I walk from my car, parked in a lot a short planned community block away.
I turn the corner and half way up the next block I see the screen to the front door open.
Judith steps out on the small porch and greets me with her usual smile as I approach.
Today I met with my spiritual director. I look forward to these meetings. We have developed a deep spiritual connection over the course of our two years together. Each meeting encourages me to look within and toward the Holy that binds us together. I marvel at her quiet attention to the holy. I observe that she is always so still, peaceful, kind and loving. I wonder to myself, does she ever burn with a fury at injustice? Shout at the top of her lungs “Stop the madness!”? If she does, I never see that carry into our meetings. She seems the perfect peace pilgrim, always calming, the result of years following the habits of the Society of Friends, the Quaker tradition.
Stepping into the cool of her living room we hug momentarily and exchange greetings, a familiarity that has grown over time. This embrace was not always a part of our relationship, evolving only after trust had been well established between us.
Spiritual direction is a unique relationship, established between two people with the expectation that there will be deep regard and concern for the directee, but not a friendship in the sense of sharing large quantities of time in activities outside the sessions of spiritual direction. Physical affection is not what drew me into this relationship, nor what Spiritual Direction is primarily about. Maintaining healthy physical boundaries is tremendously important in ministry. I am, in fact, by nature quite stand offish regarding hugging in the congregation. Serving as a pastor for four years I learned that in spite of my own preference, a cautious behavior toward hugging, there are certain times and also certain people that do have a deep need for hugs. Hugs seem to serve as assurance of the other persons’ regard for them. This is a place of regular internal examination for my ministry.
After an hour drive to reach her home/office she offers simple hospitality. Judith offers a glass of water, and allows me time to stop into the restroom before we start our session.
When I reenter the living room she is already seated in her usual place and I take my place. After two years there is no longer need for words about where to sit. It is a comfortable routine, much like finding one’s pew in the sanctuary of the family church.
As I settle into my seat I observe the candle, in a simple holder, a small statue and flowers in a vase. I comment that the colors seem to predict fall. The table cloth and the flowers are deep rich colors; orange daylily with a spike of blue Agapantha; a deep rich green and black weave on the table anticipate the arrival of Fall to which she acknowledges she is prematurely pushing the last edge of summer toward autumn, her favorite season of the year.
As we begin to shift attention to the “work” of our time, she asks my preference for how to move forward. Never is a meeting scripted in advance. That is one of the joys of being in spiritual direction. Each meeting presents itself as an open invitation to the Holy in relationship with joined hearts, minds and spirit. It is Holy conversation and prayerful connection. Prayerful listening is the hallmark of her practice.
For today we started with a time of quiet. For myself, it was an attempt at centering prayer.
I close my eyes and rest comfortably in the oversized chair with my feet on the ottoman. With my eyes closed I listen and barely hear a sound. For a few minutes I am distracted by my body. I have an itch at nose, and a twitching in my thoughts. I remind myself of the intention of centering prayer, to be in the presence of God, but not to talk. This is a time for listening, and being. I shift my attention to this being, recalling my sacred word. Shalom.
All around it seems perfectly quiet, and then I realize the quiet is my own inner ears being closed over. Like my grandson diving into a pool holding his nose, I reach up to my nose and pinch it.
I pinch my nose, gently blow and now, all at once I can hear. The pressure that built up in my ears as I traversed down the mountain pass has been released and I am now aware of the gentle movement on the other side of the front door.
Not a person, who would interrupt the quietude, but the movement of the wind around the wind chimes that hang in her front yard. In this movement surrounding us I sense the Holy Spirit’s presence. Again I must remind myself that I am trying to rest in the presence of God, not think about things good or bad, or to converse with God. Centering prayer is an emptying of self to allow the presence of God to speak.
I am still for a time and then begin to see a purple glowing on the inside of my eyelid. Is this God? I know not, but feel at peace in this time. I continue to observe this pulsating purple light for a few more seconds and then realize it has subsided. Where are you God? Was that you on the inside of my eyelids? Where are you now?
I settle more deeply into being. I never am sure about how much time has passed since I bring no wrist watch to the session and tuck my cell phone out of reach. I trust Judith’s sense of timing will be sufficient for our time together.
Eventually I begin to open my eyes and observe. Judith is still as a statue. I wonder, briefly, for no real good reason, “is she okay?” This passes. I wait silently for her to rejoin me. I think to myself, in awe, what great ability to be perfectly still, at peace, and receptive to the Holy. I ask of myself and God, why am I not able to do that.
When she returns her outward attention to me she asks me to name words for what describes where I am at the present time. Transition, gratitude and peace are my words. I share about transitions, as returning to school, this time at Bloy House, to begin my Anglican Studies program on Fridays and Saturdays. I share about the blessings of having a supportive community, assisting me in obtaining my books for the semester and also about the housing through Myra House; it’s asthetic appeal and more frugal price for each weekend.
There are many reasons someone engages in Spiritual Direction. All clergy are encouraged to have a spiritual director. Read histories of the ancients and monastic communities and you will encounter references to one’s spiritual director with regularity.
For me it spiritual direction serves multiple purposes. Nominees for Holy Orders in the Episcopal Church are expected to establish a relationship with a spiritual director as they engage in the discernment process. Spiritual directors have their own spiritual director as a form of supervision. Judith is my spiritual director with the intention that she is also my supervisor for any spiritual direction I provide to directees.
My relationship with Judith was established upon my return to California from Idaho. I was aware of a need for a neutral place to engage in conversation in discerning God’s direction for my life. At that time I was exploring vocational options to parish ministry. I was curious about spiritual direction as a vocation, exploring the possibility of Chaplaincy and considering the idea of returning to the Episcopal Church. I was suddenly and quite unexpectedly unemployed and looking for answers to where God was leading me to be engaged in the work of the church in the world. I learned of Judith through the Still Point Center for Christian Spirituality as I investigated various training programs for career transition.
In our time together through the past two years I have retained an interest in the becoming a spiritual director and yet, in all reflections the essential part of my call to ministry has been the call to parish as a priest. I’ve navigated the waters of changing denominations with Judith serving as my spiritual director and find satisfaction in learning through the experience how to guide others in their experience of the holy and discernment. This has been a great blessing.
Meeting with Judith regularly provides me an opportunity to reflect on what has been happening in my life during each intervening period. She raises questions which provoke self-examination. There may be a specific connection to what I say and some words of wisdom which she feels led by the Holy Spirit to impart to me for my own spiritual growth. She may offer a suggestion of a spiritual practice, or suggest a place to be in reflection. When I leave at the end of the session I know that I will not simply be a name filed away until our next meeting. I am not a “case”. I am someone for whom she has accepted a special responsibility. I will remain in her daily prayer concerns, because that is the nature of spiritual direction.
As is true for most clergy relationships, our time together is held as a confidential relationship; all usual caveats remaining. Judith retains the right, the moral duty to break confidence if a directee indicates a potential desire to cause harm to self or others.
As we conclude our time together she suggests a revision in our schedule, a time for our next meeting which will correspond to my schedule for classes in Claremont.
I leave her cottage and head to my car for the return ride home, savoring the reality of God’s presence, the gift of quiet peace and hopeful about the transition back to seminary work and new ministry endeavors in the parish.
