A Guide to the Chapters
Definitions of spiritual direction from the sixteenth through twenty-first centuries are surveyed here, organized around two questions: how direction is conducted and what it is meant to achieve. The chapter also examines debates over authority, the meanings of the words "spiritual" and "direction," formats beyond the familiar in-person, one-to-one conversation, and how the director's role has been understood across time and traditions.
A century of conversation between psychology and spiritual direction unfolds across four phases, from cautious optimism in the 1880s through the Rogers-influenced integration of the 1960s and 70s. The chapter closes with two critics arguing that psychology may have reshaped the spiritual life more than it served it.
The recovery of Ignatian spirituality from institutional distortion, and its rise as the dominant framework for modern spiritual direction training, is the central story here. Three of the four early Spiritual Exercises training programs are profiled, along with the spread of the Exercises to lay people through the "19th Annotation" format.
Five influential twentieth-century Catholic authors reveal a remarkably consistent vision of the Three-Way tradition organized around purgation, illumination, and union. The chapter shows how that tradition functioned in practice and how Jean Laplace's 1965 work began to signal the shift toward a more collaborative model.
Working largely outside official structures, Baron Friedrich von Hügel, Thomas Merton, and Adrian van Kaam each developed alternatives to the dominant Catholic tradition. Together they provided the vocabulary and conceptual foundations that training programs in the 1970s would later build on.
Five key figures across the twentieth century show how Anglicans preserved spiritual direction as an expected clerical duty while developing distinctively English approaches to its practice. The chapter argues that this tradition, largely overlooked by the first Catholic training programs, anticipated many questions those programs would later have to answer.
Rather than abandoning spiritual guidance, Protestants reimagined it, developing alternatives such as letter-writing, Wesleyan accountability groups, and Clinical Pastoral Education. The chapter follows these developments through the twentieth century to the emergence of the first Protestant graduate training program in 1978.
The collapse of traditional Catholic religious life, the exodus from religious communities, and Vatican II's new openness to lay and women directors together explain why formal spiritual direction training emerged when it did. The chapter introduces the five first-generation training programs and the analytical framework used to compare them in the chapters that follow.
Adrian van Kaam's program at Duquesne University offered minimal hands-on training in spiritual direction but supplied the conceptual infrastructure that allowed the field to cross denominational boundaries. Its interdisciplinary "meta-language" proved especially accessible to Evangelical Protestants who could not engage more explicitly Catholic frameworks.
Founded by five Jesuits in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1971, CRD became the program most associated in popular memory with the origins of modern spiritual direction training. The chapter profiles William Connolly's companion-facilitator model, William Barry's adaptation of CPE supervision methods, and the lasting influence of their jointly authored 1982 text.
ISL's conviction that psychology and spirituality "swim in the same river" set it apart from CRD, and the chapter traces that difference to three sources: Chicago's unusually integrated theological environment, the Cenacle Sisters' century-long tradition of holistic accompaniment, and the distinctive collaboration of founders Irene Dugan and Paul Robb. Over 44 years, ISL trained approximately 700 students and carried its integrative approach throughout the field.
Tilden Edwards' contemplative retreats and his conviction that a direct, non-directive relationship with God was the heart of spiritual formation gave rise to Shalem, a program that stood apart from the more skill-focused Ignatian programs. Sustained personal practice, rather than technique, was its primary formation tool.
Founded at Wainwright House in Rye, New York, the Guild wove together Jungian depth psychology, Christian mystical tradition, and attention to dreams into a curriculum shaped by collective discernment rather than a single founder's vision. John Yungblut's lifelong integration of contemplative theology and social justice gave the program a distinctive edge, including an explicit warning against inward-focused spirituality disconnected from service to others.
From five pioneering programs, the field grew to more than eighty; the chapter traces how second-generation programs adopted and adapted first-generation models around four themes: accessibility, social justice integration, extension into Jewish and interfaith contexts, and the balance between classroom formation and experiential practicum. University-based programs offered theological depth and institutional credibility, while independent programs prioritized experiential formation and each made trade-offs the other could not.
Stepping back from narrative, the chapter uses McCarty's analytical framework to compare first-generation programs across five core questions about teachability, duration, psychology's role, theological grounding, and admissions. Every program, the chapter argues, carries assumptions about God, grace, and human transformation, and the programs that named those assumptions openly gave participants a clearer foundation for their work.
Four persistent tensions surface from the full historical investigation: theology's particularity versus universality, individual versus communal spirituality, the sources of a director's authority, and the balance between charism and trained skill. The book closes with the author's personal reflection that recognizing the tradition as a human construction shaped by history opens rather than forecloses the possibility of faithful innovation.