Step by Step Guidance
Teresina R. Havens
I have gone forward not as one traveling in a road cast up, and well-prepared, but as a man walking through a miry place, in which are stones here and there, safe to step on; but so situated that one step being taken, time is necessary to see where to step next.
The Journal and Essays of John Woolman, p. 315, 1772.1
Woolman was a walker! Also in a spiritual sense, he proceeded one step at a time. In our efforts to discern the true leadings of the Holy Spirit this image may be more meaningful for some of us than the rushing wind of Pentecost, the sudden flames, with their once-for-all connotations. Woolman was not always sure; he was not always right the first time. Like us, he lay awake at night examining his own motives; he recorded his dreams and found them instructive. From his early twenties he was wrestling with the precise problem under consideration: how to recognize the difference between his own “excessive zeal” and the divine leading. In his youth he once spoke in meeting “more than was required” of him.
Later, through humble repentance my understanding became more strengthened to distinguish the language of the pure Spirit which inwardly moves upon the heart. (p. 159, 1741.)
What were some of the steps by which Woolman arrived at certainty, and what is their relevance for us?
God hath placed that in the human mind which incites to exercise goodness towards every living creature. This being singly attended to, people become tender-hearted and sympathizing; but being frequently and totally rejected, the mind shuts itself up in a contrary disposition. (p. 153.)
Not occasional attention, not attention in times of crisis only, nor only during a preliminary period of searching, but continual, life-long, single-minded paying of attention to the Inner Guide.
So crucial did Woolman consider this attention that it was his chief criterion in determining the nature and amount of his business involvements. He refused several offers of profitable business: Why? because
there was a care on my mind so to pass my time, as to things outward, that nothing might hinder me from the most steady attention to the voice of the True Shepherd. (p. 164)
In other words, our openness to divine leadings is inextricably tied up with our way of earning our living. Luxury interferes with clarity. Here is a revolutionary principle, far more revolutionary than communism, because it judges our standard of living, indeed our entire social order, not in terms of efficiency, or productivity, or comfort, but in terms of this psychological-spiritual criterion: How does it affect our inner life, our sensitivity to truth?
In order to apply this criterion, we might restate it as a query and take it back to our Meetings or churches to use in a retreat or an adult class, or even in Meeting-for-Worship: What in my life most hinders me from single-minded attention to the Inner Guide?
Woolman went out of his way to expose himself first-hand to the life of slaves, sailors and others, suffering from unjust conditions. Through long and laborious journeys, sometimes on foot and in the face of danger, he took the initiative, he put himself in a position to be spoken to, and spoken through, by the Inner Voice. Sometimes the exposure came about through Woolman’s obedience in following a prior leading: for example, on the voyage to England he was led by his scruples against “superfluities” to sleep in the steerage. The result of this exposure was an informed concern about the conditions under which the sailor-boys lived, as well as a direct spiritual ministry to them which could hardly have been possible if Woolman had stayed in the fancy cabins up above.
So we see how the Holy Spirit or Inner Voice operates not in a vacuum but through relationships: through first-hand contact and sharing of life-conditions with those in need. Note the three-fold direction of the Spirit’s leading: first, in or to Woolman, in response to the sailors’ need (inner guidance); second, to the sailors, through Woolman (spiritual help); third, to the insensitive first-class passengers, and eventually to the wider society, through Woolman (ethical challenge).
To apply this insight to our own lives we might test ourselves, our Meetings and our psychiatrist friends, perhaps also our candidates for the School Board and the Presidency, with some such Query as this: What opportunities have we been missing for the direct exposure to human need and injustice which would provide material for the Inner Guide to work on?
This seems to me an area in which the Quaker approach can clearly complement most contemporary schools of psychology.
The first time Woolman was asked to write a Bill of Sale for a slave he did it, but was “afflicted” and expressed his scruples. The next time he “begged to be excused.” Thus did his guidance come step by step in an experimental manner as he continued to test and to listen.
An episode illustrating how the authority of the Biblical prophets operated to support inner leadings occurred when Woolman was still in his twenties. Disturbed over the evil effects on youth of the carousing at a certain bar, he felt led to speak to the proprietor. Yet he hesitated. Many older Friends had seen the goings-on and had said nothing. Then as he was reading Ezekiel he found confirmation in the Lord’s calling the prophet to be a “watchman,” and “the matter was set home more clearly.” He spoke to the proprietor. (p. 161.)
Now we come to the more explicitly psychological aspects of our inquiry: to the inner conflicts and uncertainties which Woolman suffered on many occasions when he had begun to follow a leading but met with difficulties or dangers which made him wonder whether he was really being “led” to proceed.
One of the most fascinating examples of self-analysis occurs on his Indian journey of 1763, during the French and Indian Wars. He had ridden as far as Wyoming, Pennsylvania, in obedience to a strong inner prompting
to spend some time with the Indians that I might feel the Spirit they live in, if happily I might receive some instruction from them.
At this point a runner brought word that Englishmen were being scalped in the area ahead. That night Woolman went through a “painful exercise,” in which we see his step-by-step approach applied as it were backward:
I had to trace back over the steps I had taken from my first moving in the visit…And as I believed I had under a sense of duty come thus far, I was now earnest in spirit beseeching the Lord to shew me what I ought to do.
Note the honesty with which he tries to smoke out possible egocentric motivations, such as Horney terms the “search for glory”.
In this great distress I grew jealous of myself, lest the desire of reputation, as a man firmly settled to persevere through dangers; or the fear of disgrace arising on my returning without performing the visit might have some place in me. Thus I lay full of thoughts, great part of the night ... till the Lord ... who saw the conflicts of my soul, was pleased to give quietness and therein I was renewedly confirmed that it was my duty to go forward. (p. 257.)
Here is one of the most obvious areas of convergence between true religion and depth psychology: ruthless honesty in facing one’s hidden motives. This same honesty Woolman applied to other kinds of inward temptations: false politeness to one’s hosts, resulting in a watering down of one’s message; rationalizations, such as justifying oneself in a compromise:
In the love of money, and the wisdom of this world, business is proposed, then the urgency of Affairs push forward, nor can the mind in this state discern the good and perfect will of God concerning us. The love of God is manifested in graciously calling us to come out of that which Stands in confusion, but if we give not up those prospects of gain which in the wisdom of the world are open before us, but say in our hearts “I must needs go on; and in going on I hope to keep as near to the purity of Truth as the business before me will admit of,” here the mind remains entangled, and the shining of the Light of life into the Soul is obstructed. (p. 298-9, 1772.)
In discussing self-analysis we were on familiar ground—familiar to both religion and psychology. But as we move now into the further steps of prayer and surrender of self-will, the categories diverge. Here are unsolved problems and dichotomies which await further experiment and clarification.
Again and again, in each problematical situation of doubt and uncertainty, Woolman describes the same inner movement of The heart of it is conveyed by such expressions as the following:
My own will and desire being now much broken.
That Word which is as a Fire and a Hammer, broke and dissolved my rebellious heart. (p. 154.)
I was exercised to abide in the pure life of Truth, and in all my labours to watch diligently against the motions of self in my own mind. (p. 314.)
Now we have come to the heart of our inquiry. How do we learn to recognize these “motions of self in our own minds” and to “watch diligently” against them? How do our will and desire become “broken”?
Here surely is the narrow gate, the turning-point. Let us suppose that we have given our whole attention—for a time at least—to the inner voice; we have searched our self-centered motives, our pride, our compromises. By our own will-power we can do no more, for it is precisely our will which must be negated. A reverse movement of the soul now seems to take place: a letting-go, a willingness not to go on the proposed journey, not to insist on the urgent action being taken at this meeting…
Just as a dancer, following her beloved,
Finds a mysterious inner letting-go
Through which she’s moved in rhythm with his music…
But what is the counterpart of such “letting-go” in the testing and following of the Inward Guide? What actually happens within us at that mysterious inner turning-point at which “God gives us a resigned heart”?
Let us look at one more episode of inner conflict from Woolman, especially interesting from the psychological standpoint because the conflict apparently expressed itself in what we should now call a psychosomatic illness, which Woolman himself recognized as such.
In 1761 Woolman had become “uneasie” over the use of dyed hats and garments, and “wearing more clothes in summer than are useful…believing them to be customs which have not their foundation in pure wisdom.” It was a particularly affecting exercise for him because he felt the connection between such luxuries and war. Nevertheless, “the apprehension of being singular from my Beloved Friends was a strait upon me, and thus I remained in the use of some things contrary to my judgment.”
Shortly thereafter he was taken ill of a fever and was in great distress of body.
One day there was a cry raised in me that I might understand the cause why I was afflicted and improve under it, and my conformity to some customs which I believed were not right were brought to my remembrance, and in the continuation of the exercise I felt all the powers in me yield themselves up into the hands of Him who gave me being, and was made thankful that he had taken hold of me by his chastisement, feeling the necessity of further purifying. There was now no desire in me for health, until the design of my correction was answered, and thus I lay in abasement and brokenness of spirit. And as I felt a sinking down into a calm resignation, so I felt as in an instant, an inward healing in my nature and from that time forward I grew better.
Though I was settled in my mind in relation to hurtful dies, I felt easie to wear my garments heretofore made. (pp. 246-7.)
The conclusion seems inescapable that, for Woolman at least, there is no clear line between the testing of guidance, and obedience. If full attention and surrender of one’s own will can be realized, the demands of Truth, or the “Voice of the True Shepherd,” will become clear. But how do we realize this surrender? If it cannot be found by willing, is there anything we can do or un-do to let it happen?
The Christian monastic orders have worked out one practical answer: “Holy Obedience” to one’s superior. By practice in surrendering one’s will to a human authority, one learns the ultimate renunciation. In the Society of Brothers, a similar result is realized through practice in accepting the decisions of the community as to the use of one’s time and abilities. Ruth Best suggests that a comparable exercise for mothers might be “obeying” a three-year-old for a certain period each day: giving up one’s cherished will-to-accomplishment long enough to follow the child’s leading as an expression of the Spirit.
Might the Meeting-for-Business provide for Friends a similar training-ground in subordinating one’s ego-involved desires not to the will of the group, but to the Truth as revealed through the group? If so, let us set ourselves this query as we return to our local Meetings: How can we, as psychologically-oriented members of the Society of Friends, help ourselves and our fellow-members to make better use of the Meeting-for-Business as a deliberate training in recognizing and subordinating our self-will or ego-involvement?
This implies, of course, a strong concern to begin with, an over-involvement. To members who are not even concerned, exposure and stimulation would have to come first. But most of us could start such inner training at least with what Evelyn Underhill calls “mortification of the tongue.”
What remain are unanswered questions. Please discuss them and share your insights or experiences through the pages of this journal, if only as a Letter to the Editor. Here are some of them:
What light can psychology throw on the path to non-attachment?
Is surrender of one’s will a “healthy” goal? Or is it likely to lead to repression of creative aspects of the personality?
Is there a conflict between the goals of “self-actualization” and “self-surrender”? If so, by what authority may the conflicts be resolved?
Whose authority are we really following in our outer and inner Pilgrimage?
1. Amelia Mott Gummere, editor. Macmillan, N. Y., 1922.
Teresina R. Havens has taught comparative religions at Smith College and at Pendle Hill. Earlier she had spent three years in Japan, where she collaborated with a Buddhist society similar to the Franciscan Third Order. Her recent Buddhist and Quaker Experiments with Truth is reviewed in our Books section. She and Joseph Havens have a daughter and a son.