Posts written by or centered on Jim Vaive — co-founder of spirit of EQ, Master Certified Coach, Certified Spiritual Director, and Narrative Enneagram teacher. These reflections draw on his own story of leadership, faith, and growth.

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What Happens in a Spiritual Direction Session?

If you’ve never experienced spiritual direction, it can be hard to picture. Not because it’s complicated, but because it’s quiet in a way that’s unusual — and quiet is hard to describe.

Jim remembers the first time he sat with a spiritual director, years before he trained to offer it himself. He walked in with something vague and heavy that he’d been carrying for weeks — not a crisis, just a weight he couldn’t name. He left an hour later without a single answer. And yet something had shifted. The weight was still there, but it had a shape now. He could see it, which meant he could begin to understand it.

That’s as close as he can get to describing what happens in a session. Let’s try to go a little deeper.

Before you arrive

Most spiritual directors suggest arriving with a loose sense of what you’d like to bring — not an agenda, exactly, but an openness to whatever feels most alive or most heavy in your life right now. You don’t need to have figured anything out in advance. The session itself will help you locate what’s most important.

Some people journal briefly beforehand. Others arrive mid-conversation with themselves and discover the thread once they sit down. All of this is fine. The preparation, to the extent it’s needed at all, is simply an intention to be present.

How it opens

Sessions typically begin with a moment of centering — a brief silence, a short prayer, a breath. Lynette and Jim both open their sessions this way, and not as formality. It’s a genuine attempt to shift the register of the conversation from the ordinary pace of a day into something slower and more attentive. Even a few seconds of silence at the opening does something. It marks this time as different.

From there, the director will typically offer a simple, open invitation: What would you like to bring today? And the conversation begins.

What the director does — and doesn’t do

This is where spiritual direction tends to surprise people most. Jim often says that his job in a session is to get out of the way — not of the person sitting across from him, but of whatever is already moving in them that hasn’t quite surfaced yet. A director doesn’t lead. Doesn’t teach. Doesn’t offer advice or suggest solutions or move the conversation toward a predetermined destination.

They listen — with a quality of attention that most of us rarely receive in ordinary life. What they’re listening for isn’t only the surface content of what you’re saying. They’re listening beneath it: for what seems to carry energy or weight, for what you keep circling back to without quite landing on, for what might be stirring in you that you haven’t yet given voice to.

Silence is part of the work. Neither Jim nor Lynette is uncomfortable with it. When you trail off, or pause, or lose the thread, they don’t rush in to fill the gap. They let it sit. Because sometimes the most important thing is just underneath the silence, and it surfaces when given room.

What you might talk about

Anything that belongs to your inner life. Grief. A recurring dream. A relationship that’s shifted in ways you can’t name. A decision you can’t make. A joy so unexpectedly large it frightened you a little. A long stretch of spiritual dryness. A sense of call toward something you’re not sure you’re equipped for.

Jim’s pastoral care work — including his accompaniment of individuals and small groups across faith traditions at Linworth United Methodist Church — has taught him that the thing people think they’re bringing into a session is rarely the only thing. Often it’s the doorway. What’s really there tends to show up once the room gets quiet enough.

Toward the close

Sessions typically run 50 to 60 minutes. As the end approaches, a director might gently offer a reflection — not a conclusion, but an observation about what seemed most alive in the conversation. Or they might invite you to name what you’re taking with you.

You won’t always leave with clarity. Sometimes you leave with a question that feels sharper than when you arrived, which is its own kind of progress. And sometimes a session is simply a session — a quiet hour of attentive presence that doesn’t produce a dramatic insight but is nonetheless doing something, slowly, over time.

Between sessions

Spiritual direction and spiritual formation tend to work best as an ongoing practice, meeting roughly monthly. Between sessions, many people find that the conversation continues internally — that the questions raised in a session keep surfacing in ordinary life, in unexpected moments, in the margins of ordinary days. That continuation is part of the work too. The director doesn’t go home when the session ends.

If you’ve been wondering what it would actually feel like, a free 15-minute conversation with Jim or Lynette is an easy way to find out — not a commitment, just a first conversation to see if this is the right kind of companionship for where you are.

Schedule with Jim: 

Schedule with Lynette:

Peace and every good.

 

About Jim & Lynette Vaive

Jim and Lynette Vaive are the co-founders of spirit of EQ and co-authors of The Mystical Seeker. They are Master Certified Coaches, certified Narrative Enneagram teachers, and Certified Spiritual Directors. Together they hold credentials in Spiritual Emotional Intelligence (SEQ) — a framework rooted in Lynette’s Doctor of Ministry research — and serve individuals, small groups, and organizations across faith traditions. Jim also serves at Linworth United Methodist Church.



What AI Can’t Do for Your Soul

It’s a strange moment to be a human being. You can now open an app at three in the morning and be met by something that listens patiently, never tires of you, and always says a version of the right thing. For a growing number of people, that’s exactly what’s happening. According to reporting in Fortune, therapy and companionship have become the number one use case for generative AI — up from number two the year before. The machine has learned to sound like a friend.

As people who have spent our careers at the intersection of emotional intelligence and the life of the soul, we’ve been watching this closely. And we think it raises a question worth sitting with: when a machine can imitate presence, what is it that we actually need — and what can only another human give?

The surprising thing the CEOs are saying

You might expect the leaders of the AI revolution to tell us that the human touch is obsolete. They’re saying the opposite. JPMorgan Chase’s Jamie Dimon, in a Fortune interview, offered this advice for the AI era: “Learn your EQ — emotional quotient — learn how to be good in a meeting, how to communicate, how to write. You’ll have plenty of jobs.” Microsoft’s Satya Nadella put it plainly: as AI takes over more analytical and technical work, emotional intelligence and empathy are becoming more important, not less. “IQ has a place,” he said, “but it’s not the only thing that’s needed in the world.” IBM’s Ginni Rometty has said much the same — that generative AI puts a premium on the things humans do best: judgment, collaboration, adaptability.

There’s something quietly vindicating in this, and we’ll admit it. For years — through our work at Six Seconds, the global emotional intelligence nonprofit, and in the Spiritual Emotional Intelligence framework rooted in Lynette’s doctoral research — we’ve argued that the inner human capacities are the ones that matter most. It turns out the people building the machines agree. But the deeper story isn’t about jobs. It’s about loneliness.

Naming a feeling is not the same as discerning it

Here’s where an earlier post in this series comes back to mind. A few weeks ago, in Reading Your Inner Weather, we wrote about the difference between naming an emotion and discerning it — between asking “What am I feeling?” and the deeper question, “Where is this feeling taking me — toward life, or toward fog?” We borrowed the old language of consolation and desolation for that inner weather.

An AI can help you name a feeling. It can label the storm with impressive fluency. What it cannot do is sit with you in the weather and help you discern its direction — because discernment isn’t information retrieval. It’s a relational, prayerful noticing that unfolds over time, between two people who trust each other. The chatbot has read about consolation; it has never been consoled. It can describe the fog; it has never had to wait, with you, for the light to come back. That waiting-with is not a data problem. It’s a human one.

What the loneliness researchers are seeing

Clay Routledge, an existential psychologist who has studied loneliness for twenty-five years, sounded a warning in Fortune this spring. Americans are already lonelier than they’ve been in generations — a 2025 American Psychological Association survey found that around half of adults report feeling isolated or lacking companionship, and research suggests roughly 37% suffer moderate to severe loneliness. Into that ache, the tech industry is offering AI companions as the cure.

Routledge doesn’t think it will work, and the early evidence is striking. In one study, first-year students were assigned to text daily with either a chatbot designed to be the perfect friend — endlessly attentive, validating, empathetic — or a randomly chosen human peer, or simply to journal. Only the students who texted a real human showed a meaningful drop in loneliness. The ones with the ideal-friend chatbot were statistically no better off than the ones who journaled alone. And over the longer term, Routledge notes, people who lean on AI for companionship tend to end up feeling more isolated, not less.

The one thing a machine can’t do: need you

Why would a tireless, always-available listener fail to heal our loneliness? Routledge’s answer is profound, and it’s worth reading slowly. We tend to think of connection as something we receive — support, attention, kindness. By that logic a well-built chatbot should do the job. But, he writes, “a socially fulfilling life is as much about what we do for others as what they do for us.” We feel we matter most not when we’re endlessly served, but when someone freely chooses to show up for us — and when we’re moved to show up in return.

That’s the line no machine can cross. As Routledge puts it, chatbots “don’t need us. They can’t make our lives matter.” A chatbot doesn’t decide to be there; it’s simply on. And because nothing is being freely given, nothing lands with the weight of real love. Over ninety percent of Americans, his research notes, name relationships as a key source of meaning — and the memories we treasure most are almost never about achievement. They’re about other people. Being cared for. Showing up. Belonging to something larger than ourselves.

Companioned, not processed

This is where a second post in this series presses in. In Companioned, Not Fixed, we drew a line between what therapy and coaching aim at and what spiritual direction offers — and we said the thing we most want people to hear: you are not a problem to be solved. You are a person to be accompanied.

An AI companion, however gentle, is built to do a version of solving. It optimizes, soothes, resolves, and keeps you engaged. A spiritual director does something stranger and older. A director is, in the most literal sense, the opposite of a chatbot — a human being who freely chooses to show up for you, who doesn’t need you as a customer but chooses to companion you anyway. The attention offered in direction is not generated on demand; it’s given, personally and deliberately, by someone who could be doing something else and has decided to be with you instead.

What AI Can’t Do for Your Soul Reflection Sheet

That freely-chosen presence is the whole point. In direction there is no algorithm optimizing for engagement, no incentive to keep you on the app. There is a person paying holy, unhurried attention while you notice your own life and the Presence already at work within it. You are not being processed. You are being accompanied — and, in the deepest sense, you are being needed, because your showing up matters to the person across from you too.

Use the tools. Don’t outsource your soul.

None of this makes AI the enemy. We use it; you probably do too. It can draft and summarize and even offer a decent prompt for reflection. The question isn’t whether to use these tools — it’s what we quietly hand over to them without noticing. It’s one thing to let a machine schedule your week. It’s another to let it become the only voice that hears your three-in-the-morning fears. The first is convenience. The second is the slow substitution of simulation for communion.

So here is our invitation, in an age of artificial everything: keep the tools in their place, and keep your soul in the company of people who freely choose you. Talk to a friend who needs you back. Sit in a room with your community. And if you long for a companion for your inner life — someone to help you listen for the deeper questions, and to matter to in the listening — that is precisely what spiritual direction offers. A chatbot can sound like a friend. It cannot make you matter. Only a person can do that. We’d be honored to be those people for you.

Schedule with Jim:

Schedule with Lynette: 

Peace and every good.

About Jim & Lynette Vaive

Jim and Lynette Vaive are the co-founders of spirit of EQ and co-authors of The Mystical Seeker. They are Master Certified Coaches, certified Narrative Enneagram teachers, and Certified Spiritual Directors. Together they hold credentials in Spiritual Emotional Intelligence (SEQ) — a framework rooted in Lynette’s Doctor of Ministry research — and serve individuals, small groups, and organizations across faith traditions. Jim also serves as a pastoral caregiver at Linworth United Methodist Church

Fortune — Clay Routledge on loneliness and AI companions (May 2026) — https://fortune.com/2026/05/23/loneliness-researcher-ai-companions-social-disconnection-warning/

Fortune — Jamie Dimon on EQ and soft skills in the AI era (Dec 2025) — https://fortune.com/2025/12/14/jamie-dimon-soft-skills-emotional-intelligence-communication-ai-eliminates-roles/

Fortune — AI makes human intelligence more important, not less (Jan 2026) — https://fortune.com/2026/01/22/mckinsey-bob-sternfels-ai-makes-human-intelligence-more-important-not-less/

 

When Is the Right Time for Spiritual Direction?

There’s a question that comes up almost every time someone expresses interest in spiritual direction, and it usually sounds something like this: Am I ready for something like that?

Jim has heard this question more times than he can count — in pastoral care conversations, in introductory sessions, in the quiet pause before someone finally picks up the phone to schedule. And his honest answer, every time, is some version of this: there is no ideal moment. But there are seasons that tend to open people to it. Recognizing yours might be the most useful thing this post can offer.

When something is ending or beginning

In 2008, Varment Guard — the pest control and wildlife management company Jim co-founded after eight months of preparation, the one with “Failure was not an option” painted above the door — hit the full force of the financial crisis. The company survived. But the season of navigating that uncertainty, of trying to discern what was worth holding and what needed releasing, was one of the most clarifying of Jim’s life. Not because it was easy — it wasn’t — but because it forced a quality of attention that ordinary times don’t require.

Transitions do that. A job ending. A relationship shifting. Children leaving home. A diagnosis. Even positive transitions carry loss inside them, and most of us don’t have a space specifically designed to hold that complexity. Spiritual direction and spiritual formation make room for the full texture of transitions — the grief and the hope, the relief and the fear — without trying to flatten any of it. If you’re in a between-space right now, that’s not a reason to wait. It’s often exactly the right time.

When you’re trying to discern something

Discernment — the practice of understanding what is truly yours to do, to choose, to release — is one of the oldest reasons people have sought spiritual companionship. Jim and Lynette’s years at Six Seconds, the global emotional intelligence nonprofit, were rich with this kind of work: helping leaders and organizations understand not just what they wanted to accomplish, but what was worth wanting in the first place. That distinction is at the heart of discernment. And it’s one of the things spiritual direction is extraordinarily well-suited to hold.

It doesn’t have to be a dramatic crossroads. Sometimes discernment looks like trying to understand why a particular relationship keeps surfacing in your thoughts. Why a certain path feels both right and frightening. Why you can’t shake a sense of call toward something you don’t have language for yet.

When your inner life feels flat or distant

This one surprises people. They assume spiritual direction is for moments of intensity — crisis, grief, breakthrough. But some of the most significant formation happens in the seasons that feel quiet to the point of emptiness. The plateau. The long stretch of ordinary days when nothing seems to be happening spiritually, and you’re not sure whether that’s rest or loss.

Howard Thurman — one of the contemplative voices that has most shaped Jim’s own formation — wrote about the soul’s need for intervals of quiet that aren’t actually empty, even when they feel that way. A skilled director knows how to be present with you in those stretches without rushing you out of them. Which is often exactly what they need.

When you’ve had an experience you don’t have words for

Sometimes something happens — in prayer, in nature, in a moment of unexpected stillness — and you find yourself thinking: what was that? Not with alarm, but with a kind of alert attention. Something shifted. Something landed.

Jim grew up in Detroit with two professional artist parents who taught him, without using these words, that what’s beneath the surface of things is worth your most careful attention. That instinct has shaped everything he does as a coach, a spiritual director, and a person of faith. Spiritual direction is one of the few spaces in most people’s lives where that kind of experience is taken seriously on its own terms — not explained away, not spiritualized into a tidy category, but listened to with genuine care.

When you’ve been carrying something alone for too long

This may be the simplest of all. Some things aren’t appropriate for therapy. Some things aren’t quite what a friend or spouse is equipped to hold. Some things belong to the inner life in a way that doesn’t translate easily into the ordinary rhythms of conversation.

Lynette and Jim have both sat with people carrying things for years that had never quite had a container — not because they lacked good relationships, but because what they were carrying required a particular kind of listening. The kind that doesn’t rush, doesn’t fix, doesn’t need you to arrive at a conclusion by the end of the hour.

You don’t need to be in crisis. You don’t need to be spiritually advanced. What you need is a sense that your inner life is worth this kind of attention — and the willingness to find out what it might surface if given the space.

If any of these seasons sound familiar, a free, no-obligation 15-minute conversation with Jim or Lynette is a gentle next step. Just a chance to talk about where you are and whether this is the right kind of company for the road.

Peace and every good.

Schedule with Jim: 

Schedule with Lynette: 

 

About Jim & Lynette Vaive

Jim and Lynette Vaive are the co-founders of spirit of EQ and co-authors of The Mystical Seeker. They are Master Certified Coaches, certified Narrative Enneagram teachers, and Certified Spiritual Directors. Together they hold credentials in Spiritual Emotional Intelligence (SEQ) — a framework rooted in Lynette’s Doctor of Ministry research — and serve individuals, small groups, and organizations across faith traditions. Jim & Lynette also serves as a pastoral caregivers in the United Methodist Church.

What People Get Wrong About Spiritual Direction

 

There’s a particular kind of confusion that comes up almost every time spiritual direction is mentioned. People hear “spiritual” and think church. They hear “direction” and think someone’s about to tell them what to do. Neither is quite right, and the confusion is understandable — it’s an old practice with a name that doesn’t translate easily into how we talk now.

So let’s start with what it actually is.

Spiritual direction is a confidential, one-on-one companionship that creates space to notice where the sacred is already present in your everyday life — your joys, struggles, questions, and transitions. Not where it should be, or where you wish it were. Where it already is, whether or not you’ve had language for it yet.

That noticing happens through deep listening. A director isn’t formulating a response while you talk; they’re paying attention — to your words, to what’s underneath them, to the silences. Conversation, prayer, silence, reflection — these are the tools, but the posture underneath all of them is the same: compassion without judgment, curiosity without an agenda.

It’s also, importantly, not a single appointment that wraps something up. Spiritual direction tends to unfold as an ongoing relationship, typically meeting monthly, because the things worth paying attention to in a life rarely show themselves all at once. They surface slowly, in fragments, across seasons. A director who’s been walking with you for a year can hear an echo in this month’s session that connects to something you said eight months ago — and that kind of continuity is part of what makes the practice work.

And it’s open to anyone. You don’t need a particular faith tradition, or any tradition at all, to do this work. The starting point is always your own lived experience, not a doctrine you’re being measured against.

Is This What I’m Looking For? Reflection Sheet

Now, what it isn’t — because this matters just as much.

It isn’t therapy or counseling. A spiritual director isn’t trained to diagnose or treat mental health conditions, and a good one will know that boundary well and respect it. Plenty of people find real value in having both a therapist and a spiritual director at the same time — one tending to the mind, one tending to the soul, each doing its own work without trying to be the other.

It isn’t religious instruction. Nobody hands you a doctrine to follow or grades how faithfully you’re practicing. If you came expecting a syllabus, you’d be disappointed — and that’s by design. The conversation starts with you, not a curriculum.

It isn’t advice-giving or problem-solving. This might be the hardest one for people used to efficiency. A director isn’t going to hand you a three-step plan. Instead, they ask the kind of questions that help you find your own clarity — slower, yes, but often truer, because it’s clarity you arrived at rather than clarity you were handed.

And it isn’t a quick fix. Like most things worth doing, it unfolds gradually, session by session. If you’re looking for a fast resolution to something, this isn’t that. If you’re looking for a steady companion while you sit with something that doesn’t resolve quickly — grief, a discernment, a season of change — this might be exactly that.

So who is this actually for?

Anyone in a season of discernment. Anyone carrying grief that hasn’t found its shape yet. Anyone who senses there’s more going on beneath the surface of their days but hasn’t had a space — or a companion — to slow down enough to notice it.

If that’s resonating, here’s an easy next step: a free, no-obligation 15-minute conversation with either of us, just to talk it through. No pressure, no commitment — just a chance to see if this is the right fit for where you are right now. 

Schedule with Jim:

Schedule with Lynette: 

Peace and every good.

 

Eddy Hopping: Navigating Life’s Rapids

It occurs to me that life is complicated. Yeah Jim, we know that, and as a start to the new year and where we set those pesky new year’s resolutions, it made sense to do a series on resting in the face of life’s rapids.

As I stood at the edge of the river, the roar of the rapids ahead filled me with a mix of excitement and apprehension. I was going to go down the New River and hit those class 4 and 5 rapids with purpose. The guide’s voice cut through the noise and my reflection, explaining the technique of “eddy hopping”—a method where paddlers skillfully navigate from one calm eddy to another, using these brief pauses to assess, plan, and gather strength before tackling the next rapid. This technique, I realized, mirrored the challenges and strategies in my own life. And there were and are a lot of them.

The Metaphor of Eddy Hopping

In whitewater paddling, an eddy is a calm area of water formed behind obstacles like rocks or bends in the river. Paddlers use eddy hopping to navigate through challenging rapids by moving from one eddy to the next, allowing for brief moments of respite and reflection. This approach can be applied to personal development in several ways:

  1. Strategic Pauses: Just as paddlers pause in eddies to assess their path, we can take moments in our lives to reflect, gather strength, and make thoughtful decisions.
  2. Continuous Learning: Each “hop” from one challenge to the next is an opportunity to learn, adapt, and grow.
  3. Purposeful Progression: By moving intentionally from one goal to another, we maintain direction and momentum in our personal and professional lives.

Applying Eddy Hopping to Personal Development

Reflecting on my own journey, I recognized several areas where the principles of eddy hopping could be applied:

  1. Set Clear Goals: I began by defining what each “eddy” represented in my life—be it a project, relationship, or personal milestone. This clarity provided a roadmap for my journey.
  2. I needed to embrace the Journey: Understanding that each step, or “hop,” was part of a larger process helped me celebrate small victories and learn from setbacks. I realized that the journey itself was as important as the destination. I can share with you now that when I saw the first class 5 rapids my heart skipped a beat — they are very scary.
  3. Maintain Balance: Just as paddlers must balance their boat to navigate eddy lines, I recognized the importance of balancing my efforts to avoid burnout and ensure sustainable progress. This meant setting realistic expectations and taking time for self-care. We were in a raft and that meant working together.
  4. Seek Support: In paddling, teamwork is crucial. Similarly, I understood the value of surrounding myself with supportive individuals who could provide guidance, encouragement, and shared wisdom. Building a network of mentors and peers became a priority.

Overcoming Personal Challenges

Applying the concept of eddy hopping to my life was not without its challenges. There were moments when the rapids seemed overwhelming, and the next eddy appeared distant. During these times, I reminded myself of the importance of strategic pauses. Taking a moment to breathe, reflect, and reassess my path allowed me to approach challenges with renewed clarity and purpose. And if you remember from other blogs, Centering prayer (or Meditation) is an important part of my routine each morning as I eddy hop from day to day.

Continuous learning became a cornerstone of my journey. Each setback was something I tried to view as an opportunity to adapt and grow. I embraced the idea that mistakes were not failures but steppingstones toward improvement. This mindset shift transformed my approach to challenges, making them less daunting and more manageable. And one of the ways I did it was to remember that while other people’s opinions were important to me, they were not going to help me if they were negative.

Intentional progression required me to set clear, achievable goals and move towards them with intention. I learned to break down larger objectives into smaller, actionable steps, making the journey less overwhelming and more structured. This approach provided a sense of direction as I checked off each success.

Maintaining balance was perhaps the most challenging part. In the pursuit of goals, it was easy to become consumed by work and responsibilities. However, I recognized the importance of self-care and the need to recharge. Just as a paddler must rest to navigate the river effectively, I understood that taking time for myself was essential for sustained progress.

Seeking support was transformative. I reached out to mentors, friends, and colleagues who offered diverse perspectives and encouragement. Their insights and experiences provided valuable guidance, reminding me that I was not alone in my journey.

The Role of Resilience

Resilience played a pivotal role in my application of eddy hopping principles. Life, much like the river, is unpredictable and filled with obstacles. Embracing the concept of eddy hopping taught me to navigate these challenges with purpose and resilience. Each eddy provided a moment to regroup, reflect, and prepare for the next rapid, reinforcing the idea that setbacks are temporary and part of the journey.

Putting it all together

Eddy hopping in whitewater rafting is more than a technique; it’s a philosophy of navigating challenges with purpose, precision, and resilience. By adopting this approach, I learned to steer through life’s rapids, making deliberate choices that led me toward my desired destination. The journey, with its ebbs and flows, became a testament to the power of strategic pauses, continuous learning, purposeful progression, and the support of a community. As I continue to navigate the river of life, I carry with me the lessons learned from each eddy, each rapid, and each moment of reflection, knowing that with each hop, I am moving closer to the person I aspire and want to be.

Dismantling the Inner Empire

Today for the day after Christmas I want to write a blog that talks about the Spirituality of Christ. In recent years, the troubling realities of living in the world that has come home to roost on many of us. Being one of the only worlds superpowers what is ours to do? As a country that bases its whole existence on democratic foundations, what is ours to do.When Christ came to us his message was simple, Love and non-violence.

( Democratic foundations are the core principles and structures ensuring rule by the people, including popular sovereigntyindividual rights (freedom, justice, equality), rule of lawfree & fair electionschecks & balances, and an engaged civil society, all working to create accountable, inclusive governance and protect against tyranny. These foundations rely on active public participation, independent institutions, and transparency to build trust and uphold democracy and have nothing to do with political parties)

 

This disintegration of the world’s foundations today provides us with a profound moral and spiritual decision, just as Jesus talked about for his entire life. The four cornerstones of our internal empire as talked about by many wisdom teachers throughout history are—political, economic, military, and ideological power—which serve to enslave our very spirits and how we look at other communities. These communities can be and are not limited to any color, political persuasion, gender, and so forth. And while the first three cornerstones impose harsh realities on the very bedrock of our personhood, it is the ideological power that is the most insidious, shaping and distorting the minds and spirits of both the outside of us and inside of us What Jesus is talking about in his ministry is about the Roman empire, and using that example how we were to live our life’s. This example of course was not limited to the Roman empire because all world superpowers throughout history have acted like this. Jesus came to us in a time when the Romans happened to be in charge.

This moment in history calls for critical self-reflection. We have been indoctrinated by the very forces that uphold the American Ideal, taught to prioritize profit over people and individualism over interdependence. Such values lead to a disembodiment of God’s love, creating an inner empire in each of us that must be dismantled and rebuilt. Those of us calling ourselves Christians, (and others as well) are called to respond with clarity and love, embodying values that reflect the teachings of Jesus.

The Four Cornerstones of the Inner Empire

The traditional Inner Empire is built upon four cornerstones: supremacy, privilege, hatred, and fear. Each of these elements contributes to the dehumanization of both us and others.

  1. Supremacy: This cornerstone embodies the belief in our inherent superiority over others. It fosters division and alienation, leading us to view others as less than ourselves.
  2. Privilege: This refers to the unearned advantages we often take for granted, which we protect or ignore at the expense of     marginalized communities, see above. Recognizing our privilege is essential for fostering empathy and understanding.
  3. Hatred: Hatred manifests as active hostility toward others or even parts of ourselves. It creates barriers that prevent us from experiencing authentic love and connection and understanding.
  4. Fear: Fear drives us to protect ourselves at all costs. When we fear losing control, status, or safety, we build walls that isolate us from others and from God’s love.

Understanding how these cornerstones corrode our souls is crucial. The question then arises: what can restore our souls?

The Cornerstone of Restoration

In Matthew 21:42, we read, “The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.” This verse speaks to the transformative power of Jesus, who was a tekton—a builder in the truest sense. As a day laborer, Jesus understood the intricacies of construction, not just of physical structures but of the spiritual and communal foundations we need to thrive.

To rebuild our foundation, we must adopt four new cornerstones: humility, responsibility, compassion, and connection. These practices can help restore our humanity toward ourselves and others, paving the way for a world where, as Pope Francis states, “land, lodging, and labor” are accessible to all.

  1. Humility: This cornerstone allows us to see one another as equals, fostering deep reverence and openness. It reminds us of our shared existence in the vast cosmos, where we are all stardust.
  2. Responsibility: Embracing responsibility means being accountable for our actions and becoming stewards of one another and the land. It encourages us to act with integrity and care.
  3. Compassion: Compassion nurtures empathy, love, and benevolence, enabling us to tap into God’s tenderness for the world. It invites us to extend grace to ourselves and others. Have you ever considered that everyone in the world is doing the best they can with what they know and what they know is not what you understand.
  4. Connection: Perhaps the most vital cornerstone, connection teaches us about radical solidarity and belonging. It reminds us that when one group suffers injustice, we all suffer. Our sacred interconnectedness calls us to action.

A Call to Courage

 

My parents went to see MLK in 1961 at Cobo Hall in Detroit and came home and said, we are moving to the inner city, the real inner city. My brother and I freaked out. What did that mean for our lives, our friends and what we had come to think of as normal. So, in and around June of 1962 we moved to Highland Park just off Woodward on Massachusetts Ave and settled in for a life changing experience. Now it was not going to be all bad I thought as there was a public library and Howard Johnsons at the end of the street where a chocolate milkshake could be had now and then with the right amount of change from bottle collecting. But then reality set in, I Iooked around and saw very few people that looked like me, (white) and was not sure how to act at 10 years of age.

I tried to make friends and was looked at with suspicion and caution which at the time did not understand, because look at me, I am a very nice guy. Then the beatings started because I was told this was not my place to be. And while those beatings were not fair or just, I had a choice to make at those moments, was I going to hate or love. Luckily my parents taught me to see the dignity in each person and separate actions from intent. So, I had a leg up on many others and friends, those years molded my soul to see beyond the veil and embrace all of life.

When we want to dismantle the inner empire, we must have the courage to shake the very foundations of our spiritual world. By examining our entitlement, privilege, and positions of power, we can rediscover our true understanding of self, others, God, and the planet. This process requires vulnerability and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.

Creating the world we desire begins with ourselves. We must dismantle the inner empires we have built brick by brick, belief by belief. The empire within must fall so that solidarity, justice, and love can rise.

As we embark on this journey of transformation, let us remember the words of Joanna Arellano-Gonzalez, cofounder and Director of Spiritual & Theological Formation with the Coalition for Spiritual & Public Leadership. Her work emphasizes the importance of spiritually rooted community organizing, reminding us that we are not alone in this endeavor. Together, we can build a more just and loving world.

In conclusion, the call to dismantle the inner empire is not just a personal journey; it is a collective one. By embracing humility, responsibility, compassion, and connection, we can restore our souls and create a society that reflects the values of love and justice. Let us rise to this challenge, for the world we want to see begins within us.

This blog was inspired by the writing of Joanna Arellano-Gonzalez who is a cofounder and the Director of Spiritual & Theological Formation with the Coalition for Spiritual & Public Leadership, a spiritually rooted community organizing coalition in the Chicagoland area. Visit their work at csplaction.org.