The Pastoral Art of Spiritual Direction

I've had the privilege of sitting with a couple of wise spiritual directors over the past couple of months. One asks excellent questions that allow me to probe my thoughts and emotions to discern what God might be up to in my life. The other offers poetry, scripture, and imaginative exercises to help me find new ways of encountering Jesus. Both directors use distinct yet helpful approaches prodding me to grow in faith and I am grateful for their assistance.

Job, the Hebrew Bible figure, had a different experience. In the midst of devastating life circumstances his counsellors attempted to help get him in touch with God but, in the end, the LORD ended up judging them saying, "you have not spoken of me what is right..." (42:7). Yikes! They were so convinced they knew Job's soul and the mind and heart of God. Yet, in the end, they were off the mark.

I wonder how many pastors are like Jobs friends. No doubt, I'm in that company. Spiritual direction, coming alongside those seeking to grow in intimacy with God, is an important but often neglected part of ministry. If practised at all, it's usually done poorly.

I know I've blogged a lot about Eugene Peterson but I'm going to turn to him again. He believes spiritual direction is one of the central aspects of the pastoral vocation. He also believes its an uncommon part of church life. In his book Working the Angles: The Shape of Pastoral Integrity, Peterson describes several bad examples of spiritual direction from George Fox's Journal. In the end, Peterson describes the heart of good spiritual direction by pastors saying, "...there must be a predisposition toward prayer, a readiness for prayer. Spiritual direction is then conducted with an awareness that it takes place in God's active presence, and that our conversation is therefore condition by his speaking and listening, his being there" (p. 192).

I've sensed God's being there in times when I meet with my spiritual directors. It's something I want to cultivate in my own ministry as I provide that sort of prayerful space for others to discern God's speaking and listening. It's a beautiful grace wise directors have given me and I'm hoping to pass that gift along to others.

"Pastoral work requires a small community"

I wrapped up listening to the Mars Hills podcast this week. In the midst of swirling thoughts and lamenting over that community's rise and fall, another large church scandal hit the headlines. Only days ago the teaching pastor of a large, well known, Ontario church resigned due to an abuse of authority and sexual harassment; what he called an "adulterous relationship". Now, this church joins Mars Hill, Willow Creek, Harvest Bible Chapel, and countless other megachurches that have said goodbye to their pastors because those same leaders' ethics and values were at odds with the Good News they preached.

I'm not surprised. It reminds me of something Eugene Peterson wrote in his July 2, 1990 journal entry, captured in his authorized biography, A Burning In My Bones, by Winn Collier. Pastor Eugene penned himself a dire warning about unencumbered church growth:

I'm about to be dogmatic on one detail in this: good, authentic, pastoral work--the working out of vocational holiness--cannot be done in a large congregation. It requires a small community. "Big" introduces dynamics and perceptions that destroy intimacies. I am willing to concede occasional exceptions--but only in exceptions--never as models. We must repudiate the desirability of the large congregation and the so-called professional staff. 500 is top number. (Collier, 194)

Did you catch that part in the middle? "Perceptions that destroy intimacies". The bigger a church grows, the more power becomes consolidated in a smaller group of people who make big decisions in order to prevent expansion constraints. That smaller group of people allow the leader to isolate himself (I thought about writing him/herself but I am not aware of any female megachurch pastors who have been in this situation) from those who may otherwise challenge them. Without those who challenge, the isolated leader starts to believe they "deserve" to be treated differently or they are allowed to take liberties that others cannot or should not. Their perception about themselves and their churches gets skewed. Intimacy with real people erodes and, well, you know how the rest of the story unfolds.

I had the opportunity to pastor a church of close to 500 people and recently my wife and I co-pastored a much smaller church. Both had their celebrations and challenges. Usually the challenges came in the form of resistance. Getting resistance and push back feels deflating. Sometimes humiliating. But I'm grateful for those who resisted, pushed back, and made my life difficult. They were God's gifts to me and the church. While it was difficult to see at the time, I see how important they were in my vocational holiness. They kept me humble and made me holy. And, as I rubbed them the wrong way, I may have been helping some of them become more holy too. Spiritual growth happens when pastor and people worship in this environment. It may be difficult but so is the way of the cross. This sort of tension is not a great way to grow a church numerically but it keeps a pastor and a church humble. And, according to Jesus and the Scriptures, humility isn't a bad attribute to aim for.  

Thanks Eugene and Jan!