‘What do you mean you are training to a Spiritual Director?’ I am often asked when trying to explain to people what it means to be a freelance priest. The problem is I’m not exactly sure.

‘Well,’ I reply, ‘It’s sort of prayerful listening’.

‘So, just what you’ve been doing for years as a vicar.’

Yes and no. There have been elements of prayerful listening in all my pastoral work. I have listened to people tell me how they met, how they fell in love, and why it’s important for them to get married in church. I have held a new-born as we discuss its Christening in the church and explored the difference between baptism. I have listened to the horrifics of childbirth, sleepless nights, sibling rivalry, and sometimes even shared my own experiences of motherhood. I have heard the stories of the babies who didn’t make it this far. I have sat with weeping widows and listened to the stories of a loved one who has died, even been entrusted with the background stories that the family don’t want shared, but think I needed to know.

And I have prayed with them. Offering everything I have heard back to God, and assuring the families in front of me that they have been heard, that God has heard them, and values them.

So what is a Spiritual Director, and why do I need extra training to be one?

Margret Guenther has many years of experience as a priest and as a Spiritual Director and as she ponders this question has been ‘playing with images and models’ seeking her own definition.

I was first drawn to her description of a Spiritual Director as host. Holy hospitality is a concept which I have been drawn to for many years, whether that is in the literal state of providing a bed for the night or a meal to share, or indeed a space to be.

The Spiritual Director is a host who gives, the bestower of guest friendship. She is a host in the truest deepest sense, reflecting the abundant hospitality shown by the host at the heavenly banquet.

Holy Listening, Margaret Guenther, p8

As I read through this opening chapter I found myself making notes, nodding in agreement, yes this is who I aim to be in my own practice. The need for silence to begin with, the need to accept everything that is offered in direction as a valuable gift not to be glossed over… I found myself noting down tips: how to prepare the space in which Spiritual Direction is heard, not just the physical space, but the space within the director and the space in time. The need to cultivate a sense of amnesia, for example, so that everything that is shared within the room is kept within the room, within that time and space.

The Biblical image shared here is that of Abraham (and Sarah) receiving travellers in the heat of the day, providing them with water to wash, food to revive, and attention to listen. In the providing of hospitality, Abraham and Sarah were deeply blessed. Guenther reminds me that the directee, the one receiving direction has come a great distance in order to even contemplate beginning direction, but also that director and directee are journeying together.

The second image Guenther ‘plays’ with is that of teacher. It is a more alien concept to me than that of host. I am not a teacher, but have been a school governor, and there are expectations of ‘achievement’ which are marked and measured. In the previous chapter we have explored the difficulty with notetaking, of labelling, of limiting… The Spiritual Director as teacher is not expecting a specific outcome, a learning of some holy times tables that will create a foundation for other lessons. Perhaps if we take the Good Teacher as our example, we can comprehend that teaching is not about filling an empty vessel with our incredible knowledge, but asking the right questions so that our ‘students’ can work out solutions for themselves, or at least help them on their way to a greater understanding.

A good teacher asks questions, but they must be the right questions…I am learning to notice statements that cry out for a clarifying question, especially when the directee is dealing with painful material or on the threshold of a new stage of awareness.

Holy Listening, Margaret Guenther, p67

Guenther then plays with the image of Spiritual Director as Midwife. As she points out, midwifery and childbirth are woven through the Bible in their literal understanding as well as metaphorical. As Christians we are taught that we need to be born again of the Spirit. The role of midwife is one I have experienced, someone with experience and knowledge who comes alongside at a vulnerable and exciting time. A midwife can quite literally see what the mother physically cannot. Their experiences of the same birth are different. With labour there are times of waiting between each contraction, of ‘just being there’, monitoring progress and wellbeing, waiting for the next stage. So too with Spiritual Direction there may be times when nothing seems to be happening. The director keeps company but also reflects back.

The midwife is present to another in a time of vulnerability, working in areas that are deep and intimate. It is a relationship of trust and mutual respect.

Holy Listening, Margaret Guenther, p89

The waiting gives way to Transition, in both childbirth and in Spiritual Direction. Both can be painful and frightening, and there will be times when other experts will need to be called in. The Spiritual Director is not a psychiatrist and needs to be careful not to try and play the role of another specialist. As the one who comes alongside at this time of change it is right to be aware of the directee’s physical and mental needs and make referrals as is appropriate. I am reminded of my limitations, of what I am not and cannot be as a Spiritual Director.

The final chapter considers the role of Women as Spiritual Directors. It is a fascinating piece of feminist writing, but a gear change from what has come before. I am no longer taking learning notes as I train and build my own practice, but am crying from my heart ‘I hear you sister!’. This is good for me to acknowledge, and perhaps to be aware of when holy listening to other women, or indeed anyone who is ‘other’ to the ‘privileged’ white middle class male (to use a current phrase), but it is when Guenther turns the page and writes her Epilogue that I find myself sitting alongside her. This is where I feel called to be:

Spiritual Direction, as a work of love, is also a work of freedom. The director is willing to let be, to love with an open hand. Hers is a contemplative love, immune from temptation to devour, possess or manipulate. Always seeing the other as a child of God, she is filled with respect, even awe, in the presence of the person sitting across the sacred space.

Holy Listening, Margaret Guenther, p145

Reading this slim volume has helped me decipher the difference between having holy conversations as a priest and being a holy listener. Guenther is keen to point out that it is the listening that is holy ‘I am still me’, she says. As a vicar so often there is an agenda, the wedding, the baptism, the funeral…. with Spiritual Direction there is not, at least if there is, it is not known by the director and often not by the directee either.

When applying for the course I am currently taking, I was told that people will just appear, wanting Spiritual Direction. Guenther asks the question ‘How do you know you are ready to be a Spiritual Director?’

The best indication is that people begin to seek you out to talk about their deepest concerns, that they are willing to lay aside their mask when they are with you.

Holy Listening, Margaret Guenther, p70

How do I know that this is where God is leading me? People have begun to seek me out, and I am honoured, deeply honoured, that people are willing to trust me with their valuable time to hold for a while, the space between heaven and earth in which we occupy.