Why does spiritual formation receive so little response from the Church? History provides some answers. Is Saint John of the Cross truly known? The answer is no. Many people quote him, and some even teach his writings. But if one looks closely, it becomes evident that he is only cited here and there, while the core of his doctrine remains largely unexplored and unpresented.
Shockingly, I would dare to say the same applies to Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus. Have we really understood her? These are great saints—giants—and yet see how many centuries it takes the Church to truly know them, to discover them, and to integrate their teaching. That in itself is a powerful lesson. I would go further and offer another example: Jean-Jacques Olier, founder of the Sulpician Fathers, a great man and mystic. Has he been declared a saint? Not yet. How many centuries will the Church need to recognise his sanctity? And so on. When one studies Church history, one does not see short periods, but long—and often very long—spans of time before such recognition and assimilation occur.
So, to continue answering this fundamental question: how does one cope with such a lack of response from the Church members? In the School of Mary, what we offer and teach is the spiritual life—spiritual formation. We believe in the second conversion, in hearing Jesus’ call. We make a clear distinction between two statements: “All the faithful are called to holiness” and “Hearing Jesus’ personal call in the heart is something that happens in time, when it is the right time”, a time we do not know, though we can prepare for it. (See the following articles: Hearing Jesus’ Call and A Call is a Call.)
When one teaches spiritual formation with this level of depth, a fundamental truth becomes clear: only those personally and directly called by God respond to this kind of formation. All the members of the School of Mary understand this truth.
When we organise a course, we know that it is God who directly invites people. Yes, we may do the advertising—but it is God who truly invites, by His grace, through an interior prompting that no one can control. But a call is a call. And, as we see in the Gospels, the Gospel begins with the calling of the disciples and apostles. Jesus calls—He is sovereign, absolutely and completely. “So then it is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.” — Romans 9:16, NKJV. Some may even desire to follow Him on a purely human level, but as we see in John chapter 6, at a certain point they stop following Him.
In many ways, God has shown us in the School of Mary that this is a fundamental rule: it is not our will or our efforts that bring people. One year, we distributed 11,000 leaflets in parishes across London—and only 43 people turned up. Another year, a priest who was accompanied by more than 40 young people was confident they would all attend—but only four or five came. We know now that only those who are called—those drawn from within—will respond. The right person, at the right time, ready to receive this, is known only by God and by Our Lady. It is Her domain.
Of course, the Church must fervently promote the necessary steps that prepare for this calling: a thorough preparation of the faithful through adult catechesis (OCIA), and a serious invitation to full and total commitment. (See what St Teresa says about the Third Mansions and the crossing into the Fourth in her Interior Castle, and what she recommends in Way of Perfection to ensure steady spiritual growth—namely, the perfecting of the virtues.)
To illustrate further, I might quote one of the French Carmelite Fathers, Fr Joseph Baudry OCD, who described Carmelite life as follows: “The Carmelite is a hermit with his door left ajar.” That is, he remains in his cell and serves whoever God sends to him. Otherwise, he does not leave his solitude.
Of course, remaining in one’s cell is itself a great spiritual discipline! To be a hermit is no small thing. And rightly, one might ask: how does a hermit save the world? This is a mysterious equation—one that Carmel resolved in the lives and teaching of Teresa and Thérèse. Thérèse is the patroness of the missions. How can someone enclosed within four walls save the world? What a mystery! And yet the Church is also this mystery. Evangelisation is also this!
To a nun who wanted to write a letter, Thérèse replied: “It is not by writing letters that we save the world, it is by prayer and sacrifices.” Of course, this was just the beginning of her teaching. She would go on to reach astonishing spiritual heights in Manuscript C, where she explains her way of prayer—fiery prayer—and reveals the Archimedean secret, the science of the saints, how they lifted the world.
I hope this helps explain how one can respond to the apparent lack of engagement within the Church when it comes to deep spiritual formation. In fact, it is God who shows us that He is truly King in His Kingdom—and that no one enters this deeper level of spiritual life unless personally invited. Thus, we learn that we are not in control of spiritual formation. We do not manage it. It is God who invites personally, and we are here to serve those He sends. It is not managed by human initiative; it is directed personally by God, and more precisely by Our Lady.
In conclusion, this deeper aspect of evangelisation is not under our control or will. God alone governs deep evangelisation. The first stages of catechesis are also under God’s grace, but to some extent we may still feel we have a part to play. I hope you can perceive the nuance.
A Sacred Crossing: The Firewall of Grace
In the journey of spiritual formation, there comes a mysterious moment—rare, hidden, and sovereign—when the soul is drawn into a deeper intimacy with God. This moment is not the fruit of human effort alone, nor can it be scheduled, managed, or controlled. It is, rather, a sacred crossing, a threshold that only God can open.
One might liken it to a kind of firewall: a spiritual boundary that protects the sanctuary of divine intimacy, or Mary’s personal garden. Like the flaming sword that barred entry to Eden after the Fall (Genesis 3:24), or the burning bush that Moses dared not approach without removing his sandals (Exodus 3:5), this firewall guards a holy place—the domain of God. It cannot be crossed by desire alone, no matter how sincere. It is a passage that belongs entirely to grace. “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last…” (John 15:16) This beautifully echoes the point, emphasising that it is not man who initiates or wills, but God who acts in mercy—and He is the one who calls us, not vice versa.
This sacred transition is well described by St Teresa of Avila in her Interior Castle, especially the movement from the third to the fourth mansions. Up to the third, the soul progresses by prayer, effort, and virtue. But to enter the fourth is to be drawn by God into deeper prayer, where He begins to act more directly. She writes: “Here the Lord begins to take over the garden and to do the gardening himself.” (Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions, ch. 1) “I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down… I will seek the lost, bring back the strayed, bind up the broken, and strengthen the weak… I will feed them in justice.” (Ez 34:14-16)
It is no longer the soul that takes initiative. The soul may long for union, work tirelessly to prepare the ground, and pray fervently. But the actual transition—this inner spiritual calling—is not ours to choose. It is God’s sovereign act. Of course, it goes without saying that if God takes the initiative, the soul needs to respond and adapt to his new way of acting. The soul doesn’t remain passive! (this is very important too)
As we said above, this truth echoes in the writings of St Paul, who proclaims: “So then it is not of him who wills, nor of him who runs, but of God who shows mercy.” (Romans 9:16)
There is something both humbling and liberating in this. It teaches us that we are not the masters of spiritual formation. We may teach, guide, prepare the soil—but we cannot produce the fruit of divine union. This firewall of grace ensures that no one enters unless drawn. As Jesus himself says: “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him.” (John 6:44)
This is not to discourage effort or dismiss formation; quite the opposite. The preparation—often long and slow—is essential. But the decisive moment of transformation belongs to God. It cannot be faked, forced, or manufactured. In the School of Mary, this has become a lived truth. Time and again, efforts to invite and gather people for deeper formation bear fruit only when God moves hearts. We have learnt that it is not advertising or planning that draws souls, but an inner prompting, a grace no one controls.
So yes, one can rightly speak of a firewall—a line that cannot be crossed by human will, but only by divine invitation. It marks the sacred crossing into the deeper Evangelisation that is not under our control, but entrusted wholly to God and Our Lady. This is where the deepest spiritual formation begins: not by our will, but by God who has mercy.