When I think about a life of integrated service, this quote from the Bahá'í Writings comes to mind:

All effort and exertion put forth by man from the fullness of his heart is worship, if it is prompted by the highest motives and the will to do service to humanity. — 'Abdu'l-Bahá

That quote speaks to labor specifically — work as worship. But the broader point applies to any act: the spirit in which we do a thing has an influence. Enough to dictate whether an act is sacred or profane.

Service in the spirit of malice would be hollow — corrupted at its root. How we feel about doing a thing may be just as important as the act itself.

This idea isn't new. Luther's 95 Theses come to mind — his protest against indulgences and the notion that mechanical acts, divorced from inner transformation, could secure salvation. At the heart of his theology was sola fide — salvation by faith alone, not by the accumulation of deeds or dollars. The external act without inner conviction was, to Luther, spiritually empty.

But I'd push back slightly: Luther's emphasis on faith over works can swing too far in the other direction. Act and spirit must harmonize into a spiritual endeavor. One cannot be devoid of the other. They shape the sacredness of each other.

The best of intentions is not always enough to negate a neglectful or harmful act; the most virtuous act may be poisoned by a resentful spirit.

And yet — in the spirit of becoming — we may not always be able to do the most virtuous act or come at life with a joyful spirit. If we are not there, if we are not capable in a given moment, that is okay. Perhaps showing up as the best version of yourself in that moment is enough to alchemize a spiritual act. The spiritual act is not measured externally but relative to the one who performs it. Your spiritual act may look different than someone else's in magnitude or impact, but perhaps it's weighed equally by whatever spiritual judge exists. Different capacities, different strides — no one better or worse than the other.

The takeaway here isn't to debate whose acts are good versus another's. It's simpler than that: our intent matters. Our action matters. Measuring them against others doesn't — but measuring them against our own capacity does. That's what allows us to grow into the next spiritual act.

The transmutation happens not in the act itself, but in the gap between what we were capable of and what we chose to do.