The Emmaus Road: “Dear Spiritual Director, Tell Me What To Do.”

Introduction: Many spiritual directors are formed and trained to remain focused on the individual coming for direction and discouraged from revealing personal experiences or struggles, as doing so could hinder a directee from entering into his or her own experiences and exploring his or her relationship with God. These essays seek to enter into places of vulnerability that reflect common human experiences—of both a spiritual director and directee— and demonstrate how God meets us both on the path of accompaniment, just as He did for the two disciples on the Road of Emmaus. This is the second of what I hope will be many future essays in which I share a “behind the scenes” perspective as a spiritual director writing about my own journey with the very topics that are brought to me by hypothetical directees. 

 
It inevitably happens: I’m sitting across from another person who is struggling in life and needs to make a decision. Perhaps it is a job opportunity that requires a cross-country move, a wedding invitation to a beachfront celebration that violates Catholic teaching on the sanctity of marriage, or an upcoming conversation with a child that will prove to be difficult. Whatever the situation, I inevitably get asked the question, what should I do? In other words, the directee wants me, the director, to give guidance. The problem is, I am not God. God is the one who needs to guide, yet I have subtly been invited to take His place.

 
As tempting as it can be for a spiritual director to share one’s wisdom and experience with another person who genuinely wants help, a spiritual director needs to tread lightly and carefully in this dangerous territory. A piece of advice, as innocent as it may seem, can end up translating into a directive that leaves freedom and discernment behind. A piece of advice, as sincere as it may be, can end up thwarting someone’s path forward. A piece of advice, even well-meaning, can be the wrong piece of advice.

 
I know a young woman who received counsel from a priest in the Sacrament of Confession that ended up leading her into years of anguish. When she was a teenager, she was told she likely had a vocation to a consecrated form of life, such as religious life or consecrated virginity. For years this woman wrestled and tried to follow the priest’s conviction, entering and leaving religious life, struggling to live single in the world, trying to be faithful to God’s plan as she had been told it was. As she continued into adulthood she had to learn to personally discern with God. She is now happily married, having found her path.

 
When I was in religious life, I made the mistake of encouraging another woman to quit her job and enter the convent following the example of St. Peter and the other fishermen who had left their nets and followed Jesus immediately. In my zeal and enthusiasm I spoke with authority about someone’s life over which I had no authority. It was not for me to make a decision about her calling or the timing of her response. I have since learned from this mistake.

 
It is ironic that I had so casually advised her when I had previously been in a similar position. I had also been encouraged by religious sisters to leave my parish job mid-year; however, I felt offended that they would encourage me to break my contract, as if the commitment to making and keeping religious vows had nothing to do with fulfilling my duties and commitment in my workplace. I refused to leave early. Still, I can see how, if I had felt that they had a closer relationship to God, a privileged vantage-point to knowing His will, I could have felt compelled to follow their advice, as if not doing so meant resisting God.

 
In the medical field there is something called the Hippocratic Oath, a formal promise to do no harm, among other things. In the ministry of spiritual direction, there ought to be a formal oath to not tell anyone else what to do. In the context of spiritual direction, telling someone else what to do goes against the very principles upon which spiritual direction is able to exist—namely personal freedom and responsibility through a prayerful ongoing conversation with God. If there is no personal freedom, there is no longer spiritual direction, there is only abuse and slavery, as happened to Saint Jane Francis de Chantal before she met St. Francis de Sales.

 
Jane longed for God and wanted to find His will in her life. Unfortunately, she came in contact with a priest who did her greater harm than good, requiring that she only seek him for direction, that she speak to no one else about her inner life, and that she follow a set of spiritual practices that were harming her. Jane’s former spiritual director was leading her into deeper anxiety and depression. His guidance was a spiritual trap that ensnared her until the day the Lord finally set her free.

 
Spiritual directors are not the oracles of Greek Mythology. They do not have the ability to speak God’s will into every question of your life. They too are often struggling to discern, they too have unanswered questions, they too are pilgrims on the way. Spiritual directors are not there to be the voice of God in your life. Rather, they are sheep who know the Shepherd and hopefully can help you recognized the Good Shepherd’s voice and follow Him.

Can God inspire a spiritual director to ask a good question, make a good observation, or say something that helps you? Absolutely. That does not mean you should expect the spiritual director to have more light from God or more understanding than you when it comes to your personal decisions, nor does it mean that blindly following a spiritual director’s advice is going to be good for you, even when it comes to prayer.

 
My husband once met with a priest for spiritual direction who told him to read a certain book in prayer. As it turns out, the book was not the right fit for my husband. This is yet another danger in spiritual direction—a director trying to make the directee follow his or her own devotional path or spiritual journey without seeking what is best for the directee. Often it is easy to slip into what we already know and to not make space for the unknown. So, dear directee, please understand that while you may want guidance from your director, you will still have to discern if it is guidance that comes from God.