Tags
Ad majorem Dei gloriam, daily prayer, God's will, grace, jesuits, love one another, reflection, retreat, St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Society of Jesus, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, The Spiritual Exercises
When I was in elementary school at Our Lady Help of Christians parish, it was the custom on our tests (and probably other written work) to place a small cross at the top of the page and underneath to print JMJ (Jesus, Mary, Joseph). I don’t remember being instructed each time to do what was most likely supposed to become a habit of dedicating our work to the Holy Family but I suspect for many of us it was either a desperate prayer for help or a desire to be seen as pious. Later on, as we grew into the upper grades and got more sophisticated, the letters changed to AMDG (Ad majorem Dei gloriam = for the greater glory of God). Knowing the meaning in English was easier than remembering the Latin words, at least until we got to high school. It wasn’t until much later that I learned how famous that phrase was.
Today is the feast of St. Ignatius of Loyola, founder of The Society of Jesus, commonly known as the Jesuits. The life story of Ignatius and his “society” is a great read which I will not repeat here (see “saint of the day” from www.franciscanmedia.com for the concise version) but it is clear that the influence of this man who lived from 1491 to 1556 – and died on this day – is greater today than in his lifespan because of his work that has come to be known as The Spiritual Exercises. Originally written for the Jesuits themselves, in our time the Exercises have been incorporated into the lives of people – religious and lay – throughout the world who are seeking spiritual growth. Based on the gospels and written as a four-week retreat, it is a rigorous daily commitment to prayer and reflection that can set one on a course for life. For those who cannot spend an entire month in retreat, there is “the nineteenth annotation” process, wherein each “day” becomes a week spread over 30 weeks. (much information on line).
The goal of everything for Ignatius was doing the will of God, thus the motto: Ad majorem Dei gloriam. This desire is captured in a simple, sincere prayer attributed to him that I believe may be the most profound gift we can offer to God each day.
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will – all I have and call my own. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.
The weekend just ended brought both old friends and new faces to our tiny “island of grace” (the way I see our small retreat center these days). The privilege of preparing meals for them allowed me observation time of their interactions with one another and the alternation of their movements to and from the conference room – so often peppered with “thank you” or smiles of appreciation for every little thing. I cannot help feeling judgments about people melt from me as I observe the gifts that diversity brings to a retreat where everyone is desirous of spiritual growth. The ways that people dress or speak or choose their food are all overshadowed by the blinding light of their intention toward unity with the Divine (however they perceive the One I call God).
When I think of the courage necessary to the first Christians as they shared their beliefs in Jesus and found resistance that led to beatings and vilification, I’m honored to have an opportunity to do the same with radically different outcomes. I am certainly not comparing myself to St. Paul and his gift of preaching! The only similarity is that I will leave in a few hours for a destination in Pennsylvania, close to 225 miles away. Unlike in Paul’s day, the trip will take me about four hours and the travel conditions will simply necessitate paying attention while I drive.
After all my preparation and the very meaningful retreat day yesterday for a wonderful group of welcoming parishioners, I have little to say today. I yield to St. Francis of Assisi for a poem that seems a perfect postscript for me and a meaningful thought for all of us.
Waking up very early (5:20am) has its benefits as I am experiencing today. I need to be in my car by 7:30, in order to be able to breathe when I arrive at the retreat venue where I will share the day with probably about 50 people. During the event we will share reflections on three questions from the gospel of Mark:
Late yesterday I arrived home from my 5-day retreat at Pendle Hill, near Philadelphia, a gloriously peaceful place saturated with the beauty of nature and the prayer of Quakers since 1930. The theme developed over the days for the 60 participants – many Quakers and those others of us from several different Christian traditions – was Our Life Is Love. I went to the retreat because it was being led by Cynthia Bourgeault who has for over a decade been a bright light on my spiritual path. Cynthia was being assisted (I thought) by two women: a composer of chant-songs, Paulette Meier, and a teacher of the Quaker tradition, Marcelle Martin. Contrary to my impression from the retreat flyer, these three women presented a seamless experience of the beauty and depth of Quakerism that can also be found at the heart of mainstream Christianity. It was a priceless gift of camaraderie, shared prayer and hospitality that I will treasure going forward.
A little over a month ago, when I was not sure of my ability to do this morning writing practice because I was leaving on vacation, I promised to leave a series of quotes for our tech wizard, Mary Pat, to post day by day. I was so satisfied with myself for having completed that task but as I was driving the next morning, I realized that the quotes were still sitting in my computer as I had not sent them to her! Humility is a great virtue and I have learned a lot about it along the way. The best thing about that virtue, I think, is the ability to admit both the great things about oneself and the failures or missteps without agonizing over either. In that spirit, I am going to try again to complete what I didn’t on my first try.
After eight days of virtually no speaking, I am clear about the difficulty of stopping inner chatter – at least for me. I realized somewhere during the past eight days how many thoughts flow through my head (several often at the same time) without my consciousness recognizing each or any of them. I began to wonder when I began to multi-task so much that the practice invaded my inner state as well as my outer daily life. One good place to start a reversal was at meals. Because we did not talk at meals, we just ate. I came to a renewed awareness of the awkwardness of spearing raw carrots or grape tomatoes in a salad as well as the fact that I often switch hands for guiding a spoonful of soup to my mouth. (Being very left-handed, I was taught that it was only proper to eat with one’s right hand, so as a child it was necessarily a conscious practice to do so. Now I know that even very early unconscious habits die hard.)
Late yesterday after a glorious five-hour drive through the beauty of Upstate New York and then the Green Mountains of Vermont I arrived at Hallelujah Farm, a beautiful, sacred place in Chesterfield, New Hampshire, just over the border from Brattleboro, Vermont. I have come here for a week of retreat. This time with a small group of people is to be totally silent, filled with centering prayer, sacred movement, the conscious work of preparing silent meals and cleaning up after ourselves, other small household tasks that provide us with opportunities to pay attention to what we’re doing when we’re doing it…as well as our own private time to pray and reflect. I have the privilege of rising early to provide coffee for my companions. Knowing how important that is for myself, I am happy to provide it for those who share this experience with me.
