1.
A GUIDE TO IGNATIAN PRACTICE
What sort of thing is spiritual direction? Is it a gift given from heaven, one that you may or may not possess? Is it something that comes with years of experience, something for wise old men and women? Or is it reserved for pastors, priests and religious? These examples all imply that spiritual accompaniment is something special, that some people have, and others do not. There is certainly such a thing as talent and aptitude. In biblical and theological language, we speak of spiritual gifts or so-called âcharismsâ that are given to individual believers to serve and build up the Church and the world. In the Roman Catholic Church that notion was dusted off by the Second Vatican Council (see especially Lumen Gentium, no. 12). Yet by opting for âa guide to Ignatian practiceâ, this book points to a different, more accessible vision of spiritual direction. Spiritual direction is regarded here first and foremost as a craft, a practical skill in the most positive sense.
This interpretation is good news in that a skill can be learned, at least to some extent. That is the purpose of this book. I will present six concrete tools, which together form a kind of program. Iâll give real examples in each chapter to show you how to use these tools. That means that the emphasis of this book is not on abstract reflections of a theological, spiritual, mystical or socio-psychological nature. A practical skill requires a practical approach, hence the subtitle âA Guide to Ignatian Practiceâ.
My focus is unique in the sense that while a great deal has been written about spiritual direction, seldom do these books provide concrete tools. This applies, for example, to the acclaimed classic by fellow Jesuits William Barry and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction.2 Although their book contains helpful examples drawn from experience, including several pieces of dialogue, the emphasis is on theoretical considerations. The book is certainly very much worth reading; with great insight and clarity, the authors introduce an Ignatian vision of accompaniment. That is why I will, in the following chapters, refer to this book several times. That said, Barry and Connollyâs book does not contain the concrete tools that the beginning spiritual director needs.
Also worth mentioning is the book for experienced spiritual directors written by the American Sister of Mercy Janet Ruffing, Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings.3 She discusses important topics based on lots of experience and pays more attention than most authors to affective themes. For example, she talks about the importance of desire, about the tendency to resist experiences of intimacy with God and about guiding people in experiences of love and bridal mystery. But this book also does not introduce concrete tools.
The series of books on Ignatian spirituality and spiritual direction published at the beginning of this millennium by the acclaimed American Oblate of the Virgin Mary Timothy Gallagher are another case in point.4 I admire Gallagherâs practical approach; he develops his reflection with lots of examples from history, literature, biography and cases of actual spiritual direction. Unfortunately, his chosen cases of spiritual direction often have a âhigh churchâ feel. This kind of scenario is typical: a woman tries to pray with the psalms and perseveres, despite distractions; then she comes across a verse that strongly appeals to her and assures her that God is with her in her struggles. While the example is comforting, it is my experience that God does not set entrance exams. It is my belief that God will concern himself with us even if we are not churchgoers, or pious or able to persevere; people with little faith practice may be touched by God very deeply. Moreover, this book does not discuss concrete tools either.
The Beginnerâs Guide that fellow Jesuit Richard Malloy published in 2017 may serve as a final example.5 As the title suggests, it is very accessible. Malloy makes abundant use of anecdotes, examples and experiences (perhaps even too many!) and is in places highly entertaining. Yet, these can make the book look like a collection of wisdom, with the effect that spiritual direction can seem to consist in providing wisdom appropriate to the circumstances. Ironically, this is exactly the opposite of Malloyâs vision of accompaniment, which is all about what is happening in the soul of the other person. My main objection, however, is that Malloy doesnât indicate what the spiritual director should actually do.
No Straitjacket
In short, I believe that there is a need in this field for something concrete and practical. The Art of Spiritual Direction: An Ignatian Guide to Practice is a useful addition to the existing body of literature on spiritual accompaniment. Nonetheless, it would be appropriate to make a few relativising remarks. A practical guide should not become a straitjacket. Similarly to the great dogmas of faith that are meant to point the way to the faith but are not themselves the faith, the tools presented in this book are meant to point the way, not to be stringently applied.
Moreover, while I unfold in this book how spiritual accompaniment works step-by-step, actual spiritual conversations rarely develop in a linear way. Additionally, tools are not the only necessity for effective spiritual direction; spiritual directors also need certain human qualities, life experiences and attitudes. Without personal warmth, self-confidence, affective freedom, familiarity with the spiritual realm and some experience of personal crises, the tools presented here are useless.6
Another important observation to put things into perspective is that this book promotes only one possible model of spiritual accompaniment. It is based on certain Christian convictions, which could be traded for other Christian convictions. My proposal is not the only door to accompaniment. Think for example of other spiritual families with a tradition of spiritual accompaniment, such as the Benedictines or Carmelites or, more recently, the charismatic family. Even within these traditions there exists a certain plurality; different practitioners accentuate different things. Moreover, in what follows I usually present a way of reacting that has proven helpful in my Ignatian practice, while in reality multiple reactions are often possible and correct. Sometimes I mention other possibilities, sometimes I donât. If I simplify, I do so for pedagogical reasons.
Target Audience
With these limitations, this book can be useful for those who are finding their feet in the art of spiritual direction. To learn, it is usually best to follow instructions for a while. Students of spiritual direction should not say too quickly that they have their own way of doing things; they should first learn the art. When I learned to ride a horse, it didnât make much sense to be stubborn and to persist in my way of doing things; after all, I was learning something I didnât know much about. If youâre baking an apple pie for the first time, itâs best simply to follow the recipe. After you learn the recipe, you can customise and follow your own ideas. You then do so âhinderedâ by knowledge and experience.
Yet, this book can also be useful for those who have experience and want to revisit or reconsider that experience. It can be a critical mirror confirming or questioning existing practice. It doesnât say how it should be done, but how it can be done. If you do certain things differently yourself, can you explain why you do so? And what is the advantage of your own approach?
Further, this book is useful for complicated cases, when you cannot rely on spontaneous intuition, for example in the case of people who are traumatised. This book offers you the basics, which you can then rely on in those instances. When I drove for the first time in England, that is, âon the wrong side of the roadâ, I returned to what my driving instructor had told me. âInside mirror â outside mirror â shoulderâ. Normally, you do these things spontaneously; in another context, you have to deliberately follow the procedure.
Affective Orthodoxy
Thus, this book aims above all to be a hands-on, practical guide that focuses on developing practical skills. Still, much is at stake in that seemingly simple agenda. This book thematises the neglected topic of interiority.
As far as the Roman Catholic Church is concerned, for example, much attention is paid to the content of faith. This often has a liturgical and moral expression: we tend to observe rules and regulations, sometimes down to the smallest details. Hopefully, there will also be attention to the life of faith, to Christian charity and âorthopraxisâ. In concrete terms, a Eucharistic celebration will not only make use of the correct liturgical texts or feature a proper sermon but will go hand-in-hand with a real commitment to our brothers and sisters. âShow me your faith through your deedsâ, as we read in Scripture.
But that is not enough. The Church should also pay attention to the soul and to interiority. After all, the Christian life is not only about doctrine and practice, but also about spirituality. What about the alternation in the soul between warm and cold, love and hate, mildness and hardness, devotion and faithfulness, and hopelessness and unbelief? What do these inner movements have to say? Which ones have to do with God, and which ones do not? How does one deal with this inner world? I feel that too little attention is paid to this realm of interiority, spirituality and the soul, and thatâs a shame.7
To put it plainly, one cannot be a Christian without paying heed to Godâs voice speaking inwardly. These last words are not my words; in Gaudium et Spes (the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World), one of the four constitutions that resulted from the Second Vatican Council, it is written that âConscience is the most intimate center and sanctuary of a person, in which he or she is alone with God whose voice echoes within themâ (GS, 16).8 It is not sufficient, therefore, to stick to the Churchâs doctrinal or moral teachings. Church leaders have the task âto form consciences, not to replace themâ, as Pope Francis declared in his encyclical Amoris Laetitia (The Joy of Love).9
In order to form consciences, it is necessary to know the movements in the soul, their multiplicity, their beauty and their deceptiveness. The Christian is inhabited and moved by spirits (figuratively speaking) of peace, joy, goodness, patience â the Holy Spirit. But equally moved by spirits of cold duty, angry frustration for the shortcomings of others, or cynicism (for example, cynicism about society, or the bishop, or other leaders). To return to the example of a Eucharistic celebration: it requires not only the right content, texts, and charity, but also the right inner movements and spirituality. I have the impression that the same applies to other Christian Churches.
Yet tragically, in ecclesiastical contexts, spirituality and interiority sometimes seem to be viewed as a threat. That fear may be caused by mottos such as âbelieving without belongingâ or âspirituality yes, Church noâ and the popularity of magazines and programs promoting superficial âfeel goodâ spirituality. In this book I do not consider the popularity of spirituality as a threat to the Churches, but as a critical mirror that compels us to question whether in our zeal for orthodoxy and orthopraxy, we may be forgetting something? Have we forgotten the soul, interiority, spirituality?
In short, the indirect agenda of this book is to put interiority on the agenda. I want to contribute to making more room in ecclesiastical life for what I call âaffective orthodoxyâ for lack of a better word.10 In a certain sense, this book goes with the flow of the popularity of spirituality, albeit, as we shall see, not uncritically. One of the key insights from and for the world of the soul and interiority is that anything can be deceptive; not everything that glitters is gold.
Promise
Finally, learning the craft of spiritual direction is hard work. But the worker deserves his wage; this book carries a promise. Those who accompany others well are rewarded â the Germans say âgiftedâ (beschenkt) â with the gift of being a witness of what they have helped to awaken: the inner experience of a God who loves each human person.
2. CORE VALUES
AN IGNATIAN PERSPECTIVE ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION
Let us suppose that you talk to Anne, a middle-aged Trappistine sister, whoâs going through a bit of a crisis.11 To her dismay, she sometimes thinks about leaving the monastery. Her abbess has sent her to you. Anne tells about her life as a Trappistine sister: about her fellow sisters, especially the abbess, with whom she has a good relationship, about her journey so far and about the current situation. Finally, she asks if you can help her. What would you do?
Now this example might feel alienating. You may have no clue about what a Trappist is, except that youâve heard of Trappist beer! Or maybe you wonder why we would work with such a negative example? For the purpose of the book, the details of the cases do not matter much. After each example, you should add âor something like thisâ. If that makes it more relevant or credible for you, change this case into a student who wants to change her major, a husband who falls in love with another woman, a banker with a midlife crisis, etc. Or just stay with Anne, the Trappistine sister.
Of course, ...