Why is a spiritual teacher called a ‘spiritual’ teacher?
You don’t call a maths teacher a ‘mathematical’ teacher or a history teacher a ‘historical’ teacher.
The implication is that a spiritual teacher is spiritual – which may, as we all know, be far from the truth.
Where am I going with this?
Most of you know that for a decade I co-directed the Alternatives Programme at St. James’s Church, Piccadilly. I listened to and experienced around 500 ‘spiritual’ teachers. And . . . most of them were not very spiritual.
That’s a bit opinionated. So I have to clarify what, for me, I want to see in someone who claims to be spiritual. Here goes.
For me, a spiritual person is someone who is developing their relationship with the beautiful, awesome, benevolent mystery of the universe; and this relationship inspires them to be loving, compassionate and mindful.
I have been thinking about all this as I lead the Spiritual Companions Trust (SCT) and our National Schools Spiritual Wellbeing Project. In this role, I am working with many schoolteachers and their heads, exploring how best we can support their spiritual wellbeing, which in turn will support the wellbeing of their pupils and the whole school community. (There is an abundance of academic research – 10,000 peer-reviewed papers – demonstrating the health and wellbeing benefits of spirituality.)
And working with these schools I have experienced a reassuring and hopeful surprise.
I should have seen this surprise coming.
I did not foresee it because my mindset was coloured by my years of delivering our vocational qualification in practical spirituality and spiritual care. One of the challenges we continually meet in our year-long course is over-eager students who find it difficult just to be a quiet, kind, benevolent presence. Stop fixing. Stop talking. Just be present, patient, calm, embodied and reassuring. That soft skill is hard for many people.
My surprise – and it shouldn’t have been surprise — was that schoolteachers (along with many other professional and volunteer carers) are already well practised in the soft skill of calm reassurance. Safe body language. Kind listening eyes and ears. Open heart. Reassurance and patience. Or in another language: love in action.
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We often forget that to be a good schoolteacher, it is absolutely necessary to possess the soft skill of loving kindness. In the UK alone there are ten million children in school and teachers are the people, day by day, who support their development and growth. What an honour. What a responsibility.
But be realistic. Teachers daily lived experience in their schools is one of innumerable pressures – lack of resources, shifting policies, admin, challenging children and guardians. Many teachers experience burnout and leave the profession, often in their first years, and according to recent research seventy per cent of head teachers (principals) report stressed mental health. Despite these enormous challenges, most schoolteachers have the generosity of spirit to stay with their calling. Their lives have purpose and meaning. Their livelihood is one of service.
So, I am posing this enquiry. If the word ‘spiritual’ is an adjective describing people whose lives are dedicated to care and service, who are the real spiritual teachers?
If you can read this, thank a teacher.
Good article and discussion!
If you assume that our biggest problem is the conditioned or false self, a spiritual teacher is someone who has seen through their own false self sufficiently well that they can also see it operating in other people and show them how to get and stay clear of it.
I don’t think there’s one teacher for everybody. The best teacher for you might be someone who’s just one or two steps ahead of you, so that you can actually hear them when they speak to you from their own level of understanding.
Robin, thanks for the heads-up concerning Thomas Hübl, of whom I hadn’t previously heard. I’m looking at his website now.
On making a contribution to society; I like Andrew Harvey’s advice that you should “find your heartbreak” – locate the issue out in the world that upsets you so much that you feel compelled to try to do something to fix it. I don’t think we’re meant to (or even can) care about everything; that would be impossible for everyone except saints, and most of aren’t at that level (I’m certainly not myself).
Thanks, William, for a thought-provoking blog!
I’m reacting a bit to the demand for stillness, quiet and calm as properties all teachers of what we call spirituality should embrace. While I agree that it is very pleasant to encounter these people, there are also deeply spiritual people who are (loudly) expressive, creative, maybe even a bit wild.
To me, the definition above is lovely AND it totally excludes neurodivergent people, at least those who have trouble sitting still, or being discreet, or keeping their mouths shut.
Yes, I love calming New Age music, and I can also deeply enjoy, say Jacob Collier’s wonderfully creative and expansive expression of pure spirituality (what else is it??) as he brings joy and exuberance and fun just by showing up, not to mention the brilliant music he brings forth through pure inspiration. A wonderful example of someone turned on from the inside affecting millions across the world, bringing the realisation that we all have that God-spark in us. He was allowed to find his at a young age, some of us are still fumbling, but what an amazing example he is of just being who you are and not giving a fig about what others think… and then sharing that with the whole world.
I think the description you have, with all respect, William, while lovely, is a bit of a burden for people like me. It seems as though only certain types of people fit the bill, those who already have a predisposition to be those calm, collected, quiet, deeply listening beings. And yes, they often make brilliant teachers.
I’ve worked as a teacher myself and did my utmost to be more the way that you describe. I remember I’d promised myself I’d become that person before I retired… Somehow it never really happened. And it wasn’t because I didn’t love my pupils, or encourage them or work stubbornly, passionately to empower them, not just with knowledge but with self-knowledge. Some of them loved me back, some didn’t. That’s life.
Question: If we don’t call someone a spiritual teacher (someone who teaches the subject and practice of being spiritual), what should we call them instead, so as to not mix them up with the Math, French, Sports or Civics teacher? While we expect all of those to have gone through a particular type of learning so that they may teach, so called spiritual teachers have, thank goodness, no school they are forced to attend before beginning to teach other than their own contact with their own Spirit, with their God, their Oneness, their eternal being. What should these people be called?
And yes, we have some very highly respected spiritual teachers who have recently taken some hard knocks, and in some cases, rightly so. Does that mean that everything they have ever taught has now lost it’s meaning? Actually, if you think about it, there are so many spiritual teachers, gurus, priests, New Age leaders etc who use their status to gain unfair advantage over others… Again, has their teaching lost it’s meaning? Has, for example, TM stopped being an extremely effective meditation technique just because Maharishi apparently couldn’t help himself? I think not.
I believe we are all inherently spiritual, it’s just who we all are, and we express it differently, just like snowflakes or grains of sand or blades of grass. No one way is better than the other. Some ways are better in certain situations than others, that’s all. I think I’ll call myself a reminder.
Thank you for your post, William. Heartening to read your remarks regarding the calm, loving skill- set of school teachers. Though of course, frustrating and concerning about the chronic lack of support they receive.
I know someone who used to work in a junior high school as an Educational Assistant (with children with special needs). She often mentioned how E.A.’s & teachers generally were overworked and under-supported. Though I live in Canada, this regrettable situation, as in the U.K., seems fairly universal. Which makes the work you and your team are doing on the Schools Spiritual Wellbeing Project even more urgent and vital.
In reflecting on your query, one early-life example of a spiritual teacher came to mind. Not a spiritual teacher through overt guidance per se, but by living example.
This was my Finnish grandmother. Grandma Koll was a big soul in a small wiry frame, full of boundless love and energy. Grandma had a difficult childhood, yet chose to keep her heart open. I don’t think it occurred to her to do otherwise. Grandma’s main love language was cooking. Taking care of visiting family and friends seemed natural to her, not a burden in any way.
Grandma acquired a basic-level education. She wasn’t prone to spiritual discussions. No matter. A gentle yet palpable spiritual warmth emanated from her being, felt by everyone in her presence. Grandma rarely (if at all) talked ill of anyone. Not to say Grandma was a perfect or pious person by any means. Her love of watching pro wrestling and As the World Turns soap opera on t.v. seemed incongruent to her basic nature, but was also endearing.
Grandma was consistently open-hearted. She took whatever life threw at her graciously and with great fortitude. Kindness and being of service was second nature to her. To me, Grandma embodied what it means to be a truly spiritual person. I’m honoured and grateful to have known her in my life. As I am to have benefitted from your vast spiritual teachings and perspective, William. Thank you.
What is a spiritual teacher?
A beautiful question!
In my well-seasoned experience, both as a teacher and a learner, the notion of a ‘spiritual teacher’ easily becomes an oxymoron. Let me explain.
I have never been attracted to the teacher-student model. That is not to say that I have not felt deep respect and gratitude for all the wonderful and challenging teachers I have had the privilege to meet. It means that a strong teacher-student bond does not suit my learning style. Yet, I have learnt to recognise when a teacher becomes a good spiritual companion.
In a few words, it is a wise person who has all the time in the world to receive me where I am on my own spiritual journey: someone who neither abandons nor invades me; someone who from deep silence and stillness offers clarity of word and models compassion; someone who is steadfast and rooted in a wisdom tradition; someone who, unknowingly and generously, brings these same qualities alive in me. And I have been blessed to meet a few of such ‘teachers’.
For myself…
A spiritual teacher is someone who connects me to the unknowable – just by being. I’ve come across very few in my long lifetime and one is you, William. It’s a mystery. Can’t explain it. But I know when it happens and feel changed and enriched and plugged into “Spirit.”
A good teacher
Meets you where you are, is inspiring and encouraging. I agree love is action ….. they inspire by being and expressing themselves authentically…. A bit of fun and humour to make you smile.
Spot on, William! Kindness humility and compassion resonate to all souls, of all ages. I went to many talks at Alternatives, when I lived in Buckingham. I agree that many were there to ‘sell their wares’ as opposed to be present, listen, reply modestly, having listened to the audience. Hardly inspiring.
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Love in ACTION, it always is. Words are cheap. For me, a teacher is someone like Desmond Tutu, Thomas Merton and …. YOU. I’ve attended two workshops by you: 2011 and 2015, and you for sure are the real deal.
For me a true spiritual teacher is somebody who embodies a high-level of development along Ken Wilber’s 4 Lines of Development i.e. Waking up (prayer, contemplation, meditation) Growing up (psychological development individuation) Cleaning up (shadow integration, trauma integration) and Showing up i.e. making a contribution to society and the polycrisis.
In this, Thomas Huebl stands out to me.