"One truth: that the mind is below truth, not above it, and is bound, not to descant upon it, but to venerate it; that truth and falsehood are set before us for the trial of our hearts." ~Bl. John Henry Newman
In terms of spiritual direction, I've spent the last ten years or so finding it in books. My education was largely classical (thanks to dearest mum), so those books have Deo gratias been classics: Therese, Teresa, John of the Cross, Dubay, de Sales, and other various names that pop up on this blog regularly.
Finding a regular spiritual director, however, has not been a successful venture. Jen over at Conversion Diary had a beautiful post last January that kicked me in that direction again. For about two weeks. Then, as per usual, I resumed my leisurely and most rational excuses, "Well, this just isn't the right time of life for me to be doing this. It would take too much time away from home. You know." I'm already so obsessed with this religion thing--family members think I'm like that obnoxious Jewish aunt who keeps every darnned tenet of the Law to the T.
But the nagging thought remains: "Can I really do this on my own?" It's simply not Scriptural to forge ahead into the vast stretches of my Interior Castle's endless rooms and mansions. I committed myself to more spiritual reading, and that was wonderful. Casual conversations with friends advanced in the spiritual life have also provided great insight and held me accountable to various commitments. Questions still pop up, though: How does this apply to my life? Is this dry period from God or a result of selfishness? What attachments are holding me back?
Then two days ago my mother handed me Thomas Dubay's Seeking Spiritual Direction. Talk about another kick in the pants. Perhaps most helpful so far (I'm only about half-way through) is simply hearing that the thirst for intimacy with God should be the driving thirst of my life. No matter what anyone in your life says, however they perceive your passion, the overpowering desire for Him and for holiness is our common vocation.
Dubay quotes John Henry Newman extensively. Here, Newman describes the life of mediocrity: "They have a certain definite and clear view of their duties; they think that the summit of perfection is to be decent and respectable in their calling, to enjoy moderately the pleasures of life, to eat and drink, marry and give in marriage, and buy and sell, and plant and build, and to take care that religion does not engross them." This worldview, however, makes no eternal sense. The bottom line is that we all have a final destination, so our progress to that final destination ought to take precedence over and inform our other various goals and pleasures (many of which are perfectly legitimate and even helpful toward teh final resting place).
In other words, I think it's time to get more serious: "With all my heart I seek your face." (Psalm 119:10) That means exhausting every avenue, every resource, in pursuit of the divine lover.
As summer winds down (although here in the Deepest South we can expect another month of triple digits), I cast my mind back over the reading riches it offered. I missed out on the reading binge last year, since Isabella was still nursing three times per night. This year was different. Here is a quick list of this year's favorites.
1. The Cypresses Believe in God (Jose Maria Gironella) Definitely the top read this summer. I reviewed it back in July, and it certainly merits another mention.
2.Seeking Spiritual Direction (Fr. Thomas Dubay) This one also gets a double (I think at this point it is a triple) shout-out. I'm waltzing slowly to the end and will say more when I'm done, but for now it continues to be one of the best spiritual guide books I've read (right up there with Fire Within, He Leadeth Me, I Believe in Love, and Teresa's Castles).
3. Nuns and Soldiers(Iris Murdoch) I started this because I studied Murdoch in a virtue ethics course once. I enjoyed her Sovereignty of the Good, a philosophical work, and thought to foray into her fiction a little. I enjoyed the first half and then started to feel pretty dragged down. The characters were interesting and well-crafted (they certainly seemed to take on a life of their own, even to the point of getting away from Murdoch's control). I think a huge problem for her characters is their slavery to Murdoch's own metaphysics, which basically says that you can get rid of God but not the Good. As Alan Jacobs wrote in First Things:
"Murdoch is a Platonist, to a degree and with a purity almost unknown in modern thought: it is the Good that she seeks, the Idea or Form of the Good. (Platonist thought requires the frequent use of capital letters.) All else, including God, is an image or a substitute for this utter Good, and may be useful to us as we move toward perfection; but because our human tendency is to substitute the image for the reality, the guidepost for the destination, even the worship of God may distract us from our proper pursuit."
Her characters are busy for most of the novel moving through various images of the Good in order to get at the true and pure Good. The problem is, of course, death. Because... if there ain't anything after, there ain't anything now. Bleak. But a good illustration of how a philosophy can influence fiction.
4. Shadows on the Rock(Willa Cather) On the other hand, here is fiction that does not drag down everything we know. If Murdoch is a Platonist, Cather is an Aristotelian. She receives the world as it is--in all its awe-striking particularities. I loved this book in particular because it moves from her usual venue (the prairies) to Colonial Quebec. Her descriptions of the world's natural beauty are without peer.
5. Before I Go: Letters to Our Children About What Really Matters(Peter Kreeft) This is excellent vacation or bed-time reading. Kreeft's various little snippets address the big questions in language even I can understand. If you're looking for some good brain and soul food--for you or your (older) children, this is it.
6. St. Edith Stein: Essential Writings(ed. John Sullivan) The title really says it all. I quoted Stein, and the excerpt was an excerpt from this volume. I love the way Sullivan brings together her myriad virtues--philosophical depth, spiritual vision, educational prowess, and of course her personal love of every human person. It is a beautiful portrait of a remarkable saint.
Continuing on this spiritual direction theme, I must admit my greatest concern is obedience. I firmly believe in the importance of obedience. One of the main attractions of spiritual direction is the opportunity to further exercise that "obedience unto death."
But in the practical world, how do I find someone with the authority worthy of such obedience? In the confessional, I have found many priests who give great advice ("You should make at least one act of charity toward your husband before he leaves for work every morning." Amen.). I have had very bad advice in the confessional ("Oh, that's not so bad! You really shouldn't worry about it." OR "Well, you're a poor student. Stealing stamps from work is really very understandable."). And so, I obey their advice only upon consideration, not out of obedience to their authority (unless, of course, they prescribe a certain action as my penance).
There are clear cases when one should not obey advice--for example, when the director is unfaithful to the Scriptures or the mind of the Church. Then you must find a different guide.
It would be wrong, however, to disregard a director's advice simply because he contradicts what I want to do. This would point to a lack of will on my part to convert my heart, to allow it to be led "where I do not want to go."
How do you recognize the director who will lead you where you would not go on your own, but at the same time may be obeyed with trust and confidence? Dubay gives an impressive, but nonetheless helpful description of the ideal director:
1. a prayerful person who takes seriously both liturgical worship and contemplation 2. one who thinks "with the Church" and is known for ecclesial fidelity 3. one with an adequate theological education (if not formal, then at least years of extensive reading and serious reflection) 4. one with sound judgment 5. a man (or woman) with an understanding of psychology that enables him/her to recognize when a problem is more psychological or neurotic than spiritual 6. one to whom the directee readily relates and with whom she is at ease.
I feel a little like the astonished disciples, "Lord, who then can be saved?" Or, rather, who then can qualify? It is a daunting list, but not an impossible one. As St. Francis de Sales reminds us, God will provide what we need in order to find Him: "Besides all this beg the Most High to guide your steps in the truth." (Sirach 37:19)
The NC Register and EWTN broke the news that Fr. Thomas Dubay, SM, (a Marist) passed away over the September 25th-s6th weekend. (It takes us a while here to get the Catholic news...) 
