Need for Spiritual Direction
My name is Pontius Pilate. I am the Roman Governor of Judea. I have great authority and power granted to me by Rome. One time during my tenure, I had the responsibility to be the judge and jury of this Jew named Jesus Christ. He was accused of high crimes, including treason and sedition.
He entered my headquarters and I had the doors closed. He remained quiet. “Are you the king of the Jews?” I asked. The answer I got back was not what I had expected. I had anticipated a plea for mercy or an angry denunciation of Rome, but instead he stated very calmly, “My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But my kingdom is not from here.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “So, you ARE a king, then?” I said. “You are right in saying that I am a king,” Jesus replied. Okay, I thought to myself, now we are getting somewhere! But then he continued: “In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me.”
“Everyone on the side of truth listens to me!” What kind of gibberish was that? At that statement I chalked him off as deluded, even arrogant.
I did not see it then, but I now recognize that that was my invitation—my invitation to listen to him, to join him, to follow him, to align myself with the truth.
But I dismissed him with a cynical, “What is truth?” Did I think there was a right answer? I don’t know! If there was, I didn’t really want to hear it. I figured I could just choose whatever truth I found convenient. I turned my back on him and left the room.
In looking back on that night, I find the irony of it all was that I thought I was putting some poor Jew on trial. But, in reality, he wasn’t the DEFENDANT—he was the WITNESS. I was the one on trial … on trial before the Truth, a Truth I could not (or would not) see.
OK, I just did a little role play as Pilot, but, you know what, sometimes we do more than talk like Pilot, sometimes we actually act like Pilot.
Sometimes, when we are confronted with the Truth of Christ, we, like Pilot, either do not understand it, OR, if we do understand it, we do not want to accept it. So we deny it or just dismiss it as irrelevant. And we can do that as long as we are held accountable only by ourselves. Like Pilot, if we are the sole judge, we can rationalize our way to where we want to be and there is no one to challenge us.
Many of us in the Western world are very private people. We consider ourselves self-made. We pride ourselves on our independence. We are islands of self-sufficiency! With this sense of pride, we often paint ourselves into a box, similar to Pilot, and then we wonder why we find ourselves unwilling or unable to make the choices we know are the right ones to make. Rather than do what is right, we yield to the will of the crowd, or to the influence of sin.
And after doing this, we sometimes find ourselves feeling like Paul when he said in his letter to the Romans, “What am I doing? I do not practice what I would like to do, but rather I am doing the very thing I wish not to do. Instead of doing the good I want, I do the very evil that I do not want.”
Have you ever found yourself in this state of frustration? I have! When we are like this, what is it that will make us see the truth? What does it take for us to transform the truth that is in our heads to truth as action, as truth embedded in and played out as a way of life?
What we DO NOT need is more evidence – we have heard the truth dozens of times; we are convinced that Jesus lived, was the Son of God, died, rose, and yet sometimes we just can not bring ourselves to entrust our lives completely to Him. There is often some thing, some area in our life, some corner of our heart that we withhold from Him. What will it take for us to let go of control of that area and give it over to Christ?
Sometimes, this is where our faith community comes in. Our Catholic faith is a lived experience, and not a lived experience as an individual, but one as community. Sometimes, to see Christ’s truth, it takes opening our lives to others. But that has its risks!
As Catholics we are one body. Each part, and every one, needs the support of the others to carry on, to succeed in this struggle before us. We are called to share, to communicate, to truly love one another, in community -- with a forgiving, selfless, involved love.
We can be well served in our pursuit of Truth by calling on the wisdom and guidance of others in our faith community who truly want to help us. Ours is a journey of community, a journey in which it is absolutely necessary to make ourselves vulnerable in order to see the truth. This is sometimes uncomfortable, but it is necessary.
How many times have we attempted to compromise with the truth rather than accept it and do what is right -- wanting to follow Jesus, but afraid of really turning control of our lives over to Him? We are too often afraid of what might be asked of us, or what we might have to give up.
We can out fox ourselves, but it is more difficult to out fox another trusted person within our faith community. Truth as applied to our own lives can often better be seen by another than it can be seen by us.
The question up for judgment, insists Jesus, is whether or not one accepts Him, truth incarnate – truth in the flesh. Pilate stood in the shadows. He did not even understand the question. Where do you stand? Do you need someone outside yourself to help you understand and accept God’s invitation to truth?
That “someone” could be your spouse, a trusted friend, a faith sharing group, or a spiritual director. That “someone” could be Father in the confessional. Getting a perspective outside your own is helpful. We need to remain open to truth by not only listening to our consciences, but also by seeking advice from others. Making our journey of faith one which recognizes the value of community, not only moves us along, it supports and nourishes others.
Now let's go back to my role playing as Pilate.
As I sent this man named Christ to His death, something inside me told me it was the wrong thing to do, but I dismissed those feelings and consented to the wishes of the crowd. Looking back, how I wish I had had someone to consult, to confirm and validate that inner voice. I may have made a better decision. I could have been Christ’s advocate instead of his crucifier.