Copyright: The Rev. Dick Poole of the Claret Centre in Chicago gave this presentation to the Milwaukee gathering of Via de Cristo in July, 1998. This presentation is reproduced on the Lift Up Your Hearts web site http://www.worship.ca/ with the permission of the author.

Pneuma is a journal on spiritual direction and formation in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada.

This past Sunday, the Seventh Sunday After Pentecost, we had an excellent example of spiritual companioning. Jesus lives in the story as the teacher, with Mary and the others as his students or disciples. But the really interesting thing for us in this essay is how Jesus companioned Martha, companioning her in her frustration, her worry, her distraction, and her inability to discern "the better part."

Some Distinctions

I am supposed to be talking about spiritual direction and spiritual directors, but you may have noted that I have been using the terms "spiritual companioning" and "spiritual companion." First, I want to make some distinctions that might be helpful. Traditionally, the process has been named "spiritual direction," the practitioner the "spiritual director," and the recipient of the direction has been called the "directee." Presently I continue to speak of the process itself as "spiritual direction" because I understand this process as one of discerning the direction in which we are being called or invited. However, I do not refer to myself (as the practitioner) as the "director" for I understand (with Thomas Merton and most others) that the true director is the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the risen Jesus, the anointed one of God. The person engaged in this process of discernment I speak of as the "directee." So I would say that a person, i.e. the directee, sits with someone who companions her in a process of discerning the direction in which the Spirit is inviting her. I avoid using the title "director" for myself because that title often connotes for folks an advice-giver and spiritual problem-solver, one who knows the way and is trained to tell me the way. If there are indeed those persons who are so gifted, I know myself not to be numbered among them. My gifts as a companion with others include the gifts of hospitality, engagement, care, space, safety, along with a life of prayer and continuing discernment of my own direction.

Why Spiritual Direction?

Last week as I sat in my office in my very comfortable Lazy Boy chair reflecting on these words, I glanced over to the plant that sits on a table just to my right. I had bought the plant three years ago. I don't know its name, but once or twice a year it sends forth a few stalks with beautiful, white blossoms. As I contemplated that plant that day, I saw a lush confusion of long, pointed, green leaves, a plant that is well-watered (most of the time) and apparently growing profusely. But in the centre I noticed small, wilting, dying leaves, growth that was being killed by all the lushness, all the confusion. I became very much aware of the plant's need to be separated and repotted to give all of it enough space to spread its roots and grow. I suspect that is the message this plant has been trying to communicate to me for some time now, but I have not been listening attentively.

I understand spiritual direction to work in much that way. In our gospel pericope, Martha is certainly the epitome of host: hospitable, welcoming, seeking to meet the needs of her guests to the point of putting their needs before her own. What we do not see until she speaks with Jesus is her inner turmoil: the frustration with Mary, her worry about her guests, her distraction with her many household duties. Jesus does not ignore Martha, but engages her, listens to her, holds her in his heart. And he lifts up to her what he experiences of her: "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her." Notice here Jesus is the spiritual director, not simply companion as I would be. Jesus truly directs Martha. As a companion, I would be listening with Martha to the direction of Jesus, listening by means of her experience of the moment, i.e. the worry and distraction. I would invite her to pay attention to that experience of worry and distraction such that she could discern whether she was being drawn closer to Jesus or further away. Even though I could guess that it was drawing her away, I would not presume to know; that is for her and her alone to discern.

Why spiritual direction with another human person rather than unmediated with Christ alone? I suppose similarly we could ask why God chose to come to us as a human person in Jesus. We have been created as social beings. We live with and communicate with other human persons. Our senses of speech and hearing and touch and sight and taste and smell serve us in that communication and relationship with others. We get feedback from others, not only by means of words but also by means of facial expressions, gestures with hands and arms, body posture in general, along with sighs and snorts and laughs and growls and grunts. We are more vulnerable as we sit with another. They can listen to us, watch us, read us. They receive seemingly imperceptible messages by our vibes, our energy.

One-to-one (as well as group) spiritual direction often is effective because there is another person with us; I am not alone when I am with my spiritual companion. I am with someone who is willing to engage with me in my spiritual journey, someone who is willing to care about me, someone who can call me to attend to God's presence in my experience, in my life. Recently I was with a directee who reflected on her experience of direction (she also companions others). She spoke of her own experience as something of an Emmaus experience where in the telling of her own story Jesus becomes revealed to her. This is particularly important for her, since -- in her own religious life -- Scripture was always presenting Jesus at a historical distance. It has only been recently that for her the Scriptures have been opened, indeed her own life has been opened, and Jesus -- the risen Jesus, the Jesus whose spirit resides in and with us -- this Jesus has become alive in her and for her. I do not pretend to know how this happens, that in the telling of our stories with a companion God is alive and present. I simply know that it is true. For me it is an integral part of the Incarnation. I would encourage you to read (or re-read) Dietrich Bonhoeffer's "Life Together," especially the final two chapters on "Ministry" and "Confession and Communion." Bonhoeffer offers a very concrete and powerful rationale for our companioning and being companioned. With another when we are being listened to, when we are being held in their heart, we can be who we are; we need not dissemble. In this space of care and safety, without judgmentalism, I become more aware of the presence of God in my life; with my companion that divine presence is real and palpable.

Images of Spiritual Direction

Abstract thought is not something that particularly is my gift. So for me to come to some sense of what the process of spiritual direction is about and how it works, I have found that concrete images have become important.

One image that I have already been using is that of a companion, and more particularly a companion on a journey. I have seldom travelled alone, but I have heard from others that this kind of travelling can wear thin rather quickly. Oh, it can be nice not to have to deal with someone else's schedule or with someone else's likes and dislikes. But quickly, I am told, a loneliness settles in. There's no one to share the journey with. There's no one to tell the stories to. There's no one to eat with, no one to laugh with, no one to complain with. As many of you know through your own experience, the spiritual journey can become lonely, the dark night of the soul, the wilderness. I can easily begin to feel abandoned lost, hungry, frightened. A spiritual companion on my journey allows me the warmth of another person who can care and love. This companion does not tell me where to go or how to find my way when I am lost. Rather, this one is with me and encourages me as I listen for God to direct me. This person invites me to pay attention to what is happening with me in my own experience, my own life, for it is there that God directs me. For me this companion is not a tour guide who maps out my trip, but rather is the companion who invites me to slow down and see the plants and flowers, to observe the variations in colour and light, to take note of the rock formations, to be quiet so that I can attend to the animal life in the area. As I sit with others as their companion, I listen with them to their experience: their thoughts and their feelings and their relationships and their jobs. As I listen with them, I invite them to slow down and pay attention to the pieces of their story which they so quickly passed over -- the moment they were afraid, that sudden sense of energy, the glimpse that brought such joy, the touch of the wind that made them feel alive, the frustration with the boss, the newly-experienced trust in a friend, the warm comfort of a spouse. And always as they pay attention to those moments, the question hovers about us spoken or unspoken, the question: Where is God in this for you?

Lest you begin to think that this is a logical, straightforward process, allow me quickly to disabuse you of that notion. To help with this, let me suggest the image of a wandering spiral. Some of you may have had the experience of watching a hawk soaring in search of its prey. The hawk seems to meander across the sky with no discernible pattern. But gradually it begins to circle in; the lack of pattern now becomes more clearly circular with the circles becoming smaller and smaller and closer and closer to the earth. Spiritual direction is not a linear process. It is not like our North American educational system in which we progress from one level of knowledge to another. It is not like clinical therapy via the medical model where there is a goal, namely to cure, and we proceed with one symptom at a time. More often than not, the spiritual direction process is a wandering, a meandering on the journey. It is not particularly goal-oriented. Its primary orientation is towards the presence of God in the life experience of the directee. Again, spiritual direction is not about solving problems or fixing someone's life. It is about becoming aware of God (named or unnamed) in our lives.

Spiritual direction is often imagined as a birthing. This process is about interior movements. When a woman is physically pregnant, she can feel the new life moving in her womb. When the fetus is old enough and active enough, others by touch can feel some of the movement exteriorly. We all have the interior movements of the Spirit in us. A spiritual companion, acting rather like a midwife, is there inviting the person to pay attention to those movements. When I sit with someone as a spiritual midwife, I am there encouraging the person to be present to their own experience, to be "in the moment," to feel what they feel, to see what they seem, to know what they know. As with most pregnancies and births, there is often a long gestation period in which the person is very gradually becoming aware of a new way in which God is active in their life. There is generally a time of waiting, sometimes joyous, sometimes painful. Patience is a gift which the directee often discovers in this process. With all this waiting, this moment of the directee "giving birth" to an experience of God is a truly wondrous experience both for the directee and for the companion.

As we pay attention to these interior movements, it is important to remember that not all spiritual movement is warm and fuzzy. As we seek the meaning of these movements, we try to discern whether or nor they are life-giving for us. This is not a matter of painful or comfortable. Those of you who have experienced surgery know that recuperation is painful, but t he pain is generally different than the pain experienced by the diseased organ or broken bone before the surgery. The pain after surgery is often a pain of healing, a pain that gradually decreases as the body mends. Happiness is not always a sign of what is life-giving. Sometimes happiness is a momentary experience that is quite fleeting, and in its wake leaves an emptiness, perhaps even a desolation. When we have at some time laughed at someone's painful clumsiness or found pleasure in the difficulty that hits someone we don't like, then we know a happiness that often leaves us cold and empty. There are times, then, when this process of spiritual direction is like a "tug-of-war" taking notice of what in our lives moves us toward life and what moves us toward what is not life, what is death (life-less-ness) for us. Back in the sixteenth century at the time of Martin Luther this was certainly a very important component of Ignatius of Loyola's "Spiritual Exercises" which he first experienced for himself and later organized for his followers, the Society of Jesus, or the Jesuits. I suspect this is somewhat close to Luther's sense of Law and Gospel, Law being that which points out to us our sin (what is moving us to death and despair), while Gospel is that which offers to us the forgiving love of God in Jesus Christ (which is life for us). Spiritual direction then is that process within which we discern life and not-life moving in us.

Some Issues Surrounding Spiritual Direction

When is it appropriate (and not appropriate) for me to seek out a spiritual companion? One essential for the process of spiritual direction is freedom. If you are being forced, coerced, manipulated into seeking out a spiritual companion, then the process is aborted from the outset. If you find yourself saying, "This is something I ought to do," I would encourage you to check out that "ought." Ought can be that part of myself that is moving me to wholeness and life; ought can be challenging and encouraging. But often it indicates a lack of real freedom of decision. If that freedom is not present for you, then it may be well to wait to proceed.

Complementary with freedom is desire. Spiritual direction is quite appropriate for those who want a life-giving relationship with God. This is the desire reflected in the Psalms: "As the deer longs for the water-brooks, so longs my soul for you, O God. My soul is athirst for God, athirst for the living God, when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?" (Ps. 42:1-2). "For God alone my soul in silence waits; from him comes my salvation" (Ps. 62:1). "O God, you are my gold, eagerly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my flesh faints for you, as a barren and dry land where there is no water" (Ps. 63:1). This is the desire of which St. Augustine spoke in his Confessions: "The thought of you stirs (us) so deeply that (we) cannot be content unless (we) praise you, because you made us for yourself and our hearts find no peace until they rest in you" (Book I, 1). This desire is certainly not always in the form of "Oh, I love God so much!" Often the desire comes in the midst of a wilderness experience, a time of emptiness, dryness. It comes as an interior movement which in the midst of seeming death seeks life. Recently I have been sitting with a young adult who found herself in a deadly trap of meaninglessness. Something in her did not want to grow up, did not want to move away from the "flesh pots" of home, the safety net of parents. But deeper still lies a desire within her, a desire for life. The educational venue has been laid out for her as "the way" for life, but her experience has been that papers and other class requirements hang over her head like some dark, ominous cloud. And this is nothing new to her. This condition of malaise has hung over her for several years now. As she looks back over her twenty-five plus years, she remembers no time of real happiness, but always time for study. Yet a year or two ago she spent a summer in a monastery where she had occasion to work with her hands in the fields and in the kitchen. There she experienced as much life as she ever has. There she was stimulated in body, mind, and soul. There she was able to journal daily with real energy. And yet it was not until we had spent considerable hours together over the last six months that she thought to mention that very important moment of life and energy. I am convinced that the reason she has continued in spiritual direction these months is that the place of life in her, though so deep in her that she has almost forgotten it, this place of life has been moving as desire for something more, something worth living for.

Is this God moving in her? I believe so, even though we seldom name it as God. It is life, it is truth, it is the way in which we are being invited to journey. Remember the words of Jesus in John's gospel: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life" (John 14:6a). It is the Spirit that dwells in our deepest centre who reminds us of the truth and the life. Our discerning in the process of spiritual direction is a discerning of that truth and life.

What do I need in a spiritual companion?

It is probably important to remember that spiritual direction is a charism, a gift. It is not given through ordination or graduation or certification. The fact that someone hangs out a shingle with impressive credentials does not mean that his person will be a good spiritual companion for you. As I have talked with folks about what they look for, and as I reflect on what is important to me, I find that there are some characteristics which stand out. Hospitality is the first aspect of a person that I encounter. Does this person care enough to welcome me into her space? Has he cleaned up the clutter? Are chairs arranged so that the room is conducive to reflection and conversation? Is the space too "busy" such that I may likely be distracted? Is there a feeling of warmth both in the room and in the person?

Secondly, I look for a person who can listen and engage with me. Listening is not simply the act of allowing words or sounds to fall upon one's eardrum. Listening, rather, is the act of opening oneself to the words and bodily presence of another. This is a listening that reflects care and love, a listening that receives and holds the other, listening that desires to be with the other. As a companion to probably several hundred people over the last seven years, I am not always ready to listen and engage the other person. Sometimes this indicates that I am not the person to be sitting with this directee; something in me gets in the way. I have had directees come once or twice and simply not return; I have had other directees tell me that "it" (i.e. spiritual direction or perhaps me as the companion) was not working for them. I have ended spiritual direction relationships with two companions because, as fine folks as they are, they were not able to engage me as I felt I needed to be engaged.

But more often than not, my lack of readiness to listen is momentary, generally caused by something distracting me. Perhaps it was the lack of enough sleep the night before, or the fact that I ate too much for lunch (or didn't eat any lunch at all), or the residue of the previous directee conversation that remained in me, or the beautiful day happening outside my window. With these distractions, as soon as I notice them, I offer them to God asking that God be present in the way that this directee needs. I also ask that I can be present in a similar way, knowing that the process does not depend on me (it depends on God!), but that I am here to help the process along as best I can.

Another element that is important to me in a spiritual director is space. No, this is not the meeting space (though such physical space may indicate the personal space of the companion); I am referring to the interior spaciousness of the person. Can this person be with me in silence? Does she need always to have words filling the space? Is he rushed with much work to be done, many people to see? Are there constant furtive glances at the clock, as though she can hardly wait for me to leave? Or does he evidence a peace and calm that invites me into a similar interior space? Does she have a sense of space which is large enough to receive my darkness and depression as well as my light and pleasantness? This past year I learned a great deal about interior spaciousness from a person with whom I sat. Space was for him the issue. I invited him to imagine his interior space. At first it was closed in. There was little if any room for God and for grace. But as he explored his interior space, he discovered openings, doors, windows. He was able to move about. And God was present receiving him and speaking with him. God offered him a life-giving word. Certainly there were (and I am sure still are) times when my friend forgot the spaciousness within himself and once again became the harried, isolated student. But having once visited that spacious place in himself, he could return and reclaim the grace present there.

Acceptance is also of great importance. Along with this goes a presence that is genuinely nonjudgmental. Most of the time we live in a world that does not easily accept us but is quick to judge us. We work, even fight for, approval --from employers, co-workers, teachers, even friends and parents and spouse and siblings and children. Even the church is often a place where folks encounter the judgment not only of God but of other people. Confession is difficult because "what will they think of me?" And as Bonhoeffer says (and I think rightly), we need to be able to be ourselves with the other person in order truly to hear and experience the forgiving love of God. It is crucial for me to be able to lay out my deepest and darkest secrets with my own spiritual companion. If she were to indicate by word or action (a gasp, a grimace, an explicit word of reproach) that that part of me is utterly detestable and is rightly kept secret, then I could not ask her to companion me in my own process of spiritual direction. As I sit with another, I cannot and will not pretend to understand what they speak to me. Rather, I invite the person to be with their own experience, dark and uncomfortable as it may be, and to explore how it is for them. As they continue to be with this experience, I may ask how God is present with them in this. Does God condemn them? Or is God a gracious, accepting presence? I do not remember any instances in which God has not been able to receive the directee as that person is, with anything and everything that person would bring.

Now I certainly do not want to suggest that a person companioning others in spiritual direction is anywhere near perfect. Perfection is not the issue. But being in touch with reality is the issue. Persons who have their heads in the clouds and who suggest in one way or another that they have this "faith thing" all together are probably the worst candidates to companion others. Spiritual direction is not about achieving perfection; it is about being engaged in the journey of faith and life. Here in these days you are being invited and challenged to be with God in your life -- your real life, not some pretend Sunday morning life. Spiritual direction is the process of becoming aware of God's presence in our work and our play, our anger and our loving, our making love and our making peace and even in our making war. We are being invited to be aware of God's presence with us in the light and the darkness, on the mountaintop and in the valley and on the fertile plains. We are being invited in spiritual direction to be aware of God's presence with us in our joy and in our pain, in our fear and in our courage, in our sin and in our being sinned against.

Whoever would be available to companion another must be actively engaged in that awareness of God, including an awareness of those things that block our awareness. As a spiritual companion, I am myself companioned by another. There have been times I sought out therapy so that I could deal with issues which were blocking my openness to my own life, my openness to God, my openness to others. I engage regularly with other spiritual companions in the exercise of peer supervision where the focus is not on my directees but on me and on how I am with these folks with whom I sit.

And as one who encourages others in their own life of prayer, it is important that I as a companion be continually in prayer. Now this does not mean that I get up at 5 a. m. each morning and spend an hour or two in prayer and scripture reading. I have nothing against that practice; I have directees who do practise it. But it is not my practice. I do seek some alone time with God; but it is likely only a few minutes here or there. However, I do seek to be aware of God's presence throughout my day, whether I am sitting with someone in spiritual direction or playing solitaire on the computer, As I companion others, I encourage them to find their own way of prayer; for some it has been in taking walks along Lake Michigan, for others it is time alone in the chapel, for others it is a regular discipline of an hour each morning in prayer and reading and journaling, for others it is in singing, for others it is in intimate conversation with others. I do not suggest that there is one way to pray, or even a best way to pray. In fact, I have come to understand prayer very broadly as being in God, moving in God, speaking in God, listening in God, and hopefully being mindful of God's presence. This is the prayer that I encourage and hope for.

Further, I do not want to suggest that persons companioning others need to be ordained or vowed, i.e. pastors, priests, or religious (either brothers or sisters/nuns). Companioning is a gift, a charism. It is not conferred by means of laying on of hands. It is a gift of wisdom and gentleness and faithfulness. For many years it was generally assumed within some Christian traditions, namely Roman Catholicism, that once one was ordained then one was qualified to be a spiritual director for others. From what I have heard from those involved in this form of direction, the emphasis was heavily on "direction" with lots of teaching of doctrine and pronouncement of moral obligations, and little companioning. In the early 1970's we saw a movement towards the training of spiritual direction practitioners, both clergy/religious and lay. This is not the kind of training that credentials folks after they jump through certain hoops or pass certain exams. Rather, this is a training that admits those persons who have some evidence of the gifts necessary for companioning someone on their spiritual journey. The gifts must be in evidence before people can be trained to use them. Many spiritual companions whom I respect highly are lay people, often people who have been approached by acquaintances for spiritual conversation and who then realize that they need to be helped in this ministry. If I were seeking a companion at this time, I would look for someone who has had some sort of training. Also, I generally ask others for suggestions of spiritual companions. In the geographical area in which I live there are several centres for spiritual direction. If I did not know an individual to ask, I would probably go through one of the centres that have been recommended to find someone. But especially I would not give up my spiritual direction to someone who did not fit for me. Usually we agree to meet two or three times and then decide whether or not the process is working, doing what the directee needs. If you find yourself in a spiritual direction situation that is not working for you, say so and find another person to companion you. Often the companion is willing to acknowledge that the situation is not working and will help you find someone else who will be able to sit with you.

There is so much about this process of spiritual direction that can be said (and probably needs to be said) that I have omitted. I find myself overwhelmed by the power and magnitude of this ministry, by the mystery of God present and active with people. My hope is that his presentation has given you some sense of the practice and the practitioner. And if you find your curiosity peeked a bit, then try it out. Who knows where God may be inviting you?