Part of my spiritual direction formation course involves writing a reflection piece on the reading we do. Here’s my most recent one…
Much of my reflection in the past couple of months has been centred around my fitness for the calling to spiritual direction. While I mused on the concept of the spiritual director as icon, I became aware that, for some within the Church, I am not capable of standing with another and representing Christ, because my meaning as a gay man is of something quite different. I ‘mean’ and am ‘read as’ a representation of brokenness, disorder, disobedience and perhaps even depravity. Again, my age leads to a feeling of dissonance within me – I am aware of a certain degree of presumptuousness in my exploration of this role, when I am younger than the majority of the demographic of most Anglican churches, when I am certainly neither a geronta, nor worthy to be called ‘abba’. Against each of these difficulties is the notion, brought out by a number of the readings (Ware, Jones, and Edwards particularly), that God calls the spiritual director and the validation of this call is that others seek out direction from them (Ware 130).
In Ware’s description of the spiritual director, the geronta is one who is charismatic, prepared through deep relationship with God, and gifted, operating in a master/disciple relationship (Edwards 98). Ware notes that this model of spiritual director has been historically very rare in the Church, and is perhaps even less common now I was particularly taken by Ware’s observation: “[Spiritual guides] … are an expression of the Church as ‘event’ or ‘happening’ rather than the Church as institution” (Ware 128). When linked to the concept of director as icon, this reminds me that the Church of God is not merely institution and form, but is in reality a mystical body made for Christ (Williams 116). Ware notes that both the institutional form of Church and this charismatic form are necessary and beneficial for the health of the people of God. Following on from this is the thought that God makes provision for the needs of God’s children through the calling of spiritual directors, prepared in the manner in which God sees fit. Edwards (96) notes that:
From a contemplative standpoint, what is most important is not the knowledge and strengths we bring so much as our willingness to be very simply present to God for the directee, with a mind of “unknowing”, spacious and available for we don’t know what, yet trusting God to show us whatever we need to see.
Yet, who we are is certainly important in the relationship, because, as Jones (89) notes, our gifts and experiences are things that God can use to the benefit of the directee. My experience as a gay man, with exclusion, unfulfilled vocation, being a social outsider, as well as my experience with severe illness (and so on), allows me to be a gift to the directee who shares something of these experiences, or whose experience allows me to empathise with them. God’s call to me may be, through prayer, silence and holy living, to take these experiences, this truth about my being, and show God’s love, acceptance and healing through my care for the directee (Ware 133).
I’m aware, as I write and reflect, that I have typically approached spiritual direction from the standpoint of the social scientist (specifically a sociologist) and health professional. As I reflect on the sentences above I note, in places, the creation of a discourse influenced by Marxist and feminist perspectives. I’m used to, and have a natural tendency towards, a model of spiritual direction which is similar to that described by Edwards (99) as ‘counselling-inspired spiritual direction.’ I cannot help wondering if, in some senses, this therapeutic inspired model is a means of the Church seeking to domesticate and institutionalise the spiritual director. She then runs the risk of failing to be truly prophetic.
I approached Martin Thornton’s extracts with some trepidation. I first read one of Thornton’s books, Christian Proficiency, when I was 18. I took from it a strong sense of the need to be ordered and orderly when pursuing the spiritual life. I also got a sense of practicality, but dryness – a sort of Christian experience by the numbers. For me, the notion of a proficient Christian is a little sad. I know that Thornton’s approach is to suggest a framework in which the Spirit may work, but I found it a little numbing. I found a similar sort of approach in these extracts. I wouldn’t presume to critique his approach, and I may miss the point, but I wonder whether the dichotomous model he suggests is helpful. A directee is either A, or B. If not A, then do not do C. I can visualise a flow chart depicting the discussion!
As I continue to reflect on these readings, on my own experience of spiritual direction, and on the movements of God within me, I realise that God can use who I am in whatever way God wishes, and that though I’m imperfect and in some senses ‘spoilt’, I am capable of being a vessel of God’s grace and healing for others. Provided that I allow God to work, and realise that this is God’s work and not mine, I can be the right person for those God draws into relationship with me: “In a word, he is only God’s usher, and must lead souls in God’s way, and not his own.”(qtd in Ware 146)
Works Cited
Edwards, Tilden. Spiritual Director, Spiritual Companion. New York: Paulist Press, 2001.
Jones, Alan. Exploring Spiritual Direction. Cambridge: Cowley Publications, 1999.
Thornton, Martin. Spiritual Direction. London: SPCK, 1984.
Ware, Kallistos.The Inner Kingdom: Volume 1 of the Collected Works. New York: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2001.
Williams, Rowan. “The deflections of desire: negative theology in Trinitarian disclosure” in O Davies and D Turner (eds) Silence and the Word: Negative Theology and Incarnation. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002.
