Leading from a Deeper Place

How can contemplation become a compass in times of chaos? Learn how Margaret Benefiel of Shalem Institute turned righteous anger and burnout into a sustained commitment to contemplative leadership — guiding others to stay grounded, present, and purposeful amid a world in turmoil. 

Margaret Benefiel learned early on about the anger that often accompanies those working in ministry. It was the late 1970s. Benefiel was working for an evangelical campus ministry in Southern Oregon when female college students confided in her that they were being sexually harassed and abused by a pastoral counselor at a church, which many students involved in the campus fellowship group attended.  

Benefiel spoke up. The church elders, all older men, ignored her, a young woman fresh out of college. The head pastor dismissed the allegations and said the counselor had unusual but effective methods. He even reported her to her ministry supervisor as “uncommitted to the church.”  

Burnt out, exhausted, and disgusted by the hypocrisy, she began to question her worth. “Who will hire me for anything?” she thought, spiraling into self-doubt and depression. Then she had an idea: She would pivot from ministry altogether and teach math. Teaching and helping others pieced her sense of self back together. But as she found contentment again, a strange thought began to consume her: I would much rather be teaching the Bible than math.  

She remembered an experience she had years before. Evangelicalism, with all its flaws, had also introduced Benefiel to what she would now describe as contemplative prayer. When she had first joined the college ministry, one of the spiritual practices on a staff retreat was for each person to spend three hours of silent solitude in the woods. Not reading. Not studying. Just being silent with God. “That was a remarkable experience for me,” Benefiel shares, “just simply being open to feeling God’s love and presence.” 

In Portland, Benefiel decided to get involved with the Quakers, whose silent worship resonated with her growing hunger for contemplative Christianity. She stumbled upon the book Celebration of Discipline by Quaker theologian Richard Foster and began meeting with a spiritual director who introduced her to the University of San Francisco’s spirituality program. There, a professor told her about a Washington D.C.-based ecumenical organization called Shalem, founded by Tilden Edwards, an Episcopal priest who had studied with a Zen master to deepen his Christian faith.  

In 1984, during a spring break visit to D.C., Benefiel decided to check out this “Shalem” her professor had recommended and attended a workshop. A car ride from DC to Baltimore with Tilden and another Shalem leader, Gerald May, sealed her intrigue with the organization. Their friendship, depth of conversation, and lighthearted banter convinced her: “If this is what Shalem is like, I want to be part of it.”  

Little did she know she would one day be Shalem’s executive director.     

She pursued a PhD in spirituality at Catholic University, taught at seminaries, and ran her own business, Executive Soul, helping leaders integrate contemplative leadership in the workplace. But in 2015, when Shalem’s executive director position opened, she felt led to apply. Soon after, she was named executive director.  

“The mission has stayed the same, but the manifestation of it has changed,” Benefiel shares, referencing our current age of chaos and division. “Our mission is to nurture contemplative living and leadership. And so that contemplative living and leadership looks different at different times and places.” 

She couldn’t have fathomed the national turmoil that would ensue the first decade of her tenure: the rise of Donald Trump and American populism, a global pandemic, the murder of George Floyd and a racial reckoning, increasing political violence, and creeping authoritarianism. “What does it mean to be a contemplative who is staying grounded in the midst of the storm and discerning right action in the midst of it?” Benefiel says. “I think that’s a challenge we’re navigating right now.” 

In many ways, Benefiel’s journey has come full circle. The contemplative prayer that gripped her heart in her evangelical days of campus ministry now shapes the numerous programs she oversees at Shalem. Righteous anger once consumed her and led to ministry burnout, but she now seeks to bridge contemplation and action in the chaos.  

“Anger is an important signal that something is wrong, whether it’s a personal violation or whether it is systemic,” Benefiel reflects, “and I’ve had to learn over the years to channel it in good ways and to recognize it… There’s such power in feeling things deeply and letting those feelings move through you and connecting with God in those feelings. It allows us to be our full selves. And then God can channel that power in whatever way God wants to.” 

Reflect with Us  
Margaret Benefiel’s story reminds us that contemplation is not an escape from the world’s turmoil, but a way of seeing clearly within it. When we allow stillness to meet our strongest emotions — anger, exhaustion, grief — they can become pathways to clarity and compassionate action. Contemplation grounds us in God’s presence so that our responses arise not from reactivity, but from love. 

How might contemplation help you stay grounded and guided amid the storms of your own life? 
Share your reflection with us.  

We Conspire is a series from the Center for Action and Contemplation featuring wisdom and stories from the growing Christian contemplative movement. Sign up for the monthly email series and receive a free invitation to practice each month.