Follow Your Nose

Ever since I got the first inkling of a notion that I should go to seminary and prepare to become a Pastor, I have lived with a word, which I think I have largely misunderstood and often misused.  That word is discernment.  For those of you who have never dipped a toe into the waters of theological education, you probably have no idea how much this particular D word gets fumbled around with by students and professors and church advisers alike.  From the very beginning they talk about discerning your call, meaning trying to become clear on whether or not you actually want to do this thing called ministry, whether it is actually God's Spirit moving in you or some misguided inner voice that is pushing you to follow a career path that it quite frankly not exactly a bed of roses.  Then you discern what sort of ministry you would like to pursue, then you discern where and with whom you are going to pursue it.
Every time someone says "discernment," this deep spiritual process moves across your heart and mind like a fog, and you think, "Ahhh discernment, yes, learning what God wants from me and for me... deep water indeed."
Oddly enough though discernment actually ends up being fairly mundane in most cases.  It is accomplished mostly by finding the place where you and your gifts fit into something.  This in itself can seem arcane when you're in seminary because you rarely have a very firm grasp on who you are and what your gifts (at least for ministry) may actually be.  For instance, for the first year of seminary the idea of preaching was terrifying.  So much so that I would often tell people I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to be a Pastor, but maybe some other form of service to the church (I have no idea what I even meant by that).  As it turns out, preaching is sort of my favorite thing to do, and has become the core of what I do in ministry.
But I never really got around this vague, mystical sort of idea about discernment, until last month.  The Camino taught me to follow my nose (and a guidebook when necessary), to just sort of take each day and each need one step at a time, and watch what God does for you.
I know what you're thinking: "But you can't do that with life, you would inevitably run into to trouble!"  And you may be right, I haven't and in fact I don't think I know anyone who has truly learned to completely let go of all their plans and schemes.  But I do know that the more I trusted God for the needs of the day, the more I found blessings, and I know that sounds sort of prosperity-gospel-ish, but really it simply amounted to a state of mind that was more open to seeing God working.  It wasn't that God was somehow more present, and more active, it was just that I was more aware of the presence and the acting.  It wasn't that I always got what I wanted, but as the Rolling Stones point out, I got what I needed.  Which consequently was not always what I wanted, but was often something I did not expect, but really needed more than I knew.
A couple places stand out: Carrion de los Condes, where we stayed in a parochial albergue run by Augustinian Nuns, the place was crowded, the showers ran out of hot water and we barely managed to find it in the first place, but the Nuns had an evening sing along before Vespers, they sang us folk songs and invited us to share songs of our own.  Being as there was a guitar involved, I sang Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah for the group, and the Nuns and other folk joined in the chorus that just rang out in the common area.  A few people were moved to tears, and I certainly felt a sense of the Spirit moving among us, and it opened doors to people we hadn't really been able to connect with because of language barriers.  I was a little hesitant about the song, I was a little hesitant about taking the stage, but there was an invitation, and it just seemed like the right thing, and it was.
Another: La Faba, half way up the climb to O Cebriero, it was a German run association albergue, in a little town that was so far from anywhere, the beds were like medieval torture devices and again it was crowded and had too few bathrooms, but the place was immensely restful and peaceful, and there was a guitar to play.  A man who spoke very little English was listening to Dad and I pass the guitar back and forth and obviously enjoying the music.  He came over and asked me if I could play the song that he had on a video on his phone, it was a video of a wedding, a video I had seen before, a video of a priest singing, you guessed it: Hallelujah.  I could and I did and for the second time someone was moved to tears, and not because of my singing voice.
I was just doing what I wanted, maybe even what I needed, and the Spirit moved.  I was just following my nose and finding those places where I was supposed to be.  It was discernment, but not vague or super spiritual, just letting God put you where you're supposed to be.  Know when to stop, know when to go, know when to sing.  Be who you are, give it over to God and watch what happens.