In the denominational school I attended, college freshmen were required to take a Bible survey course. While doing homework one day, I encountered a verse I had never seen before: “Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12). This text unsettled me. What about grace? I had always been taught that we can’t work for our salvation. I set an appointment with my professor, Dr. Moeller, who fortunately took the questions of an 18-year-old lifelong church goer seriously.
In many ways, I have been informed by this verse my whole life. Five decades later I remain convinced of the truth of the words “work out your salvation,” but now I call this “discernment.”
For almost thirty years I have been learning from Ignatius of Loyola (1491–1556) and his Spiritual Exercises. Ignatian spirituality, specifically the topic of discernment, informs the ministry and practice of spiritual direction. This field of ministry became my vocation.
Discernment is both a spiritual gift (I Corinthians 12:10) and a spiritual practice. Like all practices, it requires intentionality and effort to hone so that we can eventually choose well. Living a life of discernment leads to decisions being well made. The Awareness Examen, created by Ignatius, is a daily prayer practice supporting the “working out of our salvation.”
King Solomon’s “wisdom in discernment” (I Kings 3:5–15) is a healthy growth model for us. Out of ongoing discernment flows strong decision-making skills. This works for every type of life question: who to marry, what to eat for lunch, where to volunteer, how to use your money, where to go to college or seminary, or choosing a job. Living in 3-D—desire, discernment, and decision-making—works.
Desire
“I want a male child” is the clearest statement of desire I know. Hannah prayed this five-word prayer when she was desperate for a child of her own. Psalm 37:4 tells us to “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.” We know that God does not give us everything we want, demand, or pray for. Notice the dance between our delight in God and our desires of the heart. Deep involvement with the Lord leads us to shared desires.
William Barry says it well, in his book Discernment in Prayer: Paying Attention to God:
We can be made to feel guilty and ungrateful for desiring what we want, but if we do suppress our desires without being satisfied that God has heard us, then, in effect, we pull back from honesty with God. Often, the result for our relationship with God is polite distance or cool civility. Perhaps God cannot or will not grant what we want, but for the sake of the continued development of the relationship, we need to keep letting God know our real desires until we are satisfied or have heard or felt some response.
Pretending with God leads to “polite distance or cool civility.” We are cordial with God but not intimate. We are good-enough Christians but rarely delight in the Lord. We may even be bored with it all, putting in time while waiting for the pearly gates. Telling God our desires, telling God the truth, keeps the life of faith fresh.
A prayer by Thomas Merton leans into our desires and engagement with God:
My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me.
I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore, will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Tell God the desires of your heart. It is not the final word. Rather, stating our desires opens us to the process of discernment.
Discernment
Living a life of discernment moves us to “find God in all things,” as Ignatian spirituality offers. Jeremiah 6:16 presents a lovely model to work this out practically:
Thus says the Lord:
Stand at the crossroads and look
And ask for the ancient paths,
Where the good way lies; and walk in it,
And find rest for your souls.
But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’
Naming our desires to God brings us to a crossroads time. Ahead of us there are multiple paths. We have been given the freedom to choose. Before proceeding, the Lord suggests we ask for the ancient paths where the good way lies. Clearly there are ancestors who have traveled this way before, who have asked similar questions and wondered about their families, livelihoods, futures, and faith.
The phrase “ancient paths” calls to mind spiritual practices that have proven helpful in discernment for generations. Creating a life of discernment builds a library of practices to choose from each day. Within this library is Scripture reading, corporate worship, lectio divina, music, walks, journaling, nature, service, spiritual direction, the awareness examen, art, time with friends, silence, retreat, visio divina, conversations with elders, fasting, dance, and the list goes on.
There are inner blockages along the path to living a life of discernment. One common block is the “will of God” dilemma. Often people stop moving forward because they are scared to be out of the will of God. 1 Thessalonians 4:3states, “this is the will of God, your sanctification.” Growing in faithfulness and fruitfulness is the theme. The discernment process is one of living in freedom, always moving to deeper intimacy with the Lord.
Discernment becomes less about right and wrong because being on this path means our hearts are already set on the things of God. We want what God wants. It’s a lovely dance partnership. By this time in the journey, we are only choosing between two good things; we no longer desire sin. That is our freedom. We are walking toward where the good way lies.
And find rest for your souls. Exhale deeply here. Intentional discernment involves practices that help us hear the inner voice of God’s wisdom and direction which gratefully leads to the soul’s rest.
Notice the verbs in Jeremiah 6:16: stand, look, ask, walk, rest.
The final line is always an option as we live in freedom, “we will not walk in it.” The people of Israel made their choice against the gifts of discernment. We can, too. However, I truly believe most of us, most of the time, really desire what God desires.
Decision Making
Some decisions are made easily and quickly. Life circumstances, including health, life stages of family members, and logistics all come together smoothly. Inwardly there is calm. Prayer feels settled and clean.
Other decisions take months and years to reach clarity and peace. In reality we are working on several discernment questions simultaneously, hence the phrase living a life of discernment. While an answer may be discerned quickly about how to spend the holidays, discerning when to attend seminary may take years. This is all part of our working out our salvation, our sacred story with God.
The fruits of intentional decision making are sweet and rich.
- You will deepen your connection with God, as finding God in all things is a moment-by-moment practice.
- Your yes will be yes, and your no will be no.
- You will commit to fewer options and keep those commitments.
- If you stay stuck too long and too often, this process can assist your forward movement.
- You will find rest for your soul.
John O’Donohue wrote a beautiful poem that feels like a prayer to encourage our decision making titled “For the Time of Necessary Decision”:
The mind of time is hard to read.
We can never predict what it will bring,
Nor even from all that is already gone
Can we say what form it finally takes;
For time gathers its moments secretly,
Often, we only know it’s time to change
When a force has built inside the heart
That leaves us uneasy as we are.
Perhaps the work we do has lost its soul
Or the love where we once belonged
Calls nothing alive in us anymore.
We drift through the gray, increasing nowhere
Until we stand before a threshold we know
We have to cross to come alive once more.
May we have the courage to take the step
Into the unknown that beckons us;
Trust that a richer life awaits us there,
That we will lose nothing
But what has already died;
Feel the deeper knowing in us sure
Of all that is about to be born beyond
The pale frames where we stayed confined,
Not realizing how such vacant endurance
Was bleaching our soul’s desire.
Rich blessings to you on the discernment journey.
Learn more about discernment through North Park’s C. John Weborg Center for Spiritual Direction.
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