Fr. Joseph J. Kelly | Homiletic & Pastoral Review
Good and regular spiritual direction can help us work through some of the natural and dangerous currents in the spiritual life. By trusting God to redirect us and keep us afloat, he will help us navigate back to the solid ground of God’s presence.
Remember the joke about the Exodus? “Why did Moses and the Israelites wander 40 years in the desert?” The answer: “Because men hate to ask for directions!”
As a priest, who has been involved in the ministry of spiritual direction for more than half of my 33 years as a priest, I believe that the joke is on us. Although there are many reasons why priests do not continue in spiritual direction after ordination—i.e., time and availability of spiritual directors, to name a few—I am convinced that seeking out and receiving regular, one-on- one, spiritual direction is a graced relationship, worthy of our time and trust.
I would like to begin with a personal story that can serve as a paradigm of how regular, in-person, spiritual direction can act as a relational life preserver for us who are drawn, here and there, by the demands of contemporary ministry and the challenge of relationships.
Once, while vacationing on an Island in the Atlantic, I was informed that a hurricane was on a direct path toward the island. The next morning, I decided to go to the beach early, taking in some sun and bathing in the ocean, before the storm made landfall. That decision almost cost me my life. I learned, especially, to respect riptides: a strong current, opposing other currents, running parallel to the seashore.
With the sun shining and the waves kicking up, I noticed that surfers were out, so I dove in, unconcerned for my safety, swimming about ten yards off-shore. Suddenly, I was caught up in a riptide, rapidly drawing me toward a large formation of rock jutting out from the shore. Driven by a rush of adrenaline, I panicked and began swimming for the shore with all my strength. But the tide was stronger than I was; the tide had me in its control. The fear of crashing into the rocks was overtaking me, and I prayed: “God help me. Please!” From within came a voice—a memory that I recall to this day as being firm and clear—“Go with the rip.”
I let go. I stopped swimming, letting the tide carry me closer and closer to the rocks. Ten yards from the rock formation, the riptide suddenly let me go. I was free to swim ashore.
There is a current that runs in the spiritual life of a Christian, a current below the surface of human experience which moves the heart like no other. Jesus describes this inner reality of the believer this way:
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