Liberation is a steady, slow growth of the person towards the full actualisation of his identity. This identity is separate from the milieu in which he was conceived, born and educated and also from the environment in which he pursues his livelihood in co-operation and conflict with the milling throng around him. As he grows to full spiritual maturity, so he transcends the restraints and limitations of his background and the society in which he lives, and starts to forge his own path away from the monotonous tumult of the crowds who tend to move in restricted circles of vanity. Their vision is usually limited to immediate gratification of the senses; his, on the other hand, extends to include the whole cosmos in its regard. All this, if unqualified, would seem to imply that the actualised person dispenses with all human ties and communal solidarity and moves into a rarefied domain of individualistic spiritual exploration. In fact, it is only when one is liberated from the thralldom of personal attachment, and gives oneself unconditionally to God, that one can begin to relate constructively to the people around one and the society one has been called on to serve.
Jesus had no doubt where the fulfilled person's priority lay: it lay with God, so that it might aid in the resurrection of the world. Our progressive movement into freedom starts with our emancipation from inner fears and negative attitudes to life, a liberation effected by the spirit of love and faith given to us by God, often through the agency of a spiritually aware friend or counsellor. The next part of personal freedom involves a loosening of obsessive ties with other people, whose favourable opinion of one is essential for one's own self-esteem. Indeed, we cannot know real freedom until we have parted with our reputation in the service of truth. It is more liberating for me to appear a complete failure in the eyes of my colleagues by being true to my own insights than to glow in the esteem of others while denying my own identity, known in terms of the soul's response to moral values. 'What does a man gain by winning the whole world at the cost of his true self?' (Mark 8:36). The time spent in the wilderness is a crucially formative period in the lives of many great creative artists. It is even more significant in the growth into authenticity that punctuates spiritual mastery. It is in this spirit that Jesus' radical criticism of wealth finds its most important application: a person can no more enter the kingdom of heaven while encumbered with the adornments of money, power or intellectual prowess than can a camel pass through a needle's eye (Mark 10:25). To be liberated from the need for this world's riches is to move from an uncertain identity that depends on our outer reputation to an enduring identity that radiates from within us as a seal of our integrity.
We have also to break loose from long-established attitudes of mind and limiting ways of thought. On one occasion Jesus invited someone to follow Him, but the man first wanted to bury his father. Jesus told him to leave the dead to bury their dead, but that he should go and announce the kingdom of God (Luke 9:59-60). On another occasion, the man invited wanted first to bid farewell to his family, to which Jesus replied that no one who sets his hand to the plough and then keeps looking back is fit for the kingdom of God (Luke 9:61-62). Clearly, the disposal of the dead and a proper caring leave-taking, perhaps for good, of those close to one, is mandatory. But first there must be a full commitment to God. If one sets one's mind on God's kingdom and His justice before everything else, the rest will come to one as well (Matt. 6:33). In other words, in the two situations described above, if the would-be disciples had declared their allegiance to Christ first, they would have been able to do the work that filial piety and common duty demanded with the greatest alacrity while serving the Lord. But if the day's work takes precedence over our duty to God, we shall soon become so submerged in worldly care that the light of God will be occluded from our spiritual vision.
The same deficiency results when a person is too busy to find a time for silent communion with God in the practice of contemplation, which is as necessary for the well-being of the inner man as breathing is for the body. Constructive living is largely an exercise in assessing our priorities: only when the spiritual dimension claims our first allegiance can the demands of social, family and personal life be fulfilled and enjoyed. The peace that passes understanding, which is the basis of the faith of the counsellor that all will be well in the end, comes admittedly as a gift from God. But it has also to be cultivated by a disciplined inner life with a controlled outer expression in the various relationships that punctuate our work in the world. To be able to receive requires us first of all to put ourself in a state of stillness and trust. And this discipline of the inner life has to be learnt in slow stages by the client also. On it depends the freedom necessary for a full utilisation of one's gifts and a realisation of one's potential as a human being.
Freedom also involves the body and mind, both so often seduced by physical lust or emotional clinging. The body should be cherished but not indulged, while the mind should be filled with good things but not allowed to enter an undisciplined arena of vain imagining. The act of confession is a most powerful means towards inner healing. That confession may be directly to God in the course of prayer or it may be of the sacramental kind in which a priest pronounces the words of absolution to the shriven penitent, shriven of all his erstwhile conceit and subterfuge by the revealing power of the Holy Spirit who always brings the truth to any situation. A counselling session, and even more so a psychotherapeutic one, is largely concerned with bringing up old attitudes and actions which previously lay dormant in the unconscious, into full remembrance. Here their psychic and emotional charge is experienced to the full, and the impact on the mind may be of overwhelming horror. St James says, 'The prayer offered in faith will save the sick man, the Lord will raise him from his bed, and the sins he may have committed will be forgiven. Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, and then you will be healed' (Js. 5:15-16). The important part of prayer is the faith that accompanies it. As we have already seen, faith is made manifest in action. Once we have been put in right relationship, or justified, with God by faith, that faith will be the basis of the appropriate action. Praying with faith is an offering of the one who prays to make himself a living sacrifice to God's service. Prayer devoid of any commitment to action is a vain thing. God acts primarily through us as human beings in the economy of our world; if we are not prepared to play our part, the divine initiative founders in futility, and nothing is achieved.
In the same way, a confession made without a strong inner commitment that the penitent may change his way of life is essentially futile. It is, in other words, of little use praying for our sins to be forgiven so long as the inner desire to lead a new life and put away old, selfish attitudes of mind is lacking. That desire, if it is real and not merely an exercise of wishful thinking, is consummated in a commitment to serve God and our fellow men. God is served in the practice of prayer, during which we open ourselves in complete, attentive self dedication to His word, and learn from the depths of our being what He would have us do for our own welfare and that of the world around us. Our fellows are served by an equally intense self-dedication to them and their needs, so that, by the power of God's Spirit, we may learn what they need and then begin to fulfil that requirement, as God shows us.
In all these acts of service, it is the word of God that directs us, and not our own arrogant assurance that we know what is best. This is, in fact, the essence of spiritual counselling compressed into a simple definition: the bringing of God's wisdom down to the hungry populace by the practice of silent attention and selfless devotion. And then an inner healing is effected in which the soul of the client is put into its rightful alignment with God's purpose seen in terms of eternity. This is a very different end from the mere relief of a present indisposition, so that the person may feel better and be more contented and well-disposed to his present situation. While temporary amelioration is in no way to be derided, it is to be seen essentially as psychological first-aid treatment; until the makeshift relief is incorporated into an edifice of deep integrated healing there is the imminent threat of a future breakdown and disintegration of all that was erected so superficially and improvidently. The edifice of deep healing is constructed by the client alone; no one else can do it for him. We have already considered Psalm 127 to the effect that God initiates all human endeavours, but the execution of the work that builds the outer temple of the world is our human responsibility. In fact, the model of the outer temple, where God is worshipped in spirit and truth, is to be found in the light of the spirit within each of us, but what we are shown on the mountain of illumination has to be transposed to the world of material substance. Moses too was told to work to the design which he had been shown on Mount Sinai (Exod. 25:40).
In the work of rebuilding a vibrantly strong personality on the foundation stone that is the spirit within, God is our constant source of inspiration and support. He is aided in the world of spiritual life by the Communion of Saints and the vast Ministry of Angels, of whose existence Elisha was able to enlighten those timid souls who accompanied him in his cleansing mission (2 Kgs. 6:17), and who are with us now also even when our spiritual blindness occludes them from our immediate vision. The counsellor and therapist is a tangible representative of this great concourse of heavenly intelligence, and he can aid mightily in bringing the divine light and wisdom to bear on all immediate human problems. But in the end the client has to commit himself to enter the promised land of freedom and shared responsibility, and this means turning away from the sloth and vicious attitudes of the past and entering by a path of devotion and obedience into a new life. This is to be the forerunner of eternal fellowship with all that exists in God's creative love. The disciplined life that is the only effective way to durable freedom involves firstly the inner way to a knowledge of God from Whom all freedom comes. Then comes the second part that concerns the individual life of mind and body. All is consummated in the third part which concentrates its work in relationships with other people. Thus the life of spiritual discipline consists of contemplation, ascetic living and purity of relationships. First comes the love of God, then the loving discipline of oneself, and finally service to our neighbours, who, as Jesus reminds us in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, include everyone in immediate relationship with us.
The greatest act of human discipline is also its most sublime: a direct confrontation in silence with the hidden face of God. This is contemplation, which is the zenith of worship. The basis of worship is giving up everything we have for the beloved; in essence this means self-renunciation, for each of us is unique in essence and therefore irreplaceable. Our uniqueness is the measure of love that the Creator has bestowed on us; our self giving to Him is the measure of the love received by us from Him which we now give back, flavoured by our unique presence enhanced by the spiritual growth which has made that presence a valuable asset to the world. To contemplate God is to be still before Him with a clear mind and an attentive will. 'Speak, Lord; thy servant hears thee' (1 Sam. 3:9-10). In the silence the Holy Spirit penetrates the psyche, cleansing the rational faculty and purifying the emotions until the physical body is itself renewed and healed. Contemplation is both the heart of prayer and its zenith; it is both the precondition for inner conversation with God and the end of that conversation. When we are in one-pointed silent communion with God we can speak to Him of our sins, our requests, and our concern for other people. These prayers of confession, petition and intercession bring our own condition and that of the wider world into sharp inner focus, and as we pray so we give our souls and bodies to God as a living sacrifice for the sake of all the world. We know in that state of self-giving that we are all parts of the one body, and that as we become filled with God's Spirit, so we can give that Spirit to all around us whether in our daily work or in our silent prayer, which should continue without ceasing if, we are living the risen life with Christ. This is indeed the supreme act of spiritual discipline; on it depends not only our effectiveness as counsellors, but also the health and usefulness of our own mind and body.
The life of asceticism is not to be confused with self-torture, when our bodies are mortified for the sake of our souls, allegedly for the good of mankind or our place in the life beyond death. It is, on the contrary, one in which the spirit is alive and vibrant in the personality, so that every disposition of the natural order around us is seen to be invested with new glory and countless possibilities. The ascetic is the spiritual athlete; he trains the body and mind so that they can assist him in his efforts to attain full spiritual mastery. Usually the body is an inert, though voluptuous, incubus to spiritual growth; in this we remember Jesus' words, 'Therefore I bid you put away anxious thoughts about food and drink to keep you alive, and clothes to cover your body. Surely life is more than food, the body more than clothes' (Matt. 6:25). This great counsel of perfect living becomes practical when our minds are lifted up to the hills of aspiration where we may commune with God. In that state of spiritual existence the need for elaborate meals and expensive clothes evaporates. In a barely tangible way the body is filled with something much more essential to its needs even than food. This is the Holy Spirit, and when He is fully with us, our dietary needs are met in that quantity which is best for our health. It is well-known that the affluent tend to eat unwisely and far too much, and that overeating can have very serious effects on the general health, especially of older people, often leading to premature death. When the spirit directs the personality under the guidance of God's Spirit, the body is disciplined in the same way in that the reason is properly focused and the emotions are calmed and channelled into productive avenues of service and understanding.
A trained, disciplined body is a joyous instrument for doing God's work: it witnesses to the vitality of the earth's elements when infused by the Holy Spirit, who gives life and is its Lord. It is not only our instrument of self-realisation, but is also a wonderful companion in the day's trials. It ceases to be the victim of constant or recurrent ill-health because it is doing its accustomed work smoothly, efficiently and with an inner awareness of the meaning of its labours. An unencumbered mind is at the disposal of the person moment by moment, which can receive, analyse and collate all information coming to it. It is no longer invaded and immobilised by extraneous thoughts, but can instead control all psychic material that enters it from outside. Under the influence of the spirit the emotions become calm, tranquil and constructively directed towards the attainment of what the Holy Spirit reveals. This disciplined calmness whose end is an attentive listening to the voice within us, so that we may respond positively and in harmony with the full flow of the cosmic rhythm around us, is attained only after much disharmony has been revealed and then released in us. This indicates the considerable distance that has to be travelled before the puritan within us (and he is there even in the hedonist, for we all long for ultimate safety no matter how much we may spurn it intellectually) matures to the full stature of the ascetic. The puritan in his full-blooded form shuns those things that might tempt him away from what he believes is a course towards God; these diverting agents of temptation are traditionally classed as the world, the flesh and the devil. But in the end these apparently subversive powers are bound to prevail in one form or another. I personally would go so far as to suggest that it is God's will that they too should have their hour of triumph, as Satan did when he reduced Job, that man of blameless and upright life, to penury and a repulsive skin disease. He who had previously been a model of affluent piety and holy wisdom was now less than the dust around him. All that he feared came upon him (Job 3:25), apparently through meaningless malice but ultimately for his spiritual emergence into the realms of transcendent light and eternal love. Had Job, however, not persevered with the life of holiness before misfortune struck, it is doubtful whether he would have passed his great test, for in that test all that was dark in him was brought to the surface of consciousness as he contended with God in the presence of his three comforters.
Once we have contended with the powers that destroy - and indeed emerged half-dead from the encounter - a new perspective is given us of the life we previously led in blindness and incomprehension. The spirit within us is now known to be the centre of what is real in our lives, and the Spirit of God Who illumines our spirit moves us beyond the slavery of mortal conventions to the freedom of eternal life. The joys of the body, the mind and the emotions are now fully experienced, and that without limit or fear of termination. Now however, the senses no longer yearn for constant stimulation; instead of being slaves to outer sources of diversion and entertainment they assume their rightful place as the instruments by which the world of ultimate reality, eternal nature as some mystics would call it, becomes tangible to us. The gifts of the spirit that God has showered on us, some indeed at the time of our conception, no longer need to be exhibited for our personal glory; instead they assume their rightful place in the scheme of our life by enabling us to play our part in the cosmic flow, whose harmony directs the development of the universe. This harmony is the song of the Holy Spirit as He proceeds unceasingly with His work of renewing the world. To the mystic the song of eternal creation and renewal issues forth as the music of the spheres. One is reminded of God's appearance to Job in that magnificent theophany, when he is asked 'Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Who settled its dimensions? Who stretched his measuring-line over it? On what do its supporting pillars rest? Who set its corner-stone in place, when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted aloud?' (Job 38:4-7). To the contemporary mind, these questions simply reveal the rudimentary state of cosmology of those far-off days. But to the mystic they indicate a grasp of reality that far transcends worldly understanding, for our scientific knowledge is ever-changing, while eternal life proceeds towards the transfiguration of all that is mortal until a new creation emerges, one in which each creature participates consciously in the life of God and of his fellow.
At last we may begin to comprehend the way of discipline that leads to freedom. Early in the spiritual life, the power of decision, of free choice, has to be acknowledged. Here lies our grasp of the will, around which all responsible actions are poised. Once the will is acknowledged as a central focus of the inner life, it has to be trained and strengthened by an assiduous discipline of obedience to the will of God. This obedience consists of the practice of prayer, penance and communal worship. Prayer raises us above our personal concerns to a glimpse of the divine mind, while penance brings us down once more to recollect our selfish attitudes to remind us how we fail day by day in love to other people. Communal worship may at times be dreary and even unpleasant, but it emphasises in no uncertain way that we too are parts of the one body, which is mankind. When we worship together we give of what we have received in private prayer, and we receive the blessing that comes from the least conspicuous attender, who represents Christ in His humiliation as well as His triumph.
In this way the recalcitrant pleasure-seeking personal will is divested of its selfish preoccupations. It is trained to run the great race of life, and as it proceeds tirelessly in this work, the spirit within is revealed to us. Through that spirit, revealed to us as a centre of peace and light, the Holy Spirit assumes His effortless role of leadership. He moves us to realise our proper humanity which is an image of Jesus' divine humanity. Christ not only releases us from the stultifying domination of our `lower nature', which is our animal inheritance, but He also leads us to participate fully in the `higher nature' of God that is a perpetual witness to love and wisdom of a depth far beyond anything this world could grasp. While our lower nature is also a glorious gift, it soon becomes demonic if given precedence so that it is made the measure of a fulfilled person. In fact, our relationship with God is the only true measure of our fulfilment. The lower nature is predatory, striving for its own satisfaction, and heedless of the welfare of other creatures apart from their usefulness to its own ends. The end of this selfish approach to life is death, which is the true wages of sin. But this remorseless process is reversed when the will is awakened and opens itself to God in the abject penitence of prayer. It is then transfigured, and its sights are directed heavenwards. Only then is the lower nature disembarrassed of its lethal dominance, and at once it is also released from the prison of mortality so that it too can glimpse the realm of eternal life that is its inheritance.
The end in store for the flesh is not merely sensual satisfaction, which is inevitably dulled by the inroads of time with its grim harvest of ageing, decay and death. On the contrary, it is the destiny of the ennobled flesh to undergo transfiguration as a prelude to a more widely-embracing resurrection into something of the measure of Jesus' risen body. Resurrection embraces three motions: forgiveness, restoration and exaltation. In this sequence that which was most humiliated is now raised up with Christ beyond death to a knowledge of eternal life. This knowledge is with us even at the present moment when we give ourselves in service to God and our neighbours in self-forgetful devotion. The fruit of the knowledge of eternity is wisdom. If the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, the end of wisdom is an openness to Him in loving trust. Indeed, the end of the discipline of obedience is this very openness to God's word at all times. From us the word flows out to all those who are available to receive it. Of those people who are receptive to God's wisdom, there is formed the nucleus of a society that can serve humanity in self-giving love and self-transcending wisdom.
The discipline that leads us to freedom is therefore one that reveals the spirit within us. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, our own spirit raises up the whole personality from its usual querulous self-assertiveness to a calm self-effacement in service to humanity. It is in this way that we can understand that only in God's service is perfect freedom, because when we are nothing and need to be nothing in terms of the world's esteem, then alone are we truly ourselves as God made us and knows us. Indeed, we are most fully ourselves when we have left our self-regard behind in our service to God, whether in rapt worship or in concern for our fellow creatures in the pursuit of truth, beauty or goodness. This classical platonic triad brings us to the divine footstool in the exercise of the intellectual faculty by which we serve in the world of science, art or philanthropy.
In this spiritual discipline the body learns to limit its demands according to the needs of the whole person rather than to strive for its own satisfaction as an end in itself. It is then the willing servant and not the master of the personality. The mind at the same time acquires the gift of stillness so that it may be attentive to the needs of others and be about its Father's business instead of devising its own schemes and becoming wrapped in its own speculations. The emotions attain a calm compliance instead of issuing a jangled clamour of contrary orders that are to be heeded simultaneously. The end is a truly ascetic life in which the spirit, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, is unceasingly shepherding the person into a more perfect style of life. In this way we become a vibrant power of renewal for the world about us. We no longer need recognition, but are simple available to assist anyone in need. Constant availability is the fruit of the ascetic life; it means service in joyous abandon without counting the cost. Receiving nothing for oneself - other than the joy of God's eternal presence in one's life - one can give of oneself unstintingly to one's neighbour. The relationship that is articulated in such an encounter is the supreme gift of service freely rendered. In giving, so one receives a blessing from God Himself. The result is that light enters the darkness of the collective human psyche, and resurrection is heralded.