At a climactic point in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus tells His disciples, 'There must be no limit to your goodness, as your heavenly Father's goodness knows no bounds' (Matt. 5:48). He is speaking in the context of love, and His demands are radical: that we should love not only those whom we call our friends, but also those who are evilly disposed towards us, and that we should include them in our prayers. In this respect we remember that God has no favourites, for He loves everything that He has created. Furthermore, love is an absolute quality; it does not have gradations and qualifications, unlike fondness and affection. The measure of love, as we have already seen, is self-renunciation even to death for the sake of the beloved. We see this love in Christ who took the burden of our sin upon Himself, and discharged the odium that He accumulated by death. In that mystery the debt was discharged, and mankind was afforded a new insight into the reality of God as forgiveness replaced guilt and a free pardon was granted to the meanest sinner.
All that was needed was confession - the ability to face the past with dispassionate honesty - and faith to receive the free gift of pardon. The gift comes freely with love - it cannot be earned. But once we have received the gift of love, it will never let us go until all people have been included in its embrace. In this way the faith that saves is proved by the works that heal the world. The proof of love entering our life is that we lose concern for ourself, in its manifest guises of image, reputation, security and rectitude, as we give ourself unstintingly to the one whom we cherish. As I give myself, so I lose myself; as I cease to be the focus of my identity, so the spirit within me shows itself and reveals God's Spirit working within me. Thus Christ lives in me, using my particular qualities and gifts, and I cease to be a separate creature in an impersonal world.
The ultimate freedom is liberation from the demands of the finite personality so that one can participate fully in the life of anyone around one. This is the peak of the counselling process, that one can enter into the personality of anyone who comes for help, and speak to the condition of that person according to the insights given by the Holy Spirit.
Relating to other people is an essential aspect of growing into self-knowledge. One part of understanding ourselves comes with the experience of being alone for some time, when we have to face the usually hidden facets of our character as they come to the surface in the silence. But that understanding is somewhat theoretical until it is practised in the life of the world around us. Self-knowledge is confirmed and substantiated by the responses other people evoke in us, as we in turn bring forth reactions in them. In the exercise of relationships we may experience revulsion and attraction, the one leading us to flee through fear or a sense of deep inferiority, the other drawing us to irrational attachment so that we cannot let the other person free to lead his own life. He becomes an essential part of our sense of identity. But as we progress in life, so we must learn to live in harmony and co-operation with a large number of people, some of whom are closer to us than others. Eventually we have to experience love for at least one person as a presage of the universal love that is to be our final destiny.
The first word in relationships is respect, or courtesy, for the other person, that he is a being in his own right with his own destiny to fulfil. It is in this frame of mind that we remember Jesus' solemn injunction against judging others, lest we ourselves are judged (Matt. 7:1-2). We have to learn that God's purposes are fulfilled in this world despite outer appearances and even without our approval. The society which is prevalent in many countries at present is permissive almost to the point of carelessness, but one advantage inherent in such a dangerous state of affairs is the freedom for the individual to be himself. What we see we may not like - and honesty is the second word in relationships - but we have no right to impress our point of view dogmatically on another person. Jesus reminds us how occluded our own sight is with the beams of self-regard, hypocrisy and a terrible unconcern for others when our own security is under threat. Until these blockages are acknowledged and their removal sought by confession and prayer - for we cannot remove them ourselves by a simple act of will - we are in no position to criticise other people let alone attempt officiously to improve them.
In fact only the practice of non-attached concern can help anyone, and this non-attachment shows itself in leaving the person free to lead his own private life while never ceasing to care for him and be available when he has need of us. In this activity commitment and non-attachment come together. Without non-attachment an attitude of commitment to another person's welfare soon assumes a dictatorial smothering quality. Non-attachment devoid of commitment on the other hand, soon fades into a clinical detachment in which the person's problems assume a priority over his humanity, so that he is viewed as an interesting case whose progress can teach one much about the natural history of his particular difficulty.
If we encounter each new person with courtesy on the one hand and an honest acceptance of our emotional response to him on the other, we shall begin to form a living relationship with him. The foundation of such a relationship is inner silence so as to listen to what he is saying and sense what lies concealed behind the words. Until we are at peace with ourselves, we cannot be available to receive another person. Listening requires our whole attention, and this cannot be available while we are diverted along some inner track of theorisation, in which we know the answers even before we have heard the problem. Nor can we be available to another person while we are inwardly irritated or fearful, confused or resentful. The result of listening with our undivided attention is the registration of a definite reaction; it may be favourable or decidedly adverse, but on no account should it be denied, concealed from ourself, or become the source of inner guilt. All real relationships are primarily psychic, and the psychic charge that infuses us informs us not only about the psychological and spiritual well-being of the other person, but also our sensitivity to his needs and our capacity and willingness to be of assistance to him. The third word in relationships is vulnerability, the capacity to receive the burden of another person's temperament and suffer under it. This occurs especially when the response to that person is adverse. It has to be borne with fortitude and as much charity as we can muster. The encounter may be destined to terminate at this point, as part of a casual social event. On the other hand, it may continue indefinitely in the setting of a family unit or an employment situation. Here it has to work itself out relentlessly.
It is in conflict rather than ethereal harmony that the character grows. We have to learn not only to tolerate people whose style of life and set of values are quite different from our own, but also to listen to what they are saying to us. This does not mean blinding ourselves to the differences or trying to plaster them over simply by finding points of common concern. It means being more firmly rooted in oneself than ever before and testing one's own previously held views and attitudes in the refining fire of another person's presence, one that appears inimicable and immediately threatening. A confrontation with a hostile witness brings us close to the unstable equilibrium within ourselves in which we balance precariously between a structured conformity to the society around us on the one hand and a destructive anarchy that would break loose from all the restraints it puts around us on the other. Every new encounter is a potential threat to our inner security, and every relationship reveals some imbalance within us.
Far from being unfortunate, this is the way of personal growth into something of a mature human being. But attention and humility are essential in the process. In this respect, humility does not mean self-denigration or a belittling of one's own unique essence. This is more akin to humiliation, unpleasant when it is visited upon us as a result of some misdemeanour which has been discovered and publicised, but perversely enjoyable when we ourselves are the agents of the flagellation. It is the reverse side of narcissistic self-approval, and in both the ego is dominant. Both have subtle sexual overtones also. Humility is simply a state of openness, being aware that we do not know much and that enlightenment can reach us from even the most improbable sources. Humility is a quality of youth; as long as one can learn from all the changes of life, one will never grow old in spirit. And the life beyond death will be the source of endless delight as one approaches its welcoming light at the end of a well-spent life on earth.
I doubt whether many friendships that have stood the test of time have escaped periods of severe conflict, so that each party has had to acknowledge considerable areas of difference, even apparent incompatibility. A relationship that requires a sedulous plastering over of the cracks of disagreement is in fact unreal. A relationship that is of real substance is progressive; it shows the essential quality of a living organism, which is growth. When one ceases to grow, death is approaching - and this is right, because it means that a particular phase of existence has been spent and something new has to take its place. A real relationship is not simply an elaborate supporting edifice where one can conceal uncongenial aspects of one's character so as to appear superficially urbane and acceptable to the other person. Such a relationship is radically unsound because it depends on mutual connivance rather than truth. The truth of friendship is support even to the point of death. A makeshift relationship that masquerades as friendship will founder on the rocks of egoistical manipulation when the outer circumstances are no longer easy and a multitude of things go wrong.
We cannot use people with impunity. For a long time an adequate modus vivendi may appear to be struck, but in due course the inner core of identity that we call the soul of the one who is manipulated will rise in revolt and cry out, as Moses did, 'Let my people go in order to worship our God' (Exod. 8:1). At that point the attachment will be revealed in all its shallowness. Not all predatory relationships are so blatantly parasitic as this; some such relationships may be so intense that they delude the protagonist into believing that he is full of love, while in other relationships love may appear to be given to as many people as possible. I refer here to infatuation on the one hand and sexual promiscuity on the other.
The person who is infatuated projects his identity on to the object of his attraction. He invades the psychic presence as well as the physical privacy of the other person. He is grasping, admittedly unconsciously, for a quality in that individual that he himself lacks, but which he sees brilliantly represented in the object of attention. His ultimate, though unconscious, aim is to gain control of that person and suck him dry of the desired qualities. This is a most terrible example of parasitism, and its end is the subtle destruction of the victim as he is drawn covetously into the personality of the predator. And yet the state of emotional gluttony and psychic invasion can mimic ardent affection so closely that the one who is possessed, as if by an outside influence, sincerely believes that he loves his victim most passionately. Love admittedly covers a multitude of sins, but it must be distinguished categorically from the morbid attachment that underlies infatuation. Love bestows the freedom to be oneself that is essential in any living relationship. The predator remains unfilled in his infatuation, whereas the lover is full of God's Spirit.
Promiscuity in relationships involves the most intimate and holy moment of dedication, sexual union. This is indeed a sacrament of God's love for us; in the act, when consummated in love, each gives of the self to the other. The cloud of forgetting, at least for a split second, descends over the clamant demands and yearnings of the personality, while the cloud of unknowing cleaves sufficiently for the light of God to be momentarily revealed. Sexual union has many benefits, but its supreme gift is the knowledge of God's love, as it breaks through the usual opacity of the personality and radiates to the depths where the spirit lies revealed. Indeed, in the words of Psalm 42 (v. 7), deep calls to deep in the roar of God's cataracts. In other words, loving sexual intercourse is the way in which the common man, who makes no claims to spiritual knowledge or aspiration, can also find release from the limitations of ego consciousness and experience mystical union with the infinite. That this is not merely a delightful, though evanescent, escape from the stress of exigent living is proved by the aura of love that surrounds the person for some time after the peak of self-transcendence. As soon as we can forget ourselves in a wider opening of our whole being to life, we begin to live with the abundance that Jesus came to show us. He did this, not only by His teaching but also, and much more relevantly, by making Himself completely available to us as He gave up His mortal life on the cross of our affliction.
But not all sexual intercourse is motivated by self-giving love. Much of it is an expression of lust, the desire for satisfaction even at the expense of another person's well-being. Sexual activity can as easily be an expression of hatred as of love. The horror of a sexual assault implants itself deeply in the psyche of the victim, because an essence of sanctity that surrounds the soul is violated, and can never be completely restored. The inner effect of rapacious sexual activity cannot be gauged simply by the outer manifestations that are evoked; a sickness of the soul persists, so that the beautiful self-giving that is at the heart of all true relationships, whether intimately genital or warmly social, may be inhibited or even completely thwarted. Only a prolonged counselling or psychotherapeutic process with deep understanding and warm affection flowing from the counsellor can repair, at least to some extent, the terrible hurt that has been done.
Of course, promiscuity in sexual relationships does not have this baneful effect, because there is at least mutual compliance in the act. But any act of genital union involves a profound psychic exchange. The one who is promiscuous can implant the psychic impression with facility, as he trails off to his next contact - and here men are considerably less vulnerable than are women. But the receptive, caring partner is left with the psychic emanation, which is much less easily dismissed from consciousness. It persists as a pervading awareness, almost an aroma, that brings unease and disquiet in its wake. Instead of love, all that remains is a subjective counterfeit, and a progressive loneliness rears its head. This is intolerable to confront, and therefore the attention is rapidly diverted to other sources of entertainment and self-comfort. The fruits of sexual promiscuity are a dulling of the individual sensitivity, a lowering of the sights of personal endeavour and integrity, and a slow regression to a coarse animal lust which eventually becomes an abiding passion of life. When the human becomes an animal, he becomes a vile beast, because he brings with him his native intelligence while lacking the natural innocence and simplicity of his animal brethren.
At his best, man is a spiritual being, at his basest a destructive beast. Sexual intercourse, of all human activities, illustrates this vast polarity and range of responses. It also shows the supreme importance of intimate human relationships in leading man from the dark inheritance of his past to the glorious light of God's radiance in the present moment which is also the portal to the future. The fruit of our ignorance about the all-pervading psychic emanation deriving from deep personal relationships and the pain that their casual disruption can produce is a trivial view and permissive attitude towards sexual conduct. This is even more the case nowadays since techniques of contraception have apparently reached a peak of efficiency. It seems a rational conclusion to encourage sexual experimentation as a sensible prelude to a more lasting union. While all relationships have an experimental aspect, and the sequence of trial and error must inevitably punctuate life's many ventures, it is nevertheless certain that sexual relationships should be initiated only in the environment of deep mutual concern. The Hindu ideal of harmlessness is perhaps the most practical approach to this difficult problem; if we could take it to heart at the start of each new undertaking we might begin to think responsibly about the probable results of our actions, and be guided accordingly.
Love comes more slowly, being indeed the measure of the spiritually mature person. It embraces both harmlessness and self-giving. It must be acknowledged that many experimental relationships are destined to fail, but if they have been undertaken in a spirit of responsibility and respect, though their fruits may first be bitter, they will later be sweetened by the balm of understanding. There is, in other words, a middle way between taking care at all costs to keep oneself clean and uncontaminated from the world and acting with promiscuous irresponsibility so as to defile as many people as possible for one's own pleasure. The way of obsessional purity precludes any real relationship, whereas the path of promiscuity lowers human ties to animal encounters. The ultimate way is to be open in love to as many people as possible and feed them with the Holy Spirit that infuses the dedicated psyche. By this means they may be freed from over-dependence on physical comfort and genital pleasure, which by its nature cannot be other than transient, and helped to participate in spiritual fellowship, which is of unfailing support. This was the way of Jesus in His frequent encounters with the fallen members of the society of His time, and it is our paradigm of fulfilled counselling in this treacherous terrain.
Jesus never condemned the degraded members of society; on the contrary He dined with them and enjoyed their company, because they were open in their dispositions and could communicate. But He did not lower Himself to their standard in order to accommodate them; instead He raised them up to what God intended them to be. This He did by His very presence and what radiated from Him. We may be sure He did not preach repentance, as did St John the Baptist in his preparatory work, but rather flowed out in loving acceptance. This love that suffers the pain of humanity and is vulnerable to the point of death can alone bring the unlovely into fellowship with the world of value and aspiration.
And then comes the miracle: the unloved, and therefore unlovely, become infinitely lovable as they cast off their cloak of indifference and begin to make their own journey to spiritual fulfilment. They do not lose contact with their own identity; far from losing it, they encounter it fully for the first time in their lives. The venal tax-gatherer, for instance, need not wash his hands completely of all financial dealing - after all, money is also one of God's gifts to us - but now he can use his resources with wisdom and charity. They cease to be the measure of his own fulfilment as a person, and can instead be used to assist less fortunate people. In a similar fashion, the prostitute need no longer yield her body to the lustful embrace of the unfulfilled man for the sake of security. Instead, as a redeemed person, she can give of herself in her entirety, and freely too, in love to those who have never been acknowledged as persons worthy of respect, let alone affection. Her own life mirrored this lack of love that she had inherited from a loveless generation that conceived her - for the sins of the fathers are visited on their children up to the third and fourth generation (Exod. 20:5), a statement incidentally not of God's terrible wrath, but of the inevitable law of cause and effect without the redemption wrought by undemanding, self-giving love such as Christ came to show us. The reward of the redeemed prostitute is not to be measured any longer in financial terms; it is the simple joy of acknowledging another human being without any personal desire other than to watch over a vulnerable soul emerging from behind the dark barriers of a previously recalcitrant personality, from the cocoon of fear to the open warmth of love.
The psychological mechanism of sublimation of unfulfilled potentialities that is so well described in psychoanalytic theory is now raised to a higher level of service and commitment by the spiritual glory of transfiguration. Psychological understanding can help a person make the most of his present endowments, however poor they may be. Spiritual wisdom can extend this basic, but very important, work by evoking an openness to the creative power of life in the love that comes from the constant, yet unobtrusive, solicitude of the counsellor. This 'creative power of life' is, incidentally, as satisfactory a definition of the work of the Holy Spirit as many humanistic agnostics would allow. But just as the common people who heard Jesus gladly were unknowingly encountering the very voice of God in whom until then they had only been able to believe from afar, so the agnostic client who is brought into direct relationship with the accepting love of a counsellor may begin to recognise the love of God by direct mystical insight. In the end all true love is known mystically, by which I mean that such love shows itself by lifting the beloved far beyond the limitations of his human nature to an apprehension of the glory of eternal union with the divine. Love, in other words, brings out the divinity lying at the core of our inner existence; it lets the spirit of the soul shine through the personality and be concentrated at the point of the ego, usually so demanding and predatory, so that Christ can show Himself in the life of the beloved, no matter how brief this appearance may be. But then one can say with the blind man whom Jesus healed, 'All I know is this: once I was blind, now I can see' (John 9:25).
It must also be acknowledged that the vast procession of human beings that we, as one of their number, encounter in a life's work, comprise a motley throng of individuals. Each is on his own rung of the ladders of spiritual development What is right for the needs of one person in terms of relationships may not be appropriate for someone else. Furthermore, all life is growth. The opinions we held when we were young should have been considerably modified and broadened by, the experience of life, and our lives on this earth are yet to be completed. Healing and growth are so complementary one to another as to be almost interchangeable categories. This is another reason why we must never judge, let alone condemn the life-style of another person. But when that life-style brings with it the exploitation or abuse of someone else, we are impelled to open the shutters of his mind so that he can begin to see the implications of his actions. The law is plain: whatever measure you deal out to others will be dealt back to you (Matt. 7:2). This terrible, though inevitable, law is fortunately subject to the other great law of forgiveness that permeates the universe and was, as Christians would assert, manifested crucially in the life of Christ. The love of God modifies and redirects the justice of God, but we have to make the first move, and this is the confession of sins. We are told elsewhere in the Sermon on the Mount 'Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened. For everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks, the door will be opened' (Matt. 7:7-8). But we have to seek, to ask and finally to knock at the door of the soul, so that He who knocks patiently at the other side, awaiting admission, may be allowed in to sit down to supper with us and we with Him (Rev. 3:20).
Counselling therefore has two aspects; the love of acceptance and the stern direction of the Holy Spirit leading the client on his way, divested of all illusions and disembarrassed of all unnecessary possessions, to become a person in his own right.