is about knowing your own center.  Knowing and moving from that space at all times. For me the inner work is also about protecting practices that keep me grounded and centered. The silent contemplation, reflection, and reading, prayer, and movement- these are not personal indulgences but  what makes the work I am called to do sustainable.

The question Thurman kept returning to is the same for all what is my call, and am I still moving toward it? When the answer is, yes the obstacles are manageable.

When I think about Howard Thurman, the virtue that stands out to me most is inner work. For me, inner work is about being intentional with what is happening internally before responding externally. It is the practice of slowing down, reflecting, and becoming aware of what is shaping my thoughts, emotions, and decisions. What I take from Thurman is that leadership is not only about what we do, but about who we are becoming. That kind of formation requires attention, discipline, and honesty with ourselves.

Thurman models this through his commitment to stillness, reflection, and engaging difficult truths about race and human dignity. He did not avoid hard conversations, but he approached them in a way that invited deeper thinking rather than reaction. His leadership was steady and rooted in conviction. He believed that transformation begins within, and that inner life shapes how we act in the world. That approach allowed him to create space for meaningful engagement, even in situations where tension and disagreement were present.¹

In my own life, inner work shows up most clearly in my relationships and in my ministry. I serve as a maternal figure to several young adults who come to me for guidance and support. There are times when I have to correct, set boundaries, or speak hard truths. In those moments, I have to pause and check where I am coming from. Am I responding from care, or reacting from frustration? That is not always easy, especially when something needs to be addressed quickly. But I have learned that when I take even a moment to center myself, I show up differently. My words are clearer, my tone is more grounded, and my intention is more aligned with the kind of leader I want to be.

When I ask myself what I would do in Thurman’s situation today, I find myself holding a tension. I understand the importance of inner grounding, but I also recognize that there are moments when action cannot wait. In situations where harm is happening in real time, I would still step in. I would still speak. But I would try to do so from as grounded a place as possible, even if that grounding is not perfect.

What stood out to me from class is the idea that leadership is not just about action, but about transformation first. Thurman’s approach shows that inner work is not optional. It is the foundation that shapes how we engage in social change. I also heard clearly that leadership is not about technical skills, but about truth telling and authenticity from within, which challenges me to stay honest about my own motivations. As I continue to grow, I am learning that my effectiveness in ministry is directly connected to how deeply I am willing to do that internal work before stepping into action.

What I am learning is that inner work does not mean delaying action. It means bringing a level of awareness and intention into action. That is the kind of leadership I am continuing to grow into, one that holds both reflection and responsibility at the same time.²

Citations

Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited (Boston: Beacon Press, 1976); Transformative Leadership Week 3 Lecture Materials.

Transformative Leadership Class Discussion, April 11, 2026, emphasis on applying historical figures to personal leadership context.

M. Cross

Transformative Leadership

Dr. Leonard McMahon

Lesson 3, Assignment 1

Reflective Question

I am embarrassed to admit I had no knowledge of Howard Thurman prior to the lesson.  Nevertheless, what I read of him has been very impactful.  I was so impressed, I immediately purchase a copy of his book, “Jesus Disinhereted”.

The inspiration I gained from reading Howard Thurman’s story was personal.  I am encouraged to know I don’t have to feel ineffective because I’m not on the front lines of a cause but I can have an inspirational, pivotal, motivational, and powerful affect wherever I am.  If I am aware enough to use my sphere of influence, though I may never see the result, I can be assured my life and words can and will leave a worldwide effect.

Dr. Thurman’s range and scope of influence was by no means minimal, he took the advantage of his life’s positions and status to pour into and ignite what may have lain dormant in his audiences.  He was not only concerned with the cause but he promoted the health of the cause leaders.

Regarding Dr. Thurman’s “inner work” and incorporating it into my efforts for social change, his theory was unusual.  During his era, it seems the idea was to get the job done ignoring the health of self.  It is very limiting to a person’s success if attention to physical, mental, and psychological health is not noted and addressed.  My mind keeps going to the scripture, “physician, heal thyself.”  Without inner work, not only is outer work limited and may not be achieved, at the very least, the work cannot continue to its fullest potential and purpose.

We must give ourselves and those with whom we’re in community permission to take time for and care of ourselves.  The health and success of the mission depends on it.

I may not be on the front line, but I’m more motivated than ever to be an influencer for change. 

Another aspect of Thurman’s legacy that inspires me is his emphasis on the inner life of those who are marginalized. He understood that oppression does not only affect external conditions, but also impacts how people see themselves. His work encouraged individuals to reclaim their sense of worth and identity, even in systems designed to diminish them. That perspective is powerful because it shifts the focus from simply resisting oppression to also restoring the human spirit. It challenges me to think about social change not just in terms of systems, but in terms of people—how they heal, grow, and sustain themselves within the struggle.

He saw his monastic life itself as a form of witness. By choosing simplicity, silence, and separation from systems of power and consumption, he was making a quiet critique of modern society. His life suggested that constant activity and visibility are not the only ways to contribute meaningfully to the world. Instead, he demonstrated that stillness can produce insight, and insight can guide action in more grounded and thoughtful ways. His withdrawal was not rejection of the world, but a different way of relating to it—one that refused to be shaped by urgency alone.

In considering Howard Thurman’s life, we talked about so many incredible aspects of what allowed him to become the important teacher, friend, and mystic that he was—or still is if we understand the mystic as one who has touched oneness itself. I deeply admire his strong sense of self-esteem and the role that his grandmother played in cultivating self-worth by reminding him of the story from her own childhood of the enslaved minister denying the enslaved children’s lack of humanity and affirming their status as “children of God.”

While the circumstances of our upbringing were very different, my own paternal grandmother, Nannie, affirmed my belovedness all throughout my childhood and into adulthood. Even though the church and even my parents described me as “an abomination,” Nannie and Papaw always showed me love and respect. Struggling with depression and suicide ideation throughout most of my life, I know that without that deep and nurturing love, I would not be who I am today without them.

Now that I am older and see things differently, I can recognize the heartfelt commitment and steadfast silence that Nannie embodied in her own spiritual practice. She never aspired to be a teacher or to “fix” other people. She read her bible every day, and was able to listen to and witness people down to their bones. The last time I visited her, while we were sitting on her front porch in the humid southern Appalachian summer, she told me stories about family members and neighbors who struggled with addiction and their mental health: “CJ, you don’t have to understand everyone, but you gotta love ‘em. That’s what Jesus taught me.” Both my parents are Pentecostal ministers who preach with fiery conviction, but my own approach to ministry lies in finding stillness, looking closely, and sharing what reveals itself to me. In this way, I relate deeply to Thurman’s pretext to the first chapter “The Inward Sea” in Meditations of the Heart:

There is in every person an inward sea, and in that sea, there is an island and on that island there is an altar and standing guard before that altar is the “angel with the flaming sword.” Nothing can get by that angel to be placed upon that altar unless it has the mark of your inner authority. Nothing passes “the angel with the flaming sword” to be placed upon your altar unless it be a part of “the fluid area of your consent.” This is your crucial link with the Eternal.

On top of all this, I believe that I have felt something of the mystical experience both on my own and in friendship with Dorsey Blake over the past decade. I wish I had expressed my deep appreciation for that friendship and spiritual mentorship during his time as a physical being in this world, but I also hold the sense that he knows just how much he meant to me.

Thurman has so many virtues that inspire me but the one that rises to the top is his honesty – to himself, to his people, and to his cause. His honesty is what allows him to tap into his great wisdom and share that wisdom with others. And though he expresses his honesty in many ways, what touches me most deeply is how honest he is with himself, and how he accesses that through deep stillness and inner contemplation.

There is a lot that I take personally from this introduction to Thurman, and I will be tapping into his writings in more depth going forward. First, I have never thought of myself as a leader – I am an introvert, I am quiet, I don’t react so much as respond, and these are not seen as leadership qualities. And for most of my life I have thought of these characteristics as personality defects, a belief that has been reinforced by my family, and honestly society in general. I found great solace in the words of a spiritual advisor who reminded me that there are many ways to participate in a movement. That the women in the kitchen making food for the marchers during the Civil Rights movement were just as important as those out on the front lines. And Thurman tells this same story.

I appreciate Thurman’s call to quiet, internal work. I feel that is where I am currently, seeking, listening, finding my way. And it builds my confidence to know that I am on a valid path. I’m not sure how my leadership will evolve, but I feel as though I have a good guide for this part of the journey in Thurman.

The most inspiring parts of Howard Thurman life and legacy, to me, are his deep trust in the inner life, his ability to lead from the back, and his unshakable belief in the unity of all being.

Thurman’s comfort with, and need for, introspection and a calm mind gave him strength and certainty. His life spanned so much more than his 82 years. It spanned cultures, races, geographies, and passed through tumultuous times of accelerating social change. The materials we read and the conversations we had in our class session gave me new insight into Howard Thurman. I have a bad habit of thinking I know about a well-known person based on popular knowledge or their oft-quoted words. I have just enough “get-by-knowledge” to stay non-curious. Mistake!

I resonate with Thurman’s sense that social transformation begins in the soul – the idea that social activism and spirituality are interdependent. Because of his skill of understanding himself, he responded to his authentic calling without the need for external validation. He was aligned with what in his bones he knew to be true. And it strengthened him throughout his life. He never wavered.

Thurman didn’t seek nor did he need to be in the spotlight. He was influenced by his meeting with Gandhi and Gandhi was also influence by Thurman. They each were guided by a deep inner voice. His work had an impact on the non-violent protest movement during the Civil Rights era, but we rarely hear his name associated with King, Abernathy, Jackson, or Farmer. Like his inner life, he lived inside the movement. Yet he served on the boards of CORE, NAACP, and the Fellowship of Reconciliation.

Thurman believed in the unity of all being. That doesn’t translate into headlines. Instead, he put his belief to work in other ways. The Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples embodied Thurman’s principles of unity and community, including communion between people, nature, and animals.

Incorporating “inner work” in my work for social change is my natural at-rest mode. My inner life is the well-spring of my artwork, teaching, and, in many ways, being. The downside - or maybe the upside - is the struggle I have with doing things that don’t emerge from or align with my introspective way of being in the world.

It might be easier to have a more porous filter.  Maybe the introspection sets the bar too high. Alas, I don’t know how to do that. So, I go along working from the inside out. Sometimes it makes my head hurt.

Leonard Bailey

Transformative leadership

Reflective Questions - Thomas Merton

4/24/26

Merton is interesting because he flips what we usually think about contemplation. You would assume living in a monastery means you’re disconnected from the world, but for him it actually made him more aware of it. Interesting, right? Because he stepped away from the noise, he was able to see things like racism, war, and injustice more clearly than people who were caught up in it every day.

His inner life gave him clarity and courage. That moment he had in Louisville, where he realized he was deeply connected to all those strangers, really shows that. He started to see people as special…sacred, not just strangers or random faces. And once you see people that way, It’s hard to ignore the struggles of others.

So even though he was physically separated, he wasn’t spiritually disconnected. He understood that silence doesn’t mean you get to stay neutral. That’s why he spoke out on civil rights, war, and injustice. For him, those were spiritual issues too.

What I take from Merton is that contemplation isn’t about escaping the world, it’s about preparing yourself to face it better. If your inner life is real, it should lead to compassion. And if that compassion is real, it should lead to action.

Amanda Weaver

In many ways, Howard Thurman’s story resonates with me because it more closely aligns with my comfort level in leadership (and often in life). I’ve built my career around being the behind-the-scenes support that lets others step forward and lead without worrying about the nitty gritty details. For some reason, this translates into people thinking that I must just be waiting my turn for the microphone. While I certainly don’t aspire to being either as a Moses or a mystic, I feel some of the frustration from my congregation about their dreams for me echoed in the quote, “We were sure that he had the makings of a Moses and then he turned mystic on us,” (Raboteau, p.109). I appreciate the alternate portrayal of leadership.

Thurman’s insistence on the importance of inner work seems to be unique for his time, or perhaps just for our remembrance of it. The fact that it is remembered speaks to how far his influence reached and the many lives he touched; the introspective mentor is often lost to the flashier history of the up on the pedestal protégé. The idea that doing the inner work – being introspective, taking the time to really notice the world around you, focusing on connections – makes you a better leader is appealing. In my mind, it is one of the abilities that separates a good leader from a bad leader. The inner work is what allows a leader to step back and make sure that what they are doing is still true to their values. It provides a check in a world that places more value on personal aggrandizement than it does on altruism and activism.

What inspires me most about Howard Thurman's life and legacy is his deep commitment to the idea that lasting social change begins within the individual. He did not approach justice work as something purely external or political, but as something rooted in spiritual and moral discipline.

Thurman believed that without inner clarity, people risk acting out of fear, anger, or confusion rather than purpose. His influence on the Civil Rights Movement shows that this inward grounding was not passive-it was powerful. He helped shape a vision of leadership that was steady, reflective, and rooted in dignity, even in the face of injustice. What stands out is his ability to remain centered and intentional, offering a model of strength that is not reactive, but deeply anchored.

Transformative Leadership - Week 3 - Reflective Questions - Ogundipe

1. What inspires you about Howard Thurman’s life and legacy?
2. How can you incorporate “inner work” into your efforts for social change?

1

There is so much about Thurman’s life and legacy to find inspiration in. I think that what moves me the most about Thurman’s life is his focus on inclusivity. I think that this is why Thurman was such a revered figure by Civil Rights leaders AND why Thurman is less popular. It is not only that Thurman made the decision not to be a “movement person”, but that he adamantly refused to conceive of any category of human as being omitted from the grace of God. Beyond the class material, I listened to Thurman’s “Love or Perish”, a sermon that further elucidates Thurman’s highly inclusive, yet uncompromising approach.

2

I think that through the notion of “inner work” Thurman gave voice to something that is central to any ministry work, one's own connection to the divine as a foundation of any ministry work that they do. In the absence of this, one is at great risk. Inner work is the basis of all that we do.