Day 77. Discernment Defined
Definitions are much less an end than a beginning.
Karl Rahner
To discern is to distinguish, literally to “sift apart.” In seeking God’s will discernment is the careful, prayerful process of sifting out the gold of God’s voice from the glitter and the clutter that fills our lives.
Discernment begins with listening. Further, it demands a careful consideration of what is heard. It’s a process of weighing the message, making a disciplined effort to identify its source (sifting), understanding what it demands of me, considering my possible responses and their likely results and being prepared to act.
Discernment is also about a relationship. Every bit as important as the what of my vocation is the Who. Further, since that someone is God, we must add to our definition a stronger requirement for action. Not only should I act, but once I have verified that the message comes from God, I must act in total obedience.
Discernment is, above all, an act of faith. “Faith sharpens the inner eye, opening the mind to discover in the flux of events the workings of Providence.” I am able to entrust my life to the leadings of God’s will because I believe in him. He’s my Father and he loves me. I believe, first of all, that he really has my best interests in mind: “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope.” (Jer. 29:11) I believe that he will provide the grace to empower me to fulfill whatever he asks of me: “Go then! It is I who will assist you…” (Ex. 4:12). I believe that his leading is not just a one-shot deal but a lifelong companionship: “No longer will your Teacher hide himself, but with your own eyes you shall see your Teacher, while from behind, a voice shall sound in your ears: ‘This is the way; walk in it.’” (Is. 30:20f)
I repeat what I’ve already said: for too many people, discernment is merely a process by which we permit God to approve what we have already decided in our hearts that we will do. This approach is for cowards, not Christians.
Real discernment is an adventure. It involves putting my cards on the table – all of them – and letting God direct me in the most intimate and important decisions of my life. He may very well choose a direction for me that is undesirable at first. He may frustratingly reveal only parts of his will – enough to derail my own plans but not enough to set me out on a clear, new direction.
When we think about discerning for real, we must admit that there are three fears that have a stranglehold on our hearts. The first is a fear of failure. We’re afraid that we’ll try to make it in a celibate vocation and put a lot of time and energy into it only to be told, far down the line, that it’s not God’s will. The second fear is one we’ve already discussed. It’s a fear of loneliness. Celibacy seems so solitary. We want stable, life-long companions we can count on…with skin on, please. Finally we’re afraid of losing ourselves; of giving up something that’s essential about the person I call “me.” Wearing the same clothes as others in a community; eating the same food, doing the same work and praying the same prayers. It’s so impersonal. We don’t want to become worker bees in some giant religious beehive.
Notice where these three fears attack us: identity, love and future happiness. Sound familiar? I’ll rephrase: Sense of Self (“I’m afraid I’ll lose what makes me me.”), Source of Love (“I’m afraid nobody will love me and I’ll be alone.”), and Hope of Happiness (“If I don’t do my own thing, I’m going to wind up a failure and a loser.”) Each fear is a direct assault on the foundations of our Table of Self Knowledge. Coincidence? Or do we discern, rather, what St. Ignatius of Loyola called, “the tail of the snake?”
When you get serious about discernment, remember that someone else is serious about stopping you. The enemy, as Ignatius reminds us, will be at work during your journey to confuse and confound your best efforts. His strategy in these early steps of discernment can take two forms. You’ll want to be on the lookout for both. The first is discouragement. The second is extremism or going overboard. An allegory I once heard described it well:
Let’s say you’re going to get on a horse (discernment) and ride to a distant city (your vocation). Satan is like a false friend who stands at your elbow as you prepare to get up on the horse and whispers to you about how dangerous and unpredictable horses can be and how many people die from accidents related to horseback riding, etc. Many people succumb to these subtle whisperings and decide not to get on the horse. Therefore, they never make it to the distant city.
But others are resolute. “No,” they say firmly, “I am certainly going to ride this horse!” In this case, the false friend has another trick up his sleeve. “Let me give you a little boost,” he offers, and when your foot is in his hands he lifts with all his strength and throws you headfirst over the horse and into the mud on the far side.
So it is with discernment. For many of us, the devil only has to whisper the risks and we decide that it’s too dangerous. Faith is the antidote to this fear. If you need more faith, ask for it. And take care to activate what faith you already have. Claim the promises of God, promises for a “future full of hope.” Furthermore when you recognize the tail of the snake, call the temptation by name, and reject the enemy’s deceptions.
For others who are unshakable in their intent, the enemy pushes them to take it too far. You may, for example, feel that things are not progressing fast enough in your search for God’s will – you may feel an impulse to start using various spiritual disciplines like additional fasting or very long hours of prayer to “force” God to move things along. You’ll be tempted to see those who caution you against overdoing it as lukewarm and out of touch with God. Take note: spiritual pride is a subtle snare. That’s why so many spiritual writers place great importance on trusting our advisors – God speaks to us through them as well as speaking to our own hearts.
FOUR BY FOUR FROM HERE
Our discernment journey now follows a four-by-four pattern to reach its conclusion. We’ll look at four facets of vocation and consider four critical points for each. They are the Call, the Cost, the Road and Reward.
The Call. Here we learn the art of listening to God. We’ll take a look at four ways God will speak to us: through our heart, our soul, our mind and our strength.
The Cost. These are the treasures we set aside in order to attain the greatest Treasure of all. There are four treasures we'll consider – freedom, sex, possessions and time. We’ll reflect on the meaning of sacrifice in light of the perfect offering of Christ.
The Road. What route should we take in our vocation? What are the possibilities? The Road will lay out the various courses to consider - the possible vocations the Lord may lay upon your heart.
The Reward. God is not outdone in generosity. Sacrifice is not without reward. When we make the Lord our Treasure, He entrusts his treasures to us in return.
Novena Prayer
Jesus says: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.”
Pier Giorgio responds: I offer you my best wishes – or, rather, only one wish, but the only wish that a true friend can express for a dear friend: may the peace of the Lord be with you always! For if you possess peace every day, you will be truly rich.
Let us Pray: Blessed Pier Giorgio, despite your daily struggles, you found peace by fostering your own well being in work, study and play; in prayer alone and with others; in silence and in song, in laughter and in serious conversation with friends. Guide me to that inner peace which will enable me to share peace with others.
Blessed Pier Giorgio, I ask for your intercession in obtaining from God, Who is our peace, all the graces necessary for my spiritual and temporal welfare. I confidently turn to you for help in my present need:
(in your own words, ask for the Lord to give you greater gratitude for the graces and gifts you have received from him.)
A Book of Prayers in Honor of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, by Rev. Timothy E. Deeter
Make it My Own
Daily Discernment Workbook
EXAMINE MY HEART
1. The Parable of the Shovels
We can’t help asking, “Is it really a bad thing if I don’t choose the vocation that God wants for me?” We also wonder if God can still make us holy if we take an easier path knowing that a more sacrificial way was possible. There is comfort in the knowledge that God works to sanctify us in whatever vocation we choose, but we should not conclude that he is indifferent to our decisions; especially if we knowingly avoid the rough road he sets before us. A parable may help us understand this mystery.
One day a wealthy rancher who lived in the outback discovered four men in the town market, poor migrants looking for work. He said to them, "Follow me," so they did. He led them back to his estate and, entering a large barn, he brought them to a place where many shovels were resting against the wall.
He addressed the men, "I am preparing to go on a journey, taking my cattle far away to auction. I can see that you are not from around here and do not know the local climate. In two weeks there will be a rainy season that lasts for a month. After that, a dry season that lasts for 3 months. If you do not dig cisterns to catch the rainwater, you will die from thirst in the subsequent drought. Use my land, then, to dig cisterns for yourselves. You may also use the shovels here resting against the wall."
The men thanked the rancher and were eager to start digging. They noticed, however, that there were two kinds of shovels. Some had large, broad blades but thick, rough handles. The remaining shovels had smaller, narrow blades with smooth handles. Unsure which kind to choose, each of the men asked the landowner what he would recommend.
To the first man's inquiry the rancher answered, "For you I say use the large-blade shovel with the rough handle," and so the man did.
When the second man questioned the landowner replied, "For you the smaller-blade shovel with the smooth handle is best." The man chose as he was advised.
But the third man did not do as he was told. "You also should use the smaller, smoother shovel," offered the rancher. "No,” the man boasted, “I want to dig the very biggest hole," as he stepped forward to take the broadest, roughest-handled shovel.
The last man also didn't listen. "Friend, take the broad blade," said the rancher. But he took a smaller shovel explaining, "The rough handle looks too uncomfortable."
So the men started to dig.
The first man worked hard and was able to carve out a very large cistern capable of holding many, many gallons of water. When the rains came, he had enough for his needs and some to share with the others besides.
The second man also worked very hard and although his blade was smaller, he made good progress because the shovel was just right for his build. He too was able to dig a cistern capable of holding much water. After the rainy season ended, he had enough to satisfy his thirst during the drought and, like the first man, some water leftover to share.
The third man’s situation did not work out so well. He labored with the rough handled shovel for a few days, but quickly developed blisters on his hands and a sore back to the point where he could no longer hold the shovel. Sneaking back to the barn he stole one of the smooth-handled shovels, but even so his digging was very painful. He could only carve out a small ditch that caught little rain. The first two men shared with him during the drought, but despite their efforts, he died of thirst.
The fourth man dug his cistern, but as the rains began to fall, he grew anxious. He realized he could have made better progress with the bigger shovel, that his hands and back were in fact strong enough to have handled the heavier equipment. The rains filled his cistern, and he survived the ensuing drought, but each night he thought about his friend, the third man. Somewhere in the dark he heard the man groaning; dying from thirst because he had used up his water.
The lesson
The rancher is Jesus and the men are various souls who are discerning. The shovels are two kinds of vocations: the broad-blade, rough shovels are celibate vocations, while the small-blade, smooth shovels are married vocations. The cisterns represent their lives of prayer and sacrificial service. The rainwater represents the grace available in this life, while the drought represents God’s purifying judgment.
The first two men who listen to Jesus and choose the vocation he recommends do the best because their shovels are well suited for them. They both have enough grace to more-than-satisfy their thirst for holiness - one by a celibate vocation and the other through marriage and family life. The third man chooses the 'better way' insofar as celibacy gives more opportunities for prayer and sacrificial service, but since it’s more than he can handle, he ends up quitting his vocation and getting married. The troubles of his life keep him from making much real progress in holiness.
The last man is sad because deep down he knows he could have helped the third man if his own life was more radical. He realizes that marriage and family life has still been a great blessing for his own spiritual journey, but sacrificing these blessings would have been far more fruitful for the Kingdom. He wonders if by the grace of his prayers and daily service to God, he might have won, in a celibate vocation, sufficient grace to be more help to his sad and disillusioned friend. Only at the final Judgment will he (and we) find out.
Be aware that the celibate vocation, likened to the first kind of shovel, is "rough" not because it is more difficult than the married state (the "smooth" instrument), but because celibacy is the life of heaven and of the age to come. Therefore it takes more faith for a person of the present age to live it. Marriage is proper to this age, and is therefore more readily suited to our present, temporal reality and to the order of nature.
Making Application
Do I detect in my own fears about celibacy a desire for an easier path? How much do I think this desire clouds my judgment?
As I have thought about various celibate vocations, have I been more interested in the radical appearance of certain groups (shaved heads, stark simplicity, ragged robes) or maybe caught up by the coolest-looking habits (impressive veils, flowing scapulars, a reputation for being the next big thing) rather than about asking God what he really wants for me? In other words, have I been like the man who grabbed for the biggest, roughest shovel and got more than he could handle?
Using my imagination, I place myself at the final judgment among those who have been chosen for a heavenly dwelling place in the company of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit with all the saints. As I observe other souls coming forward to receive judgment, I notice people I have known, some very well, among the souls not chosen for heaven. While God does not reproach me at all for their bad decisions, I can’t help wishing I had done more to persuade some of them. In the vision, I turn to the Father and cry out, “If only I could be sent back in time to speak to myself when I was deciding how my own life might be lived in your service, I would have warned me about this day!” The Father turns with a gentle smile and says, “I grant you this request.” And so now, write what advice your future self would impart to you as you are discerning God’s will at this time.
Conclude with
“Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son,
and to the Holy Spirit.
As it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be.
World without end, Amen.”
[1] Fides et Ratio, St. John Paul II, #18