A sobering tale

Today, a fellow traveller on this road posted on the Ship of Fools website (www.ship-of-fools.com) that she had been turned down at BAP, at least for the time being. She has taken it with great peace and maturity. But it’s a sobering reminder of what any of us may have to face. It’s also an important caveat to something I’ve been meaning to share.

Nevertheless, I think the following is worth knowing. Not long ago, in an idle internet moment, I came across some advice written by a bishop’s selector / adviser for those attending BAP from a particular diocese. I have annoyingly not been able to find it again or I’d include a link. However, I can remember what it said.

According to this document, the main reasons people fail at BAP are:
1. being unthinkingly dogmatic, not giving evidence of a thoughtful faith
2. being a very new Christian (under 12 months) and giving the impression of it being their “latest fad”
3. lack of interest in / engagement with the wider world, current affairs etc.
4. sloppiness in filling in the forms (!)
5. persuading their DDO to let them have a go against the DDO’s own advice (!!)

This are important points to note, but overall I found this pretty reassuring. The implication was that these people should never have been sent to BAP or should have been better prepared by their dioceses. I’d almost managed to convince myself that a responsible DDO such as the one here would never set someone up for a fall in this way.

But today’s news is an important if unwelcome reminder that it can happen to anyone. I don’t know the individual personally, but nothing about her suggests any of the above failings. Proper discernment and preparation should weed out most of those obvious faults, but when it comes down to it the bishop’s advisers can still disagree with the professional opinion of an experienced DDO, two vocations advisers and an examining chaplain – indeed that’s their job.

The other important point about this individual’s experience is that she’s been advised to work on some areas and come back in a year. Whilst this is obviously very positive for her, since the door is not closed, it’s concerning in another way. The DDO and others involved in selection are anxious to point out that they’re looking for potential, not perfection. But the answer is very often “not yet” – which implies, yes you have the potential, but we want you to do more on your own before we’ll take you on. Which just adds another layer of risk and uncertainty to the whole process.

Pray for all those who are going through this.

In search of direction (or, Lost in translation)

When I first approached the church asking for a spiritual director, it was as a confused atheist looking for, well, some kind of direction in matters spiritual. One diocese kindly but redundantly explained the parish system to me; another ignored my email entirely. When I finally did obtain a diocesan list of those offering spiritual direction in my area, it was from the Diocesan Director of Ordinands – which says rather too much about the church’s attitude towards lay people.

The list was an unintentional comic masterpiece. A paraphrase might be “Here is a list of spiritual directors – or rather not directors but companions. They aren’t necessarily any better than any others who aren’t on the list. They simply have more experience. Not that experience is necessarily a good thing, of course.”

It gives an indication of how oddly embarassed the church is about what is rapidly becoming one of its most in-demand ministries. This extends even to many of the people offering it; exasperatingly large numbers of those on the list had chosen to detail their children and their pets but remained coy about what they offered in the way of spiritual direction.

But my favourite line has to be the following: “By its very nature, this list is public but we recognise the essential hidden-ness of this ministry.”

Welcome to the parallel universe of Christian spirituality, in which fees are “offerings” and “how are you?” becomes “what has God been doing in your life?”

***

So, some directions for those seeking direction…

1. Spiritual direction is not like being a disciple of some sage or guru. It does not involve placing oneself under the discipline of a master or accepting a strict rule of life. There are no rules, no punishments, and no answers. In so far as “direction” is involved at all, it’s more in the line of getting out the map, turning it around a few times, and setting off together to explore.

So having got psyched up for some hardcore spiritual discipline, I wasn’t initially impressed when my spiritual director said that our aim was to make me “feel lovable”. I wanted the full Opus Dei, not self-help for fluffy people.

This is the first test.

I’ve spent the last year breaking my addiction to giving myself hell, otherwise known as salvation by hard work. I’ve had to give up waiting for messages from above and focus on growing in graces like faith, holiness, comfort and, yes, feeling loveable. You’d think that accepting a gift would be the easiest thing in the world, but it takes surprising amount of practice.

So perhaps it is all a bit Yoda-like after all.

2. As far as I can see, spiritual direction comes in two extremes. You can do the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises by 19th Annotation: two hours of prayer a day and two meetings a week for six months. Or you can meet for a cup of tea every couple of months. However, these are really just degrees of intensity; either way, you pray and then you talk about it.

Your spiritual director may recommend a technique for meditating on a Bible passage, either Lectio Divina (Benedictine) or Imaginative Contemplation (Ignatian). There’s plenty about both of these on-line, as long as you don’t get too hung up about following them like it’s a recipe (mix two parts bible to one part silence and leave to rise for 40 minutes…). Or they may suggest something else, like painting or poetry or going for a walk.

3. Shopping around is Not the Done Thing.

I made a shortlist and went for taster sessions with a couple of different directors, try-before-you-buy style. Which as social faux pas go is up there with the time I booked three blind dates back-to-back in one evening: efficient, but liable to get funny looks.

Having said that, it’s essential that you can feel relaxed enough with your spiritual director to tell them about the stuff you get scared even telling to God. For me, that’s not so difficult, because I’m the kind of shameless verbal diarrhoeac who shares her life story on blog.co.uk. But assuming that most people have a sense of personal privacy, don’t be afraid to call time if the “click” isn’t there.

To sum up, plenty of opportunities for misunderstanding, often doesn’t seem to be getting you anywhere, and it’s all about the “click” – and all for the sake of feeling lovable. So, very much like all those dates, actually.