So, I've been under the weather for the past week or so. It started with a rapid decline on Monday, followed by a solid day of sleeping on the couch, snuffling into those lotion-infused tissues (which don't seem to forestall a red nose, by the way) and watching back to back episodes of a certain television show starring Nathan Fillion. Each morning thereafter, I've woken up praying and hoping that I'd been feeling at least a little better. Each morning, I've been disappointed. And the irony of it all, I've protested to friends and family, is that I got sick the day after my two-week sabbatical ended. Why couldn't I have gotten sick before now, I wondered aloud.

Wednesday dawned, and I really wasn't any better. Frustrated and fidgety, I did my best to get some editing work done before my body demanded another nap to facilitate the healing process. And then this lovely post arrived in my inbox, written by my friend and fellow spiritual director Monica.

Monica's words were the very psalm I needed for this string of sick days. While Monica was describing the struggle of transitioning from a busy work environment to a more contemplative, hidden way of life, my heart was reminded that my own frustration with being sick was born less out of wanting to get back to work (which I absolutely love) and more out of a need to prove that I'm somehow being productive after a two-week sabbatical. After all, if all I have to "show" for two weeks off is this cold, what good did it do me?

Ah, how quickly I fall prey to that horrid temptation to believe it's all up to me. How often I resist God's tender, slow work, instead of surrendering to His healing work in my life. As Monica wrote,"Fruit happens to you; it’s not something that you make happen directly."

So, instead of trying to fight my way back to healthy, I'm going to curl up on the couch once again. I'll take naps, drink tea, blow my nose a lot and probably watch too much of the Food Network. But I'll be surrendered to the healing work going on in me, and that's what really matters.

I met Chris Webb nearly four years ago at a retreat in the mountains of Colorado. At the time, he was wearing Franciscan robes, which I thought was both kind of cool and very intimidating. As you'll soon see, though, Chris is anything but intimidating. A warm, generous man with a depth of wisdom that I aspire to, Chris is gifted with both humor and insight (plus, he has a great Welsh accent and can pronounce the longest Welsh word.) In addition to his other roles, Chris has recently changed robe color and is a member of the Grey Robe Benedictines.

Chris's first book, The Fire of the Word, was released by IVP in December. As a thank you to Chris and to you, I'll be giving away two copies of The Fire of the Word to two folks who comment on the blog with an answer to this question: What do you most want to know about the practice of spiritual direction? You can only comment once (but you can get your friends to comment for you), and comments will be closed by Saturday, January 21. The winners will be picked by random number generation and will be contacted by email on Monday, January 23.

Introduce yourself to the Anam Cara readers. Who are you? Where do you live? What do you do other than spiritual direction?

I'm Chris Webb and I live in Castle Rock, CO. That's not my home town, though - not even close! I moved to the US four years ago from Wales where I was an Anglican parish priest. Now I'm President of Renovaré, a spiritual formation ministry based in south Denver. 

What brought you to the ministry of spiritual direction?

My years of parish ministry. In local church ministry you very quickly come to understand that shaping a rich and authentic life in Christ requires fitting together a number of different elements. One, of course, is simply acquiring information about the faith, which we typically do through preaching, teaching, study groups, and reading. Another is growing in our experiential knowledge of God through worship, prayer, the sacraments, and life together in community. Many of our churches stop there: if you understand God and have opportunities to meet with God, what more do you need? But I think there are at least two more crucial elements: reflection on our experience of God, and receiving the guidance of others on the journey. That's what we get in spiritual direction: a chance to meditate on the story as it unfolds, and to allow another person to help us identify the presence of Christ in it. 

Why do you think spiritual direction is valuable?

I think I'd want to say direction is more than valuable - I've come to believe it's essential. Developing a life of prayer is like voyaging into a strange and wonderful land - without a guide we're almost certain to get lost. John of the Cross said that he wrote The Dark Night of the Soul to help beginners to progress quickly into the depths of prayer; that sounds like something many of us might want to do. And he was insistent that this required direction, the guidance of another. I'm convinced he was right. 

What’s your favorite thing about being a spiritual director?

The astounding privilege of hearing another's story of faith, and watching their prayer grow. 

What question about spiritual direction do you get asked the most? (And/or what question do you wish you got asked?)

"Where can I find a spiritual director?" is easily the most common. There are more people seeking guidance than there are people willing to provide it. And I'm fairly sure that the rapid professionalization of this ministry isn't helping. I'm not against having trained directors! But the proliferation of courses, degrees, and accrediting bodies has created the impression that only those with years of study and a collection of impressive certificates on their wall can really give direction. That's a profound mistake. 

You were just given a yacht. What would you name it?

"Useless". I live a thousand miles from the ocean! Can I trade it in for plane tickets? Then I'd take my family to India for a few weeks, which has always been a dream of mine. 

Give us your life story in 6 words.

I can do it in four. "Mostly surprising so far ..." 

Okay, you can have more than 6 words. Share your full bio.

I spent my childhood in a variety of different places in Britain before heading off to college at Aberystwyth (on the west Wales coast) to study Planetary and Space Physics. That led somewhat surprisingly into ordained ministry in the Church in Wales - it's a long story. I served in various urban and rural parishes, including a stint with a church for the homeless, a church under the shadow of a steelworks, a parish in the stockbroker-belt of south Wales, and a remote sheep-farming district. It was nothing if not varied! In the middle of all that I wound up working for the denomination which involved, among other things, training missionaries in Nepal, running a meditative labyrinth at arts festivals, and co-ordinating meetings of our diocesan exorcists. Almost twenty years ago I married Sally, who to this day remains the most beautiful woman I know, and our four children have added a necessary dose of craziness into our lives. Then four years ago we were all invited to come over to the US so I could head up Renovaré, which has been a fabulous experience. Since I left school expecting to become a physicist plodding away in a lab in Britain somewhere, this has all been somewhat unexpected. 

Anything you’d like to add?   

Sure! I have a book that just came out with IVP in December; it's called The Fire of the Word and looks at ways of reading Scripture that lead us deeper into an experiential knowledge of God. So please do buy it! And then, if you want to contact me and share your thoughts, you can email me at chris@renovare.us.

Now, where's that yacht...?

* * *

Want to hear Chris talk a little more about The Fire of the Word? Watch this YouTube video here. 

Would you like to win a copy of The Fire of the Word? As a thank you to Chris and to you, I'll be giving away two copies of The Fire of the Word to two folks who comment on the blog with an answer to this question: What do you most want to know about the practice of spiritual direction?You can only comment once (but you can get your friends to comment for you), and comments will be closed by Saturday, January 21. The winners will be picked by random number generation and will be contacted by email on Monday, January 23.

If you've been around the fields of spiritual formation or spiritual direction long enough (or even if you've just started to get familiar with them), you'll have noticed that the language around the practice of spiritual direction is, well, a little bit squishy. Unlike many other disciplines or professional vocations, spiritual direction seems to use vauge terms and to either lack goals completely or have goals that feel somewhat undefined. What does "grow in prayer" really mean, anyway?

While I'm not in favor of turning spiritual direction into an analytical exercise, I would like to demystify both spiritual direction and spiritual directors a little bit. Which means rigorously dragging spiritual direction from the realm of the esoteric and amorphous down into the realm of the practical and tangible.

So, over the next few months, I'd like to invite you on a journey. The first part of that journey will be an introduction to some of the people I'm blessed to call friends. Every Wednesday, I'll introduce you to someone who's a spiritual director just like me—and, paradoxically, not like me at all.

Each of these directors will be someone I know personally, and would recommend heartily as a director. I'll be sharing them with you for several reasons. First, you came to this site for a reason. Whether it's to find a spiritual director of your own, an interest in the practice of spiritual direction or to learn more about the spiritual journey, you're here, and I'm glad that you are. What I want you to know is that I, Tara Owens, am not the only face of spiritual direction out there. I practice a particular style and flavor of direction (which I've talked about a bit here). But my personality, my style, my practice may not be the best fit for you. I want you to know that there are lots of incredible options out there—people who practice local to you, or at a distance—and I'd like you to meet some of my favorites.

Second, I want to emphasize that the spiritual journey is deeply personal—which means that it connects to particular people. Each director has journeyed with God for a significant amount of their lives, and they have insights to share that are learnings from their own path. Also, I think it's good for you to hear how other people define the practice of spiritual direction.

Finally, I'm going to be sharing a little bit more about my personal journey as a spiritual director and follower of Jesus. I'll be talking about what brought me to spiritual direction, why *I* have a spiritual director, and some of my own struggles as I follow my own path with God. That feels pretty vulnerable, but I think it matters a great deal in the pursuit of keeping things real here at Anam Cara.

So, what kinds of things would you like to see talked about? What questions do you have? What would you like to know more about? Share with me...

In order for me to write this post at all, I've got to start with a confession.

So, here goes...

I like Anthropologie. 

I know that this, in and of itself, is not inherently either good or evil. However, I'm well aware that my pocketbook (such a lovely, old-fashioned word, isn't it?) makes shopping at Anthropologie an event as common as a Yeti-sighting. Which means that every time I open the Anthropologie catalogue, I'm wilfully, consciously choosing to participate in two sins that the ancients liked to call deadly: greed and envy.

In these past few weeks, I've made a concerted effort to cut down on the inputs in my life that tempt me toward those passions in my own life and heart. In order to simplify my daily routine, I've unsubscribed to nearly 10 different sets of correspondences that I used to receive in my email—daily, weekly or monthly. Even if the topic was ostensibly "spiritual", if I haven't read it or benefited from it in some way in the past two weeks, I've triggered that tragic little screen on my browser that seems to have the same little message each time: We're sad to see you go. If, at any time, you should wish to return to SUBSCRIBER LIST WHATEVER, please feel free to change your preferences in your account settings.

Honestly, I doubt anyone has felt a pang of sadness that I've left their subscriber list. Even if there was a pang of something, some emotion that smacked of regret, I'm willing to bet that it was due to a decline in overall subscriber numbers, rather than a feeling that a relational connection has been lost. 

Somehow, in my ruthless whittling of my list, I seem to have ended up on Anthropologie's email newsletter. I'm not sure how that happened, and it will go the way of the rest of them after today, but I was actually grateful to receive the image that popped up in today's correspondence.

When I opened the pane, there stood a woman in a flowing, romantic skirt and blouse set. Dappled in sunlight, seemingly at rest, her eyes were closed in—what? contemplation? delight? desire? And beside her were the words, Shaped With Grace.

I'm not entirely sure that Anthropologie meant to make a theological statement in their email campaign, but at that moment, God stepped in with His characteristic kindness and humor. 

What does it look like to be shaped with My grace, beloved

What a thrilling question. What does it look like to be a man or woman shaped with grace, living day to day enfolded not in sillk or chiffon or dappled sunlight, but by the grace of a God who loves you beyond reason, beyond rationality, beyond your failings and your sins, beyond everything you have ever done or ever will do?

I don't think I need to shop at Anthopologie to get that look. I think I need more of Jesus. More of His love, His laughter, His playfulness and His character. I need more moments when I am enraptured by the Love of the King, the One who chose me, and who chooses me again, anew, each morning.

And that's something worth subscribing to.

In looking through papers today, I found this poem. Perhaps it found me. Either way, I was encouraged to stillness and silence. I pray you are, as well.

Stone

By Charles Simic

Go inside a stone

That would be my way.

Let somebody else become a dove

Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.

I am happy to be a stone.

From the outside the stone is a riddle.

No one knows how to answer it.

Yet within, it must be cool and quiet.

Even though a cow steps on it full weight,

Even though a child throws it in a river;

The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed

To the river bottom

Where the fishes come to knock on it

And listen.

I have seen sparks fly out

When two stones are rubbed,

So perhaps there is a moon shining

From somewhere, as though behind a hill—

Just enough light to make out

The strange writings, the star-charts

On the inner walls.

It's about that time of year when my heart starts its gentle turn toward Advent. It's the end of the 31st week of Ordinary Time, and slowly, quietly I'm feeling the stirrings of the desire for the extraordinary.

Like most of us, though, I am aware that my heart's stirrings need to be tended carefully. Guarded even. It's so easy to slip from a deep desire for the extraordinariness of God to a consumerist desire simply for something, anything extraordinary. Something to give me a spiritual high, without requiring anything of me. To make me go oooh, ahhhhh and leave me totally unchanged.

The Church Fathers and Mothers knew about this tendency, this infinitisimal shift that sometimes happens within us when our God is kindling our hearts and our habits of fallenness want to take over. That's where the disciplines and the beauty of Advent provide a generous, gentle structure to guide us toward our desires, toward God.

Advent starts "early" this year. Since Christmas falls on a Sunday (glorious feast day!), the march of the Sundays before Christmas begins on November 27, the Sunday after American Thanksgiving. I've already been asked by a few directees which resources I might recommend to tend the flickering wicks of their hearts into the flame of God this Christmas season.

And so, today's Friday Favorite. 

God With Us: Rediscovering the Meaning of Christmas is one of my beloved resources for the Advent journey. My husband and I have walked through it together for these past four years, and both of our copies are well-thumbed with prayer. Not only does it walk through each day of Advent, with Scripture readings and stunning artwork, but it also explains the history and the depth of the feast days during this season, from the Feast of St. Nicholas (December 6) to the Feast of the Holy Innocents (December 28), and everything before and betwixt.

Plus, look at the authors:

Scott Cairns is the author of six poetry collections, including Compass of Affection. He is Professor of English at the University of Missouri, and a recent Guggenheim Fellow.

Emilie Griffin is the author of Doors Into Prayer, Turning, and Wonderful and Dark is This Road.

Richard John Neuhaus is a Catholic priest and one of the leading voices on religion and culture in America. He is the founder and editor of the journal First Things.

Kathleen Norris is an award-winning poet and bestselling author of Dakota: A Spiritual Geography and The Cloister Walk.

Eugene Peterson is a pastor, author, and professor emeritus of theology at Regent College. He is the author of the popular paraphrase of the Bible, The Message.

Luci Shaw is a poet and writer-in-residence at Regent College in Vancouver.

Editor Gregory Wolfe is writer-in-residence and director of the Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program at Seattle Pacific University and the founder and editor of Image. Greg Pennoyer is the co-founder of the Centre for Cultural Renewal in Ottawa, Canada, and the Project Director for Incarnation: A Recovery of Meaning, an international art exhibition.

So, if you're looking for a resource, a guide, an tending for this Advent—look no further. And if you order it now, you'll be sure to receive it in time to start the first reading on November 27. I'll join you. 

Just because the tide has gone out doesn't mean there is less water.

In a flurry of liturgical activity, the past few days in the Church calendar have been full of feasts and commemorations. Many of these days may be unfamiliar and perhaps even disconcerting to those who have grown up without any exposure to the Church Calendar and the practice of commemorating the lives of those who have gone before us.

The commemoration of the Feast of All Souls is further problematic for Protestants, as this is a day set aside to purposefully pray for the souls of the dead. This practice is familiar to those who have grown up in the Catholic tradition, based on the text of II Maccabees and the Catechism of the Roman Catholic Church. This tradition holds that after death, our souls spend time in a place called Purgatory, where we do penance for the sins committed on Earth in order to be purified for our reception into eternal life in Heaven.

Whether or not you hold to Catholic tradition, though, All Souls can be a deeply meaningful time of reflecting on those in our lives who have passed before us. It can be a time of reflecting on the gifts that they have given us, or even a releasing of the pains and abuses of the past in an extension of forgiveness that unburdens us from carrying them with us in our daily lives.

I've also seen how All Souls can be a beautiful commemoration of those children who have gone before us, unnamed and unknown, lost to abortion or miscarriage. 

Consider stepping past the aspects of All Souls that seem unusual or uncertain to you and leaning into a commemoration of both life and death. As St. Benedict suggests, we should have death daily before us. Not in a morbid or obsessive manner, but in a way that inspires us to live lives of love, joy and peace in this moment.

If you're interested, here are a few prayers that can be prayed today. You might also think about visiting a cemetary (which isn't as dark or frightening as it sounds—did you know the Mount of Olives where Jesus spent his last night before His Passion is a large cemetary?), or praying for those in your community who are slowly or rapidly dying without family or friends around them.

• • •

O God, the Maker and Redeemer of all believers:
Grant to the faithful departed the unsearchable benefits of the passion of your Son;
that on the day of his appearing they may be manifested as your children;
through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and ever. Amen

source: TEC IUSA

Merciful God,
your Son is the resurrection and the life
of all the faithful;
raise us from the death of sin
to the life of righteousness
that at the last,
with all your faithful servants,
we may come to your eternal joy;
through our Saviour Jesus Christ
[who is alive with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit
one God, now and for ever]

NZPB p.689
The above prayer is a revision of a 1549 collect for the funeral Eucharist.
Cranmer probably borrowed it from a collect in the Dirige in Bishop Hilsey’s Primer of 1539. Cf. the 1552 & 1662 final prayer in the Burial Service. Also Alternative Service Book (CofE) p834. Commemoration of the Faithful Departed. cf. ASB p612 Collect for Easter 3. NB Jn 11:25f

Father of all,
we pray to you for those we love, but see no longer.
Grant them your peace,
let light perpetual shine upon them,
and in your loving wisdom and almighty power,
work in them the good purpose of your perfect will;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

Book of Alternative Services (Anglican Church of Canada) p.429

In the Western church calendar, today, November 1, is All Saint's Day. Traditionally know as Hallowmas (hallows meaning saints and mass being the service or celebration) or All Hallows, the evening before came to be known as All Hallows Eve, or Halloween. 

These days, more people know about the evening before the celebration than the celebration itself.

So, what is All Saint's Day? Originally established more than a thousand years ago, All Saint's is a day dedicated to the people of God—past, present and future. Although attention is focused on those saints who have gone before (see yesterday's post on 'Why Dead People Matter'), there is a real celebration of the great cloud of witnesses of which the current Church is a part. 

Today, we recognize that we have inherited a great legacy in the lives of those who have lived faithfully and well before us. We humbly admit that we cannot go it alone. And we gratefully give thanks that God never meant us to.

If you'd like, consider praying one or both of these prayers at least once during the day today.

Almighty God, 
who hast knit together thine elect
in one communion and fellowship
in the mystical body of Your Son, Christ our Lord:
Give us grace so to follow Your blessed saints
in all virtuous and godly living,
that we may come
to those ineffable joys
that thou hast prepared for those
who unfeignedly love thee;
through the same Jesus Christ our Lord,
who with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth,
one God, in glory everlasting. Amen

Book of Common Prayer, 1979

Father, All-Powerful and ever-living God,
today we rejoice in the holy men and women
of every time and place.
May their prayers bring us your forgiveness and love
We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Liturgy of the Hours

Around the world today, men, women and children are donning costumes ranging from cute to creepy. Halloween is now the second largest holiday after Christmas, and, whatever your beliefs, whatever your perspective on this day, you will be hard-pressed not to encounter one or more costumed undoubtedly darling tot asking you for a “trick or treat!”

While there are a variety of valid reasons for both participating and choosing not to participate in the more popular Halloween traditions (wearing costumes, trick-or-treating), there is one thing that I think the day helps me to remember: the importance of dead people.

When I say ‘dead people’, I’m not talking about zombies, vampires or any other versions of the undead that you’ll see in costume and on the screen (TV or movie) today. It may be easy to get fascinated with the macabre or frightening—and there is some sociological evidence that zombies are tapping into a certain post-modern angst that we all feel [note to sensitive readers, there are some zombie pictures in that link]—but I think there something uplifting to be found in focusing on dead people, without the gore and guts.

You see, most of us are addicted to the new, the current, the popular. If you’ve ever been overcome by a desire for the newest device, the latest fashion or even a desire to visit the new restaurant in town despite the fact that you hate Mexican, you know what I mean. Popular culture pushes us toward what’s “this minute”, relegating yesterday’s experiences into the place of the passé, the uncool. If you own an Apple product of any kind, you’ve felt the dejection of having whatever your newest thing is surpassed by the next-newest.

And that’s why I like dead people. Dead people aren’t interested in keeping up appearances, aren’t up on the latest trends, and really don’t care if you have the most recent do-dad. On top of that, most of the dead people who have written things down have lots of really wise things to say about the spiritual life and how to live well with God (before and after you die.)

If you’d like a primer, Renovaré just came out with a wonderful compilation of writings by dead people—being dead was, in fact, one of the criteria for being included in the book. It’s called 25 Books Every Christian Should Read, and despite its somewhat intimidating title it is a great entrée into the spiritual classics. There are 25 entries, each with a small excerpt of important writings of really smart (you guessed it) dead people. There’s some history of what the person did before they were dead, and some helpful thoughts and questions for reflection.

Alternately, you can do what I did which was slog, ahem, suffer, ahem, swing through a semester’s worth of the spiritual classics in seminary. Personally, I think picking up 25 Books and learning which of the dead people you’re most drawn to is a better idea. Then pick up a full-length version of their works and get to know them a little more deeply. Dead people can be a lot of fun.