Physician, Heal Thyself
I am both a spiritual director and a spiritual directee, a giver and receiver of direction. “Why,” you might ask “does a spiritual director need a spiritual director?” Doesn’t the old adage “Physician, heal thyself” apply? No, in fact, it doesn’t. Another saying is much nearer the mark: a lawyer who defends himself has a fool for a client. A spiritual director who directs himself…well, there is no need to finish the statement because self-direction is, quite simply, practically impossible. Why so?
First, one of the greatest spiritual struggles is that against delusion, a blindness to one’s true spiritual condition. By definition one cannot see one’s own blind spots. What I would see and name and challenge in a directee’s life is hidden from me in my own; as my own director I would truly be the blind leading the blind, and we would “both” fall into a pit. This is not unlike looking in the mirror. I see my face clearly, but I am blind to the back of my head. Likewise, I see the spiritual face I present to the world clearly, but not always what lies behind it. A different perspective is needed — a perspective a director can best provide.
Second, self-direction cannot address the deadliest of the eight deadly thoughts, or the chief of the seven deadly sins if you prefer that numbering: pride. Only the proudest man would dare think he can guide himself. Such was the heresy of Pelagius who was certain that he could pull himself up to perfection by his own spiritual bootstraps. A good director is always on the lookout for the telltale signs of pride in a directee: a too ready taking of offense, an over scrupulous dejection at one’s own sin, a constant comparison with others, an insistence on one’s own way, a certain fascination with novelty or with the sound of one’s own voice. Pride generally masquerades as something else, as something seemingly noble. A watchful director can see it, but a self-director almost never. In fact, pride can even appear as humility, just as the devil can appear as an angel of light. Then, a self-director holds onto it tenaciously as if cultivating a virtue, for he thinks he is doing just that. Only an outside intervention will reveal this false spiritual consolation.
Third, one cannot truly confess to oneself, not in a way that renders temptation impotent. Anglicans, I’m sad to say, traditionally have a rather anemic approach to the Sacrament of Reconciliation (confession): all may, none must, some should. This is the Anglican via media at its worst. All should. That’s it: all should. Why? Because opening up to a trusted spiritual guide and revealing one’s struggles and temptations weakens them so that the temptation does not become sin, so that sin does not become captivity, so that captivity does not become passion. Not all spiritual direction includes formal, sacramental confession; but all true spiritual direction includes self-revelation of the best and worst in oneself to a faithful, wise, and compassionate companion on the spiritual journey, to one who has only the directee’s spiritual welfare at heart and in mind. Every recovering alcoholic in AA has a sponsor to call in moments of doubt and crisis — a confessor, if you will. No recovering alcoholic would dare sponsor himself. That is ancient spiritual wisdom, not modern, therapeutic insight.
Fourth — and this one is puzzling — I find that I cannot say to myself what I say so readily to my directees: God loves you; God takes great delight in you and rejoices over you with singing; you are God’s son or daughter in whom he is well pleased; well done good and faithful servant. Why is that? Why can I not imagine God saying to me what I so clearly hear him saying to my directees? Why am I ready to proclaim the good news to others but can scarcely believe it to be true when I dare whisper it to myself? It is, of course, a great tactic of the enemy, but one I fall for again and again. I need a director to assure me that the truths I apply to others apply equally to me.
These are just a few of the reasons that a spiritual director needs a spiritual director. I could also have mentioned prayer, accountability, discernment, encouragement and a host of others, but perhaps the point is made. Physicians should not treat themselves. Lawyers should not defend themselves. Spiritual directors should not direct themselves.
Now, if you are not a spiritual director, why do you care about any of this? It’s quite simple really; if you are a Christian without a spiritual director, then you are, to a greater or lesser degree, self-directed. Since the very great majority of Christians past and present have not had and do not have a director, I must be clear about this. Spiritual direction occurs in many forms. Full engagement in the life and sacramental worship of the Church is a form of spiritual direction, the most fundamental and essential form. Good spiritual reading — the Fathers, the classics, and even some modern writers — along with study of and reflection on the whole counsel of God’s Word is spiritual direction. Friendship — sharing life together — with other Christians can be a form of spiritual direction. These are the most foundational forms of spiritual direction, and they are available to all. A good director will — through prayer, holy conversation, and Spiritual discernment — guide you more deeply and deftly into each of these disciplines.
But, there are those who want to go “further up … further in,” as C. S. Lewis writes. For these, a spiritual director serves as a guide and companion along paths that are both somehow familiar and ever new.
