What has now emerged in this book is the distilled wisdom of long experience as a priest, pastor and spiritual director. After drinking deeply himself from the wells of the Tradition, and being fed by them through long and faithful service, John-Francis has now taken up the responsible task of sharing, for the benefit of all making their own journey of faith, the wisdom of the Tradition as he has known it and made it his own.
The Tradition he inherits, distils and passes on is a broadly based one, in which writers and thinkers as various as George Herbert, Maya Angelou and Paul Tillich all have a part to play. But at its heart is the deep hope of humanity this side of eternity, to take the shape which God purposes for each of us, to grow into our true selves, to become the people it is good for us to be.
And within this hope is a sublime paradox: for as our true selves are to be found in Christ alone, and as Christ gave himself up for the sake of others, so to find ourselves is to lose ourselves: ‘We are to engage in a constant finding and letting-go of self; a gifting of self and being utterly present to the Other.’
Realizing these possibilities in ourselves is a matter of Grace, and it is a long pilgrimage. There is much food for the journey in this valuable book: much to ponder on, and much to take hold of. I commend it wholeheartedly, and with particular warmth to those who are themselves on a journey of formation. In these pages they will find a fresh but authentic expression of the tradition that has guided God’s Church for two thousand years.
The cleanest and most wholesome water is often that which has spent years, perhaps centuries or millennia, seeping out of high mountain glaciers and filtering through rock strata, until at last it issues into the open at the foot of a cliff. I encourage readers to draw real refreshment from these wellsprings.
Preface
That in all things, God may be glorified.
(1 Peter 4.11)
***
‘What is that?’ enquired the woman on the train pointing to my clerical collar as we sped towards London. Her English was broken and it transpired she was Chinese, and my efforts to explain the collar, the Church and priesthood came to nothing. Given her cultural background, such matters were outside her understanding, yet her simple question set me on a course of reflection on the nature of priestly identity. Others will tell similar stories of brief yet profound encounters: the prayer offered for someone in the street; the confidence received among the supermarket shelves; the confession heard in a pub – the collar still has power to attract and convey something. But just what is it that we are conveying as we live out our vocation? I wonder if that simple statement by St Jean-Baptiste-Marie Vianney, the Curé d’Ars, is a simple yet powerful reminder of the heart of our calling:
The priesthood is the love of the heart of Jesus.1
The inner life of the priest
This book is concerned with the heart, the inner and often hidden life of a priest. Ministry can be experienced as a never-ending round of ‘doing’ and, in my experience, the need for simply ‘being’ can be neglected – usually to the detriment of minister and ministry. Some have noted an apparent conflict between ‘being’ and ‘doing’, and similar tensions between the dynamics of secular techniques and gospel values, social activism and spirituality, outreach, contemplation, etc. have been noted. While I don’t intend to promote one over the other, experience tells me that if our inner life with God in Christ is ignored or uncared for then, no matter how well things may appear on the surface, there’s likely to be trouble ahead.
Why is this book written?
Much of my ministry now is as a spiritual director and, along with others, I often hear priests say they don’t have enough time for prayer, so I want to explore how those charged with the care of souls can give time to God, not just for their own sake but because if we’re to have a heart for evangelization then we also need a heart that’s exploring the mysteries of God and God’s reign into which we want to draw others.
I think most of us realize how much our inner life determines all that we do, so what’s written here is concerned with exploring various aspects of priestly spirituality, some of which may have been forgotten, or are unknown, but which may be of great help, and throughout the chapters you’ll find a variety of reflections and suggestions about how we can deepen our spiritual life. It isn’t all about prayer, but because some avoid its more reflective form – it isn’t always easy and can seem rather empty – or even fear what they might have to acknowledge in the silence, each chapter invites you, in different ways, to gaze compassionately on your hidden life as God gazes upon you with divine compassion. They also offer some helps along the way.
I also hope the material you’ll find here will help those who have a pastoral care for clergy to consider how their lives set an example of what it means to be a deacon or a priest, regardless of where ministry is exercised. I wonder what example they are setting if they are rarely seen to pray, seek supervision, engage with spiritual direction or go into retreat? Just because priests appear to be doing wonderful things does not mean that they can neglect prayer. In fact quite the reverse: our hearts need to be awake to the mystery of God in all things so that we may glorify God, as the Benedictine motto I used as the sub-title to this Preface says: ‘Ut in Omnibus Glorificetur Dei’ – ‘that in all things God may be glorified’ (1 Peter 4.11).
Who is this book for?
I hope this book might appeal to people from diverse backgrounds and traditions, and to anyone who might like to know what’s going on beneath the role they exercise or see exercised. Reflecting aspects of my own story, it also deals with spiritual direction and pastoral supervision, and it may be of interest to those exercising such ministries as well as those whose priesthood is realized in the workplace.
In writing it, I have become aware that this is probably the book I would like to have read when I was considering ordination. Brought up in a family whose roots lay in non-Conformity and agnostic communism, I chose in my teens to be baptized and confirmed. An interest in the religious life led me to consider joining the Benedictines when I was 20. Later I spent much time with the Carmelite-influenced Sisters of the Love of God at Bede House in Kent, among whom I found, in one of the solitaries, my first spiritual director. But most formative of all were the 25 years I spent as a brother of the Anglican Society of St Francis (SSF), during which I served in kitchens, worked in a prison, ran missions, led youth retreats – and was ordained. My vocation was also informed by that great tradition of Anglican spirituality expressed by people from George Herbert to Michael Ramsey. All this and more (including time with the Coptic Orthodox Church in Egypt) has helped shape my understanding of priestly spirituality reflected in these pages.
What is the purpose of this book?
Many questions arise as one begins to adjust to the calling to the priesthood, and the dynamics of an individual’s particular personality and circumstances begin to be affected by one’s vocation. Rather than being a self-help guide or instruction manual, this book invites you into an encounter with the Lord as it explores different themes relevant to our inner life. It looks at how the ‘grace of priesthood’ (a term used by the Revd Donald English, sometime President of the Methodist Conference, when addressing students from my ecumenical ordination training) can be nurtured and deepened. It also offers some resources to help develop one’s inner life from the great tradition of spirituality that may be unfamiliar to some.
There are times when priests – good priests – who come for direction find it difficult to talk about their inner relationship with God. Or it becomes clear that, apart from the liturgies they’re required to celebrate, their spiritual life has floundered, while some have become slaves to their ministry. Clergy have so many demands made on them that it’s easy to neglect the inner life, and the Church sometimes seems more interested in numbers than