Into the castle and up the mountain
I have to admit to a certain sense of unease when presented with ‘schemes’ seeking to describe the spiritual life. Partly this comes from interactions with a past director who was very keen on telling me that I was lurking in the courtyard of Teresa’s Interior Castle, with the toads and reptiles (and in deference to Christina, the spiders). Partly it comes from a particular contemporary reluctance to label spiritual progress. And partly it comes from a sense of unease about the mystical (Williams 97).
When Christina spoke about this reluctance to talk about progress I was challenged. My work with those I currently direct has tended to skirt around the issue of ‘progress’ – either up, down, in, out or in whatever direction. I suspect this comes partly from my training as an educator – one is supposed to be endlessly encouraging of attempts and recognise the individual worth and journey of each learner. And, I admit, I don’t want my progress to be labelled, particularly. However, my reflections over the past months have led me to feel that my reluctance to speak the word to those I direct, and to hear the word my director offers, does little to assist those I direct or myself. Instead of pointing the way, and using the resources in the tradition as a road-map (recognising that a map isn’t the real thing, but is a useful guide to it), I have tended to be too warm and cuddly, even when prompted by God to be clearer and more direct – Green notes this tendency, and calls it for what it is: poor direction (33).
In fact, as I read more of Teresa and John of the Cross, I see that God has given them as a great gift to those called to direct and those called to form directors. They provide helpful and objective diagnostic criteria, to use medical metaphors I’m comfortable with, and to continue the meditation on the helpful idea of the spiritual midwife from last year. John of the Cross reminds me of the need to seek a wise guide and trust them – “Sometimes they misunderstand themselves and are without suitable and alert directors who will show them the way to the summit” (Ascent 3).
It is around 10 years since I last read New Seeds of Contemplation, and Merton’s writing reminds me of my own journey. My experience has certainly been of ‘long and patient trial and slow progress in the darkness of pure faith’ (233-234), and there have been times when the wilderness seems appalling (235) and seemingly free of the presence of God. Since a pivotal event in 2001, when what I had accepted as certain in the world was changed in a moment (Williams 96), I have walked on a path which has been difficult both in my life circumstances and challenging in my faith. My certainty of the presence of God was also taken away – it was through the support of my spiritual director and reading from the spiritual fathers and mothers that I was able to walk forward, up the mountain, or as Merton describes ‘farther and farther on into the wasteland,’ (237) which is where I find myself – feeling alone and beset by temptations (Keating 71).
Of late I’ve found myself wondering if I might not have reached this place sooner had I not reacted against the abusive experience with one spiritual director by walking away from church and God for a time. Bede Griffiths struggles during his youth, in response to God’s calling ‘heard in the silence of prayer’ (Trapnell 43) are something that I can relate to in part. I did respond to God’s call through prayer, fasting, service, silence, wrestling with the difference between the world’s demands and God’s invitation but then found that the cost of continuing along that road with my director too great, as his abusive behaviour escalated. I do believe that God’s offering at that time was ‘out’, but perhaps the way ‘out’ I chose was my own rather than God’s – perhaps I avoided a moment of Gethsemane (Williams 98). The reading from Keating describes a move towards freedom from the false self (67). This is certainly my own experience. Through a range of traumas and troubles I experienced a gradual ‘unravelling’ of some of the masks and boundaries which surrounded me, and kept me from God and others – self-knowledge came, at a price and with not a little pain. It continues to come, and I am often confronted by how wounded I am, and how these wounds affect my life with God and with others. Paradoxically, the fact that ‘the muck’ is known and acknowledged brings a great deal of freedom and a capacity to move forwards (Keating 68, 73).
As well as a deeper self-understanding, I believe that my understanding of God has been purified by the death of an unhealthy esteem of the institution instead of a pure love for God. Rowan Williams’ insights about this also ring true – to a large extent my ‘God’ was a projection and wish-fulfillment (95), and as Ron Rolheiser describes in Seeking Spirituality – there is a need for a certain idea of God and of the church to die.
As I walked through this period with my directors I found a way back to the church, and discovered that while I may have stopped paying attention to God, I had never strayed very far away (Green 34). Having a wise, insightful and tenacious director was important then (as it is now), to see that which I’m either unable or unwilling to see (Green 36). Having a wise guide also enabled me to continue to choose to seek God rather than mysticism (Williams 97, John of the Cross, Living Flame 30).
As I read the excerpt from The Living Flame of Love I’m reminded of the awesome responsibility of the director. The directee entrusts themselves to the director (in a way similar to a dance, as Phillips describes [21]) and seeks something – perhaps not knowing what, except that they are called to be there in that moment. As I continue to make this walk in trust and faith – not knowing where it will go – I know I’m called to be here in this moment, and to listen to God and experience the way of learning in this period of formation. Through it God continues to change me.
Works cited
Green, T. “The First Blind Guide: John of the Cross and Spiritual Direction” in Presence 9:1, 2003.
John of the Cross. Ascent of Mt Carmel in The Collected Works of John of the Cross. Tr Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez. Institute of Carmelite Studies: Washington, 1973.
__________. The Living Flame of Love in The Collected Works of John of the Cross. Tr Kieran Kavanaugh and Otilio Rodriguez. Institute of Carmelite Studies: Washington, 1973.
Keating, T. Invitation to Love. Continuum: NY, 2001.
Merton, T. New Seeds of Contemplation. New Directions: NY, 1972.
Phillips, S. Candlelight: Illuminating the Art of Spiritual Direction. Morehouse: NY, 2008.
Rolheiser, R. Seeking Spirituality. Hodder and Stoughton: London, 1998.
Trapnell, J. Bede Griffiths. A Life in Dialogue. State U of NY P: NY, 2001.
Williams, R. Open to Judgement: Sermons and Addresses. Darton, Longman and Todd: London, 1994.
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