Cooperation with
the Spiritual Director
John E. Coogan, S.J.CONVICTION of the need or utility of spiritual
direction is the first step towards cooperation with the director. Of
itself, however, it is not sufficient to insure proper cooperation. One
must know also in what spirit he should seek and receive direction.
Perhaps the most essential quality required of the penitent is
humility, or littleness. Of course, this littleness is "to the Gentiles,
foolishness." The world teaches the ambition to be thought "important";
it is apparently "far more essential to seem worth while than to be it."
The contrary spirits of Christ and the world can be seen in nothing more
clearly than in their attitudes towards this spirit of littleness.
Christ warns His followers, "Unless you become as little children . .."
while Satan counters with the promise of an earthly kingdom if—falling
down—one would adore him.
The wise St. Vincent de Paul suggested the true model of littleness
for nuns when he would have his Sisters look upon themselves as simple
village girls. "Real village girls," he tells them, "are extremely
simple; . . . they are not obstinate in their opinions, nor attached to
their own views; and they believe simply what is told them. . . . I am
pleased to hold this opinion of you. Oh, God be blessed, my Daughters."
Only through such humility, such littleness, may we hope for such
openness and candor as will make true direction possible. Of this
difficulty Father W. E. Mulroney, S.S.J., remarks, with particular
reference to Sisters: "Some are naturally secretive about what
goes on in the inner sanctuary of their souls. Some feel such should not
be exposed, even to their confessor. But I am convinced that a confessor
does not even begin to be helpful until he has inspired so much
confidence that the Sister can without difficulty relate, not only
infractions of rule, but also her inner strivings for holiness. This
confidential relationship between penitent and confessor is the great
desideratum. And until it is acquired, not much good will result in the
way of direction." Mother Stuart, too, complains of this "instinct of
secretiveness, which is so fraught with peril; of the danger of
half-confidences, partly entrusted to one, partly to another, which
makes any guidance impossible."
That there should be a shrinking from opening the inner shrine of the
soul to a director is quite natural. But in the Christian dispensation,
with confession divinely established, and with the moral necessity of
direction clearly understood, strength should be found in faith and
humility for this openness. Cromwell's command, "Paint me as I am, warts
and all," has implications for a true penitent. To be guided as he is,
he must be known as he is. As Tanquerey says, "The spiritual director
must be acquainted with the chief features of his past life, his
habitual faults, his efforts to correct them, the results obtained, so
that he sees clearly what is left to be done. He must, likewise, know
his present dispositions, his likes and dislikes, the temptations he
undergoes and the method employed to overcome them, the virtues he feels
the greatest need of, and the means used to acquire them. The director
must know all this in order to give proper advice."
This candor will be easier if the penitent can come to feel, as
Tanquerey desires, "respect for the director tempered by an affection
that is frank and genuine, but full of reverence; an affection of a
child for his father." For, while the association of director and
penitent should be confined to the confessional, the relationship should
be one of personal kindliness. St. Theresa here tells us that "If we
feel friendship for those who benefit our bodies, why should we not feel
so great a friendship for those who strive and labor to benefit our
souls? On the contrary, I think a liking for my confessor is a great
help to my progress if he is holy and spiritual, and if I see that he
endeavors to profit my soul. Human nature is so weak that this feeling
is often a help to our undertaking great things in God's service."
Francis de Sales, too, speaks of this director relationship as one of
friendship, "strong and sweet, holy, all sacred, wholly divine and
entirely spiritual." Let there, then, be a friendship, founded on faith
and producing such candor as that of the Spanish child beginning her
first confession: "I am Joaquina and you are Jesus Christ."
Of the further qualities that should characterize the disposition of a
religious toward direction, probably the most important is
obedience. St. Alphonsus seems unable to emphasize sufficiently
its need. "Obey your director," he warns, "and do not depart from his
directions, even when what you wish to do in opposition to his advice
appears good in your eyes." This great moral theologian then gives us
the solemn assurance that "it is not possible that a soul desirous of
becoming a saint, and placing all her confidence in God, should be
deluded when she faithfully obeys His minister." This absolute assurance
of the safety of true obedience to one's director arises to gladden us
from many of the writings of the saints. Thus Philip Neri used to repeat
to his penitents: "Have confidence in your confessor, for the Lord will
not allow him to err; there is no way of cutting the snares of the devil
more secure than to do the will of another, and there is nothing more
dangerous than to be directed by one's own opinion." And Francis de
Sales simply remarks, "An obedient soul was never lost."
Father Poulain, the mystical theologian, more reserved than the
above- quoted saints, makes some necessary distinctions in answer to the
question whether the penitent should exactly obey. Recalling the
difficulty caused by Jansenist directors and other such, he replies: "If
the director is given to us by a competent authority, we must obey him
in all that is not opposed to the Church's teaching.
God will sooner or later correct any defects in our direction if we
take the two following precautions: if we pray to be directed aright,
and if we do not remain merely passive in the hands of our director. It
is not contrary to obedience to take the initiative, to point out our
attractions to him and to make respectful objections.
"When we have chosen the director of our own free will, we should add
two other conditions if we wish to be able to count lawfully upon God's
assistance; that of having done all that was in reason possible to make
a good choice; and being ready to change our director if it becomes
evident that he is inspired by general principles that are contrary to
the traditions of the ascetic or mystic writers. If the question is
doubtful, the presumption remains in his favor." (Cf. The Graces of
Interior Prayer, p. 482.)
In this matter of obedience, one may say, remarks St. Alphonsus, that
"Had I a St. Bernard for my confessor, I too would obey him blindly; but
my confessor is not a St. Bernard." "No," Alphonsus concedes, "he is not
a St. Bernard, but he more than a St. Bernard, for he holds the place of
God." To show that this obedience to a director was with him far more
than theory, his biographer tells us that Alphonsus, doctor of moral
theology though he was, "on matters of interior perfection, took his
director's word for the voice of God. When perplexed about anything he
merely explained the situation, wrote down the answer he received, and
considered it as though dictated by God Himself. To cut short any desire
to argue or resist, he made a vow to obey his director." St. Ignatius of
Loyola went even farther, if possible, when in his interior trials he
prayed, "Lord, show me the way in which I ought to walk; and though you
should give me a dog for my guide, I will faithfully follow him."
As regards the use of direction only a few details need be added. One
observation is that while the director acts in the name of Christ, he
does not supersede the Holy Ghost. The director's business, as Father
Faber wisely warns us, "is not that of a pioneer . . . He does not lead
his penitents. The Holy Ghost leads them. He holds out his hands from
behind, as a mother does to her tottering child, to balance his
uncertain steps as he sways overmuch, now on one side, now on another."
"For," as Faber concludes, "the end of spiritual direction in all stages
of the interior and mystical life is one, single, and invariable: it is
liberty of spirit." It will follow, therefore, as Faber elsewhere says,
that the director should not direct in too great detail. In fact, he
declares rather drolly, "I never knew nor read of any one who had a
director and then suffered because he was too little directed."
The English Jesuit Provincial and spiritual guide, Father Edward
Purbrick, also insists on the need of leaving to the penitent the power
of choice over the massed details of life. "A director," he remarks, "is
for the spiritual life, not for discussing or advising on all sorts of
questions, for example, of ways and means. Don't look or wait for me to
settle every little thing. Make up your own mind, purify your intention
and act for the best." Nor should the penitent anxiously trouble either
his director or himself regarding his spiritual progress. "Those anxious
searching's of heart about advancing in perfection," says Francis de
Sales, "and those endeavors to see if we are advancing, are not at all
pleasing to God . . . One good work done with a tranquil spirit is worth
far more than several done with eagerness."
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