The revelation of Cesar Chavez’s transgressions and abuses has triggered a sadly familiar cycle of shock, outrage, disillusionment and grief among those who looked to him as an exemplar and spiritual authority. His disturbing story highlights the danger of idealizing fallible human beings, while also underscoring a wider, deeper crisis that is impacting the realms of politics, church and culture. Men who lack spiritual maturity have yielded—and will continue to yield—to a Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde split between heroic persona and dark shadow. They serve as negative examples, illustrating the indispensability of tending to inner spiritual work and what psychologists call “shadow integration.”
The following reflections are not intended to provide an explanation for or analysis of why these wounded but powerful men behaved as they did. Rather, I hope to offer perspectives on the necessary soul work that serves to deepen our spiritual maturity.
The ‘bag’ we all carry
The concept of “shadow” was developed by the Swiss psychiatrist C. G. Jung, but is known by other names as well. Jesus called it the “plank in your own eye” (Mt 7:3). The shadow does not represent moral failure; it is part of the human condition—those aspects, traits and emotions we would rather not acknowledge or share but are a part of our inner landscape. The poet Robert Bly called the shadow his “bag”:
When we were one or two years old, we had what we might visualize as a 360-degree personality. Energy radiated out from all parts of our body and all parts of our psyche…But one day we noticed that our parents didn’t like certain parts…they said things like: “Can’t you be still?” Or “It isn’t nice to try to kill your brother.” Behind us we have an invisible bag, and the part of us our parents don’t like, we, to keep our parent’s love, put it in the bag. By the time we go to school our bag is quite large. Then our teachers have their say: “Good children don’t get angry over such little things.” So, we take our anger and put it in the bag. By the time my brother and I were twelve…we were known as “the nice Bly boys.” Our bags were already a mile long.
Repressing and ignoring the “bag,” however, does not eradicate these aspects of the human experience. Rather, the shadow energy grows autonomously in the “bag,” split off in the unconscious, waiting to be either welcomed home or to exact revenge.
A further complicating paradox is that the brighter the sun, the darker and longer the shadow’s reach. To associate oneself with high ideals and moral principles, embodied in institutions like church and nation, is to be yoked to a heavy shadow. The psychologist and author James Hollis suggests:
Too much morality strengthens evil in the inner world, and too little morality promotes dissociation between good and evil. The shabby comportment of contemporary moral vigilantes embodies the former imbalance, and the currency of unconscious acting out in personal and public life embodies the latter.
Perhaps this is why sexual misconduct by prominent leaders, especially those we idealize as moral exemplars, seems to be depressingly predictable. Those who take on moral, political or spiritual authority tread on precarious ground, and they are obligated to do so with consciousness of the dangers and potential pitfalls lurking on that terrain.
Sexuality in the shadows
Sexuality holds a prominent place in the underworld of the psyche. Religion has a shameful history of banishing sexuality to the shadowlands, while many secular cultures relegate it to street talk characterized by degrading, homophobic or misogynistic vocabulary. The behavior of Cesar Chavez and others is emblematic of unintegrated, untended shadow sexuality bleeding out, leaving wounded, broken souls in its path.
My experience as both a spiritual director and seeker suggests that the journey toward spiritual maturity also requires integration of the parts of sexuality within the psyche that do not cleanly align with our gender. Every woman has a masculine side and every man a feminine side—and they must be reconciled to the self. Jung labeled these the animus and anima. In men, for example, anima appears in dreams as images of women variably dramatized as mother, wisdom teacher, seductress or companion. When integrated, these complexes bring balance and nurture wholeness, but only after their projection is withdrawn.
Men inevitably project their anima onto women. When unconscious of this projection, however, they will mistake the idealized, “pure,” vital, external woman for the one who dwells in the depths of the unconscious. The greater the projection, the more darkness evolves and strengthens, magnifying the capacity for real harm and evil.
Could this be what we see happening when middle-aged men conduct affairs with much younger women? Jung noted that every alcohol addiction represents a low-level search for one’s soul, a thirst for more soulful living. Similarly, some men will project the quest for soul onto an external woman. They see in her what they want to possess; what occurs, however, is objectification.
Almost all of us experience romantic and sexual attraction toward others. When this is directed toward a younger adult, however, the spiritually discerning person might ask: “Why do I feel so much energy around this person? What’s really going on within me? What part of me is making itself known?” Such moments can become an opportunity for growth in self-knowledge, shadow integration and befriending powerful complexes in the unconscious. When we bring these energies to consciousness, we are more free to choose how to respond when we feel them stirred, rather than impulsively act out.
Steps on the shadow journey
The process of integrating shadow and other unconscious content is a spiritual task that evolves intentionally, step-by-step and in cooperation with God’s grace. Working with a trusted, trained, experienced spiritual director who grasps these psychological dynamics is recommended, for the journey into shadow is harrowing and “white-knuckling” will not work by itself. We are confronting our instinctive, feral nature—what we most despise about ourselves yet are called to embrace.
The story of St. Francis and the wolf serves as a helpful symbol to guide us in this soul work. The wolf was a killer, terrorizing the people of Gubbio. The collective, gut response screamed, “kill the beast!” But Francis chose to relate to the creature, bless and welcome it. Acknowledged and tamed, welcomed in from the shadowlands, it attacked no more.
A first step in this sacred work is connecting with the stories of those who intentionally undertook the journey of shadow integration, men like Pierre Teilhard de Chardin and Thomas Merton, who wrestled with a romantic relationship in his later years. Each struggled to develop self-knowledge, humility of spirit and authentic friendships—and suffered the consequences of consciousness. They endured the reality of their lives and lived with integrity. They humbly accepted their humanity, recognizing that a spirituality that is not sufficiently incarnational breeds capacity for darkness.
Next, we examine our projections. We hold in our psyche a deep but unconscious memory of what has been repressed. Like a magnet, we are drawn to that quality in others. The amount of anger, disgust, avoidance and violence we expend attacking it is commensurate with the energy expended in the original act of repression. When we find ourselves triggered all out of proportion to a person, we know we have hit paydirt—we’re reacting to a projection from our own shadow. A spiritually aware response is curiosity, checking in with oneself, noting what it is about this person that so irrationally irritates or attracts me. We dialogue with this energy and petition the Spirit for clarity. We ask: “Where in the depth of my shadow does this trait conceal itself, waiting to be invited home?”
Bringing shadow to consciousness is also accomplished by asking trusted others for feedback. We might ask colleagues, “What are my blind spots?” Some additional soulful questions to ask ourselves include: What do I notice about the nature of the conflicts in which I am embroiled? What about patterns of relationships—are there recurrent issues? What annoys me about others? Where do I sabotage myself? What feels stuck in my life, never seeming to move? Under what circumstances do I lose energy or shut down? When does my body feel anxious? When do I feel my fight or flight response activated?
As a further step, working with dreams is also invaluable. Scripture portrays dreams as God’s divine assistance, guiding the dreamers to truth. Freud aptly called dreams the “royal road to the unconscious.” In our sleep, the ego is stilled and the soul unfiltered. The Dream Maker will not collude with our illusions and ego desires; dreams simply tell the truth. The shadow tends to dress up as a figure of the same gender as the dreamer, or costumes itself in the repugnant symbolism of rats, monsters, demons or characters that trigger feelings of terror or disgust.
Similarly, anima/animus presents in dreams as the opposite gender. My own experience with anima integration has unfolded partly through dreamwork. A female figure repeatedly appeared in a series of dreams over several years. Each dream was marked by an increasing level of intimacy and attraction. First, she drove by in a carriage with no horse, simply looking at me. Then she sat next to me, affixing with an intense gaze through dark eyes. In the next dream we were embracing. Later, she appeared dressed in a wedding gown. Then her manifestation was in a nun’s habit (I called her the mystical nun!). Working with my spiritual director and a mentor skilled in Jungian dreamwork, I recognized these dreams as a call to befriend my feminine side.
Tending as healing the self and world
The reasons why men like Cesar Chavez transgress boundaries and sexually abuse innocent, trusting people remains complex; yet neglected shadow energies, unintegrated anima and a lack of self-knowledge undoubtedly are a part of the chemistry. The consequences of this arrested spiritual development among powerful men are real and the stakes are high, for this problem lies at the root of not only sexual abuse but many issues we face—warmongering, addiction, misogyny and ecological crisis among others.
The ancient Greeks sagely taught in their inscription on the Temple of Apollo, “Know Thyself,” but as Jung warned, the most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely. Nonetheless, it stands as an unavoidable, indispensable task for all, especially those who assume leadership, whether in the spiritual, moral, political or cultural realms or within our own lives and families.
Tending to this soul work allows each of us to make a small contribution to the healing and whole-making of the collective, for the more shadow is integrated, the less it will be projected and acted out. The healing that comes from tending to our inner spiritual work is not for each of us alone, but serves all creation. And we do not do it alone—the Spirit stands ready to assist us in evolving toward greater consciousness, toward deeper humanity, toward more authentically living in the image and likeness of God. When we bring our own wolves in from the shadowlands, we are further empowered to fulfill our vocation to be co-creators with God, and to build a world that is more conscious, more compassionate and more just.
Politics
Faith
Culture
Vatican
Scripture
Podcasts