Anamnesis

I finished reading the book “Holy Listening” and realized it had left behind a big old scruffy, flea-bitten dog of doubt sitting right in front of me demanding to be fed, or at least petted.

The book concludes with some thoughts about women as spiritual directors, and women’s changing roles in ministry in the context of the Episcopal Church. The author, Margaret Guenther, is an Episcopal Priest, and it was clear that she had very clear and unambiguous notions about the differences between men and women; both in the roles and rules that society imposes; and about the different ways that women vs. men approach relationships.

My ambiguity stems from a realization I had quite a long time ago, and it raised up its head again as I set down the book. This is the gist of it:

I cannot identify with either side of the gender polarization: neither male or female! I don’t recognize any aspect of myself in any of the masculine or feminine attributes, or talents, or habits that Guenther describes with such assurance.

My take-away insight arose out of that very uneasiness, because I realized that my old familiar doubt had somehow gained an oddly confident and equable character; one that I might even call ‘hopeful’.

I realized that this misgiving of mine is the very thing that has taught me to recognize the enormous scope of freedom that I might be able to bring to the ministry of ‘spiritual direction’.

It’s hard to describe— but the practical effect is one of being certain that answers are unnecessary, and that nothing can be fixed, or even ought to be fixed.

I have a huge amount of empathy, but very little sympathy.

I have a baseline of experience that teaches me that we can all figure stuff out for ourselves, and that the best way for a person to be useful is to “make room” for that figuring-out to take place. The modern jargon is “hold space” and, much as I dislike trendy phrases, this one is fairly apt.

This freedom that I recognized in me has an affinity with Paul’s exclamation in Galatians:

“What the Messiah has freed us for is freedom!”  

I really think we need to keep on remembering that.

As far as the “art of holy listening” goes, I’m going to go all Zen, and jump sideways over all the ambiguous cracks in the sidewalk of doubt and bring in something from way out in left field.



Old Man Zen says, “It’s got dog-slobber all over it…..”




Anamnesis





Between us

the remembering silence ranges—



doubling back on itself

across the ringing space—



folding through itself

around the widening void—



and the lucid gulf

below our listening—



Listens back.