Becky Eldredge's Blog, page 12

Ignatian Prayers for the New Year: Images of God in Prayer

One of my favorite images of God is one that I pray each morning with the Benedictus, “In the tender compassion of our God, the dawn from on high shall break upon us, to shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.”  How do we explain or deal with the mysterious and unexplainable? I believe we do it with images that portray the character of the thing we are trying to understand or relate to.

I want to share with you a variety of images of God that have helped me at different times in my life, especially during times of decision making. They have been simple moments, like the little chipmunk appearing on the head of my praying monk statue on the patio as I was reflecting on seeing God in the world around me. He sat there for the longest time, enjoying the sun while I enjoyed his presence. God was sitting with me in that moment. We just sat together, just present to each other.

It can be an inner knowing of a voice that the Spirit gives when listening with the ear of my heart. After I retired this summer I was excited about all the projects I could get done and what might be in store for me. I saw an Instagram post by Becky regarding the Director of Ministry Operations. I thought, “too bad a job like that didn’t show up when I was looking”. Later in the week I saw the post again, the voice was louder, “put your name in for this job”, the knowing more sure. I sat down immediately, updated my corporate resume and sent an honest letter explaining why the team should consider someone that just retired for the position.  During the process of waiting and discerning whether I wanted the job, (did I really want to go back to work?) I used an image, during meditation, from Becky’s The Inner Chapel book regarding her children at the beach with various levels of confidence and trust about swimming in the water. I thought of myself, standing deep in the water, waves up around my shoulders and neck, feet safely planted on the sand below. I felt Jesus in front of me, deeper in the water, waving a finger at me, saying “It’s time”, asking me to come deeper, and trust moving out into the deep water without the security of the sand below. I knew in that moment that if offered the position to join Becky’s team, that I should say “yes” with confidence. 

Images and conversations of and with God also come in a physical building, my parish church.  I have spent most of my 65 years worshiping there. The building has surrounded and rejoiced with me during times of joy and celebration, it has embraced and comforted me during times of sorrow. The building itself acts as an image of God protecting me from the world outside and providing a quiet place for conversation.  

We have the most interesting crucifix in our church, the only one I have ever seen with Jesus still alive on the cross, with his loving arms outstretched, staring down upon us.  Many years ago, during a time of decision making regarding the business I owned, I went to the church to pray. I was suffering over the decision to keep the business open or wondering whether it was time to close.  After a few minutes of quieting myself down, looking up at that crucifix, I pleaded for an answer. I “heard” my answer. It was, “Look at me here. Yes, it was hard, but it was just a few hours of suffering on a Good Friday, after this comes Easter. It all changes. Don’t worry.” I knew everything would turn out for the best, and in time, it did.

We use images in the Church weekly when we hear God tell us to “stand at the door and knock” or when Jesus tells us he is the Good Shepherd. We see Wisdom as Sophia, a beautiful woman. We pray to experience the fullness of the wedding banquet with Christ as the bridegroom and the Church as the bride. Our biblical heritage and teaching is rich with images. With confidence we can ask for our own images, images that we personally relate to. If you are having a difficult time centering in prayer, consider using an image from your life experience as a parent or friend. Imagine yourself as a child reaching out in love to a parent for comfort or reassurance. Ask for the grace to experience God in images in the world around you.

Go Deeper:

The Benedictus, Canticle of Zechariah, is part of the Liturgy of the Hours Morning Prayer. You can read it here.Deena is a Benedictine Oblate of St Mary Monastery in Rock Island, IL. To learn more about oblate life, you may want to read:Atchison Blue by Judith ValenteThe Cloister Walk by Kathleen NorrisThe Monastic Heart by Sr Joan Chittister

Photo by Francesco Alberti on unsplash.com 

 

Advent: A Reflection on Luke 1:39-45

When I contemplated this familiar passage about Mary and Elizabeth to write this post, I found myself lingering on the very first line: “Mary set out and traveled to the hill country in haste…” 

To be honest, it was a part of the passage I had never stopped to consider before. In fact, I’m not even sure that I noticed the one line describing the journey before. Instead, I usually jumped straight to the part where Mary and Elizabeth greet each other. 

This time, however, I felt compelled to stop after the first line and consider what Mary must have been feeling along the journey to see Elizabeth. Only one line captured a journey of almost eighty two miles to see her cousin. Eighty two miles traveled at best on donkey, at worst on foot. Even if Mary traveled “in haste”, it would take her days to get there. That is a lot of time to think. That is a lot of time to wonder about this life growing inside of her and the promises she had just made to God and the angel. It is a fair amount of time to walk, ride, or travel for a newly pregnant woman, too. 

So, what would that journey have looked like? What would Mary have felt, thought, and considered along on the road? 

I discovered over time that pregnancy, especially the first few weeks, looks and feels different for everyone who has experienced it. Some women love being pregnant. Some express feeling, from the very moment of conception, life growing within them. They are confident, hopeful, excited, and filled with joy. Perhaps they have been waiting for this moment, and feel instantly it is the answer to their prayers. Others have more complicated feelings around pregnancy, especially in those first few weeks. Maybe they carry the weight of prior miscarriages or pregnancy loss or infertility. Maybe they are concerned about the possibility of genetic differences or disabilities that could occur and what that will mean for their child and for them. Maybe the pregnancy was unexpected, and for a myriad of reasons, the stress of what is happening weighs on them. It’s different for every situation. 

As I imagined Mary traveling along the road for over eighty two miles, I couldn’t help but wonder what those first few weeks of pregnancy looked and felt like to her. In my mind, she drifted between joy and stress, excitement and worry, hope and fear. I wondered if the first part of Mary’s journey might have focused on the question of: “Am I really pregnant?”

At least, that was how the first few weeks of both my  pregnancies felt for me. 

I wondered that a lot early on myself. When I took a test at five weeks along and read the news, I was excited. But that initial excitement was replaced by a lot of uncertainty. Five weeks was too early to go for any tests, too early to hear a heartbeat, too early to have any internal confirmation that what I read on the test was true. My confirmation arrived at 7 weeks when the intense nausea set in. 

As I continued to ponder the scripture, I imagined the moment when nausea might have set in for Mary. Maybe she was twenty or thirty miles into the journey. Maybe the road started to feel a little more bumpy than usual. Maybe she had to ask her guide (if she had one) to pull the donkey over so she could rest and regain her equilibrium. 

I considered if this could have been the moment she felt the internal confirmation of the angel’s news. Maybe, for her like for me, it was a moment of both sickness and joy. 

But did this confirmation and joy she might have felt turn into feelings of fear as she set back on her journey? 

Mary was young. She was about to be married, but she was not yet. She had never planned to be pregnant before her wedding. She had not even talked to Joseph yet. I imagined that along this road, with the angel long departed from her and the baby growing inside of her, she wondered, like many pregnant women do in those early weeks today, how she was going to handle it all.

I remembered the fear rushing over me as I sat at nine weeks along in the doctor’s office and saw the two distinct heartbeats on the screen. We had a two year old who was not yet talking and already had some delayed milestones. I thought we could handle a second child, sure… but I never anticipated two at once. It was a weird dichotomy – the fear and joy wrestling in my heart as I imagined the two blobs wrestling inside of me.

Eighty two miles on a donkey or on foot is a long journey. Throughout it I imagined that Mary went through a myriad of emotions until the final moment when she saw Elizabeth, heard her words, and felt the comfort of her embrace. 

Spending time contemplating the journey of Mary to Elizabeth helped me connect a little more to the human Mary. It helped me reflect on the beauty AND the struggle in this epic journey of hers. Maybe it can do the same for you as well. 

As we move through the final days of Advent ask yourself: 

Where has there been beauty and struggle in your own story? How can Mary’s journey give you comfort and courage along the way?Who are those you turn to when life takes an unexpected turn?

Journeying with Mary along the road gave me faith that Mary is journeying along the road with me as well. Contemplating the eighty two miles before she met Elizabeth reminds me that God is not only present to us at the destination but in every twist and turn along the way.

Go Deeper:

Using the prayer method of Lectio Divina , consider praying with Luke 1:39-45 from the fourth Sunday of Advent, or any other readings from Sunday.Pray an guided audio Lectio Divina of Luke 1:39-45. Check out our other praying with scripture resources here. 

Photo by KaLisa Veer on unsplash.com 

 

Advent: A Reflection on Philippians 4:4-7

Brothers and sisters:
Rejoice in the Lord always.
I shall say it again: Rejoice!
Your kindness should be known to all.
The Lord is near.
Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, 
by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, 
make your requests known to God.
Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding 
will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:4-7

 

It feels like forever since I attended a live music concert! Last week, I stepped into a brightly lit church to enjoy an evening holiday concert for the first time in nearly 2 years. I’d forgotten that sensation of orchestra music reverberating off the marble walls and echoing across the high ceiling. I sat in this sacred space while a chamber choir, sans microphones, filled the rafters with acapella voices. The chamber set was juxtaposed with a Mexican folk ensemble, whose toe-tapping percussion made for an imaginary street festival. In the final encore, the two choirs joined together for a recognizable Spanish Christmas tune. Suddenly, half the church rose to their feet, huge smiles beaming behind their masks, and everyone clapping along to the rhythm. 

Joy! It was pure joy!! Moments of joy are undeniable, and they often take us by surprise. 

This third week of Advent we celebrate Gaudete Sunday, and in the second reading we hear, “Rejoice in the Lord always. I shall say it again: rejoice!”  In this season of hopeful anticipation, as we await the One who desires to dwell among us, we are invited to delight in the ways God’s presence has already manifested itself in our lives.  

Where are you this Advent season? Are you ready for joy to take you by surprise? 

There are 3 things I know about joy:

1. Joy happens in the unexpected moments. We can’t plan for joy to spontaneously happen, nor can we force joy to arrive on our doorstep like an Amazon package. Joy is God’s gift to us. In the midst of a busy holiday season, still emerging from the impacts of the pandemic, we might be a bit reluctant about expecting joy to arrive. Joy does not wait for the perfect day or the ideal moment. Maybe you’re already anticipating that Christmas will be hard this year. Tis the season for missing someone special, or perhaps you’re finding that the holidays are not the same as they used to be. Ask God for the grace to experience joy. Make your request known to God, and then allow God to fill your heart with delight – even just for a moment! 

2. Comparison will steal your joy. I remember my discontent during Christmas 2020, when so many of our holiday traditions were put on hold. I said to my spiritual director, “Christmas will never be the same!” It’s true. Christmas 2020 was not the same as any other year, and yet, it had its own moments of magic and mystery. I made memories and new traditions with my “adopted family” that may never have happened without the interruption of COVID. 

Comparison is the thief of contentment. The minute you begin comparing your life with someone else’s – your vocational path, your material possessions, your job satisfaction, your talents – then joy starts slipping away. In today’s second reading we hear, “The Lord is near!” Our savior, Emmanuel, God who is our source of joy, is already in our midst. God delights in you, exactly where you are, right now! 

3. Joy moves us to action. Joy expands our hearts, our imaginations, and our love for one another. Like a church that suddenly rises to its feet to stomp with the beat of the music, joy propels us to take action. Where are you called to be that source of joy for someone else this year? How can your experience of joy provide the inspiration for helping those in need? Joy causes us to forget about ourselves for a while, to bask in God’s great love, and then return that love by sharing our joy with others. There are so many ways to use our joy during the holiday season – consider a secret Santa gift, some extra time in silent prayer, a donation to your favorite charity, or the gift of hope to families in need around the world.  

Joy arrives when we least expect it. It may not come precisely at midnight on December 25th. But God came into the world – with all its wonderment, messiness, mourning, and celebration – to be the cause of our joy! May you feel it reverberating in your heart, rise to your feet, and say again, “Rejoice!”

Go Deeper:

Using the prayer method of Lectio Divina , consider praying with Philippians 4:4-7 from the third Sunday of Advent, or any other readings from Sunday.Pray an guided audio Lectio Divina of Philippians 4:4-7. Check out our other praying with scripture resources here. 

Photo by KaLisa Veer on unsplash.com 

 

Advent: A Reflection on Psalm 126

I am attracted to the psalms. Maybe this is because one way God called me to deepen my life of faith was through music. I recall a preaching course during graduate studies when the instructor was surprised (in a good way) that I chose the psalm as the focal point of my homily. Apparently that doesn’t happen very often, however, I love that the psalms offer us a very human way of praying as we attempt to make sense of life’s complexities through raw, honest dialogue with God. Anger, frustration, sorrow, and desire for vengeance are interwoven with expressions of delight, serenity, happiness, joy, and gratitude to our loving Creator who at times feels very close, and at other times seems very, very far away.

Psalm 126 was written for a people looking back on a time of exile exclaiming, “The Lord has done great things for us; we are filled with joy.” (Ps 126:3). This year I find myself clinging to the refrain in anticipation of a promise yet to be fulfilled, more aligned with  Pamela Greenberg’s translation: “God will act with wonder toward us; the thought fills us with joy.”  

Psalm 126 (Greenberg trans.)

A SONG OF UPLIFT.

When the Redeemer returns the exiles to Zion

we will have been like dreamers.

Then our mouths will overflow with laughter,

our tongues with cries of joy.

Then it will be said among the nations:

“God has acted with grandeur

on behalf of these people.”

God will act with wonder toward us;

the thought fills us with joy.

The Holy One has glorified us by name—

we will be as though having been

in the divine presence throughout.

Return us, God, from our exile

like sudden streambeds in the Negev.

Those who plant seeds with tears of sorrow

will gather the harvest with songs of joy.

The one who walks even while weeping,

lifting the seed as he goes,

will return with gladness,

carrying his sheaves of corn.

Joy is feeling far away as I grieve my mother’s death. This past year, alternating between Chicago and the Western Slope of Colorado about every 4-6 weeks, I was repeatedly jolted as the end stages of Posterior Cortical Atrophy syndrome (a rare form of dementia) progressed.  While diagnosing PCA took a long time, her rapid decline was disorienting.

Cloudbursts of tears alternate with gales of laughter as we walk through her belongings and papers, lifting seeds of memories to plant in our hearts along the way.  Like the flicker of light that grows around the advent wreath this season, those seeds of love hint at a promised harvest of abundant joy to come, in this life and the next.

As we make our way toward the feast of the incarnation, whether this is a season of sorrow or celebration (or both), consider taking time in prayer to wonder about the ways you “have been in the divine presence throughout.” Allow the psalm from the daily readings to spark a memory, or identify strong emotions during an Examen to guide your reflection. Years ago I started jotting down psalm topics on a blank page at the front of a book of psalms to reference when I’m struggling to find my own words, similar to the index included at the back of many hymnals. You might also find writing your own psalm to be a fruitful way to voice your heartfelt response to Emmanuel, God-With-Us, always.

Go Deeper:

Using the prayer method of Lectio Divina , consider praying with this Psalm from the second Sunday of Advent, or any other readings from Sunday.Pray an guided audio Lectio Divina of Psalme 126:1-6. Check out our other praying with scripture resources here. Consider exploring other translations and paraphrases of the Psalms:Greenburg, Pamela; The Complete Psalms: The Book of Prayer Songs in a New Translation, writes in her introduction:“The psalms have touched people because they reflect the lived experience of religion, not neat theological doctrine.  … Their diversity gives testimony to the life of a person reaching with full heart and intellect toward God, a person yearning for revelation amidst the spectrum of circumstances that life presents.  And within that search appears everything from jubilation to hopelessness to the various emotions in between.”Merrill, Nan; Psalms for Praying:  An Invitation to Wholeness are beautifully rendered paraphrases of the psalms that continue to provide consolation and challenge in my prayer.Peterson, Eugene; The Message;  In his commentary on the Book of Psalms, Peterson notes:“Most Christians for most of the Christian centuries have learned to pray by praying the Psalms.  The Hebrews, with several centuries of a head start on us in matters of prayer and worship, provided us with the prayer book that gives us a language adequate for responding to the God who speaks to us. … only as we develop raw honesty and detailed thoroughness in our praying do we become whole, truly human in Jesus Christ, who also prayed the Psalms.”And if struggling with what to do with righteous anger at injustice in our world, consider the article, Bring Back the Imprecatory Psalms, Troutner, T., Church Life Journal, August 11, 2021)

“Canonical scripture (and until the post-conciliar reforms, the Liturgy of the Hours) includes the desperate prayers known as “imprecatory psalms,” those cries to God for judgment against the wicked, who seem to earthly eyes to prosper free of consequences. … If we can no longer pray for the manifestation of God’s wrath and justice against evil, it is because we have lost the sense that divine judgment is good news. God does not leave us to face the mess we have made of the world; the Lord intervenes in history to frustrate the plans of the wicked and set right what we have made wrong. This judgment can be painful for us, since this evil is deeply entrenched within our hearts. But God’s judgment, as Origen believed, is always aimed at restoration.”

Photo by KaLisa Veer on unsplash.com 

 

Advent: A Reflection on Jeremiah 33:14-16

The days are coming—oracle of the  Lord —when I will fulfill the promise I made to the house of Israel and the house of Judah. 

In those days, at that time, I will make a just shoot spring up for David; he shall do what is right and just in the land. 

  In those days Judah shall be saved and Jerusalem shall dwell safely; this is the name they shall call her: “The  Lord  our justice.”   

(Jer 33:14-16)

Three small verses, yet they bring us into Advent with all the promise, longing, and assurance that this season is meant to give. Jeremiah is almost bursting with hope and anticipates the days of fulfillment as he proclaims these words! The days are coming…in those days and at that time… in those days…Three times he refers to the wonderful days that have been promised and are coming… just in case we should miss it!

This passage, probably written to the post-exilic community, reminded them, and us, that the promises that have been made will be fulfilled. New life will spring from what seems to be the barren stump of David’s line and there will be safety and justice for a people who have suffered through years of danger and all kinds of injustice. You can just imagine a bent over, yet deeply believing people straightening up and standing proud as Jeremiah proclaimed what the Lord had given him to say, as Jeremiah reminded them of who they were and how God would be faithful!

Is there a bent over, yet deeply believing part of you that needs to embrace these words and which begins to stand straight as you hear these promises?  A part of you that needs to remember who and whose you are? Our Advent days invite us to live into hope and certainty about our future! As you reflect on this passage you might ask yourself: what post-suffering or injured part of me needs to hear these words? Which part of the passage speaks to  that hurt inside of you? Stay with that for a while.  

What are the promises God has made to you, to all of us?  Will you let yourself really hear and believe that God will fulfill the promises God has made to you, even if the time has seemed long and the hurt has been deep?  Can you hear and believe–better yet can you even see that small green shoot trying to push through any hard “stumpiness” in you?  

Advent calls us to leave any hardness that may have formed around any part of our spirit to  look for and nourish the new life trying to break through. Ask for that grace! You start by acknowledging that God is still active in your life, then use your Advent eyes and heart to look for and nourish the signs of new life, however small they may be!

New life longs to burst forth in each one of us, if we will but tend to what God has already planted within… and this is the season for doing so.  We will find ourselves bathed in many more of God’s promises of new life and hope as these Advent days move on, but for today,in these words from Jeremiah, we are given some incredible promises:

God will help me stand erect in the spots of my life where I feel most bent over. What are they? Speak to the God who wants to free you…God will bring new life out of the very places I think are hopeless and hardened.Are there places where you have just given up on ever feeling ”okay” about? Speak to the one who can soothe you and speak truth to your soul…God will see that “right” is done so that I experience both justice and the ability to dwell in peace.Is there some hurt I carry that just does not seem fair?  Speak to the sinless one who conquered all the pain the world can throw at you.  Be honest, God wants to give you God’s peace…

Our Advent journey begins with hope and assurances – we would do well to look for all the “new” life that God is already bringing forth. And so, we begin.

See, I am doing something new!  Now, it springs forth, do you not perceive it?  In the wilderness God makes a way… (Is. 43:19)

 

Go Deeper:

Using the prayer method of Lectio Divina , consider praying with this Jeremiah passage from the first Sunday of Advent, or any other readings from Sunday.

Photo by KaLisa Veer on unsplash.com 

 

Living As Contemplative Leaders in Action: Danger Ahead: Praying for Humility

Let me have too deep a sense of humor ever to be proud.

Let me know my absurdity before I act absurdly.

Let me realize that when I am humble I am most human,

most truthful,

and most worthy of your serious consideration.

—Daniel A. Lord, SJ, in Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits

As contemplative leaders, we can find it difficult to admit when we are wrong or that we do not have the answers.  As a follower, I most appreciate leaders who have been willing to learn from their peers, the people they serve, and the world around them.  I feel disempowered and frustrated when a leader hands down a mandate that is uninformed or based on a lack of understanding of the situation. 

Another difficulty we often face as leaders is admitting when something that once thrived has ceased to serve its purpose…. That a beloved ministry has reached its conclusion. Or that something we once believed in and built, has passed to a new generation of leaders with their own ideas and vision.  A ministry or opportunity that seemed invaluable to us or our community is no longer a place where we thrive.  Admitting any of these feelings requires a great deal of humility, a willingness to name our own limitations while allowing God to reveal Godself more fully.  

As a recent college graduate, I worked with a team of Jesuits and lay ministers to help Jesuit colleges form Christian Life Community (CLC) programs on their campuses. CLC has a 500 year history in the Jesuit world, a 100-year history in the United States. Who was I, a 22-year-old theology grad student to make recommendations on how the program could best serve more people in the 21st century? Many older adult leaders could not hear my suggestions or could not move past “the way we have always done it.” 

Yet, the members of the National Formation Team listened to me with respect, encouraged my ideas, and shared them with other groups.  I recall deep conversations with elders in the Vietnamese-American community, who had themselves established young adult CLCs in their post-war diaspora.  I experienced similar collaboration with CLC and Ignatian leaders from a wide range of backgrounds. Although it was not always easy, I appreciated how many people allowed me and other young adult leaders to forge our own programs within the wider context of this lay movement. I recognize now the humility it took for each one of us to bring our experiences forward and listen for what we might learn from one another. 

In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius offers a meditation on Three Degrees of Humility, a deepening, humbling to God’s will. The first degree is simply being obedient to God’s will and desiring to follow God. In the second, a sense of freedom not to desire wealth or success over poverty and struggle. The third degree is to actually choose the struggle and pain that Christ himself experienced. The primary goal is not to suffer, but to be so near to Christ you feel all that he endured. Ignatius himself struggled with putting aside his ego and desire for honor and glory.  While it is possible to receive accolades and success in the service of God, our own accomplishments should not overshadow our desire to remain faithful to God. 

It can be easy to slip into the routine of crossing things off my list. I move from one task to the next, from one item on the calendar or strategic plan to the next. How often have I stopped to ask God: Where do you want to reveal yourself in this work today? Where can I make your love more known to those I encounter? Perhaps it is in the article I write, the social media content calendar I edit, or the data I compile for a grant report. 

God might also be revealing love, light, and hope through an opportunity not in my strategic plan. God may be stirring something within my own heart, and it may take a great deal of humility and faith to respond to that nudge.

 

Go Deeper:

Review all the qualities of a Contemplative Leader Pray with St. Ignatius and the Three Kinds of Humility  Reflect on the sentiment “I Am Not Worthy” Reflect on humility Join us for our Advent online prayer retreat: We Are Not Alone. It starts Nov 28 with a plan for daily contemplative prayer through Dec 26. Register today!

Photo by Micaela Parente on unsplash.com 

 

Living As Contemplative Leaders in Action: Humility

Let me have too deep a sense of humor ever to be proud.

Let me know my absurdity before I act absurdly.

Let me realize that when I am humble I am most human,

most truthful,

and most worthy of your serious consideration.

—Daniel A. Lord, SJ, in Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits

As contemplative leaders, we can find it difficult to admit when we are wrong or that we do not have the answers.  As a follower, I most appreciate leaders who have been willing to learn from their peers, the people they serve, and the world around them.  I feel disempowered and frustrated when a leader hands down a mandate that is uninformed or based on a lack of understanding of the situation. 

Another difficulty we often face as leaders is admitting when something that once thrived has ceased to serve its purpose…. That a beloved ministry has reached its conclusion. Or that something we once believed in and built, has passed to a new generation of leaders with their own ideas and vision.  A ministry or opportunity that seemed invaluable to us or our community is no longer a place where we thrive.  Admitting any of these feelings requires a great deal of humility, a willingness to name our own limitations while allowing God to reveal Godself more fully.  

As a recent college graduate, I worked with a team of Jesuits and lay ministers to help Jesuit colleges form Christian Life Community (CLC) programs on their campuses. CLC has a 500 year history in the Jesuit world, a 100-year history in the United States. Who was I, a 22-year-old theology grad student to make recommendations on how the program could best serve more people in the 21st century? Many older adult leaders could not hear my suggestions or could not move past “the way we have always done it.” 

Yet, the members of the National Formation Team listened to me with respect, encouraged my ideas, and shared them with other groups.  I recall deep conversations with elders in the Vietnamese-American community, who had themselves established young adult CLCs in their post-war diaspora.  I experienced similar collaboration with CLC and Ignatian leaders from a wide range of backgrounds. Although it was not always easy, I appreciated how many people allowed me and other young adult leaders to forge our own programs within the wider context of this lay movement. I recognize now the humility it took for each one of us to bring our experiences forward and listen for what we might learn from one another. 

In the Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius offers a meditation on Three Degrees of Humility, a deepening, humbling to God’s will. The first degree is simply being obedient to God’s will and desiring to follow God. In the second, a sense of freedom not to desire wealth or success over poverty and struggle. The third degree is to actually choose the struggle and pain that Christ himself experienced. The primary goal is not to suffer, but to be so near to Christ you feel all that he endured. Ignatius himself struggled with putting aside his ego and desire for honor and glory.  While it is possible to receive accolades and success in the service of God, our own accomplishments should not overshadow our desire to remain faithful to God. 

It can be easy to slip into the routine of crossing things off my list. I move from one task to the next, from one item on the calendar or strategic plan to the next. How often have I stopped to ask God: Where do you want to reveal yourself in this work today? Where can I make your love more known to those I encounter? Perhaps it is in the article I write, the social media content calendar I edit, or the data I compile for a grant report. 

God might also be revealing love, light, and hope through an opportunity not in my strategic plan. God may be stirring something within my own heart, and it may take a great deal of humility and faith to respond to that nudge.

 

Go Deeper:

Review all the qualities of a Contemplative Leader Pray with St. Ignatius and the Three Kinds of Humility  Reflect on the sentiment “I Am Not Worthy” Reflect on humility Join us for our Advent online prayer retreat: We Are Not Alone. It starts Nov 28 with a plan for daily contemplative prayer through Dec 26. Register today!

Photo by Micaela Parente on unsplash.com 

 

Living As Contemplative Leaders in Action: People For Others

Ignatian spirituality is known for its genius concerning self-awareness. Centuries before psychology emerged as a science, Ignatius understood that people needed to reflect on their experiences, needed to learn about their specific interior “movements,” needed to take note of what helped or hindered their spiritual development. Many people are drawn to Ignatian prayer such as the Examen because it helps them reflect and grow in self-awareness.

It’s important to remember, however, that every spiritual practice Ignatius did and helped others do was aimed at helping others. The handful of men who founded the Society of Jesus were passionate about cooperating with God’s work in the world—through every avenue possible, whether ministering to society’s poorest and weakest or becoming linguists, schoolteachers, and mapmakers. Their purpose was to see where God was at work and where God called them to be—and to show up and do the hard and complex work of loving others.

At the heart of Ignatian spirituality is the belief that we humans have purpose in the universe, and that purpose is to grow in faith, hope, and love and to help others do the same. The late writer and spiritual director Bill Barry, SJ spoke in terms of God’s project or family business: we are invited to join in, to participate in this majestic venture. This sojourn with Jesus of Nazareth happens to us as individuals but always develops in the context of community.

It makes sense, though, that we develop self-awareness as we love others because we can’t love very well when we are blind to our faults and weaknesses. One goal of our personal spiritual development is to become free—so free of bias, fear, anxiety, insecurity, ambition, and self-loathing that we can open our hearts to others and give to them abundantly. We can give ourselves to love when we have at least begun to be freed by the growing conviction that God loves us.

Also, we know from experience that working on our spiritual life is not effective in isolation. Although there are periods when each of us must dwell with God alone and be trained by solitude, love must always have its object—it must always be expressed to someone. At times we must learn to love ourselves, but even that requires that we first experience love from God directly or, most of the time, from another person.

“People for others” negates clinging to power or status. “People for others” pulls us out of self-obsession. “People for others” keeps us connected in healthy ways to the larger community. “People for others” can take almost as many forms as there are people. “People for others” continues through heartbreak and setback. “People for others” is not a motto but a guiding principle of the Christian life.

 

Go Deeper:

Read more about being people for others from Vinita here. Join us for our Advent online prayer retreat: We Are Not Alone. It starts Nov 28 with a plan for daily contemplative prayer through Dec 26. Register today!

Photo by Chang Duong on unsplash.com 

 

Living As Contemplative Leaders in Action: Holy Listening

I bolted upright in bed, my hand clutching my chest. It felt like my heart would beat right out of it. I took deep breaths trying to quiet the thump, thump, thump resounding in my ears. My heart felt so loud in the quiet, dark room. I touched the sheet, the headboard, the nightstand letting each connection pull me back into reality. “You are here. You are awake. You are okay. Just breathe,” I whispered into the dark. 

When I felt I could finally move, I stumbled into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I ran my tongue along my teeth checking that they were still firmly in place as I finally felt my body relaxing. “It was just a dream,” I said to myself. “It was just a dream.” 

I dreamt that I was standing in an incredibly dirty bathroom in the basement of a creepy house, the kind of horror movies. My feet were riveted to the floor as I stared into a mirror watching my teeth crumble to dust in my mouth. 

That kind of dream would make anyone’s heart race, wouldn’t it? 

Even now, over fifteen years later, I remember so clearly the feeling of my teeth crumbling in my mouth and my heart racing in my chest as I tried desperately to wake up. That particular night, I convinced myself it was just a dream, but over time I came to know it as one of the moments God was trying to break through my walls and get me to tune in. 

At the time of the dream, I was mixed up in a situation I needed to get out of. The only problem was, I didn’t know it. On the surface, I didn’t believe anything was really that wrong. I was in the midst of it, so my perspective was narrow. Sure, there were voices around me offering advice. There were voices around me asking questions and inviting me to take a harder look.  I convinced myself I had it all handled. 

I had so strongly convinced myself that I was stuck listening only to myself. I listened to the self that said, “You are being too dramatic, you know what you are doing.” The self that said, “You are too intelligent to have made a mistake;  they just don’t understand.” In retrospect, the self that said “There is no way out, is there?” was the loudest voice shouting it’s bad advice and drowning out everything else. 

When I chose to write about contemplative leaders being holy listeners, I thought this article would come easily. Afterall, I wrote many times about what I learned about listening from my oldest son who is deaf. I figured I could easily draw from that knowledge. But every time I sat down to write, the words would just not come. I struggled for weeks to figure out what to say. What do I really know about what it means to listen? In particular, what do I really know about what it means to listen to God and help others do the same? 

But then, this moment in my small apartment fifteen years ago came back to me, and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I kept feeling the “thump, thump, thump” of my chest. I kept remembering the crunchy feeling in my mouth of my teeth shattering. The night wouldn’t leave me alone as it’s intricate details reminded me that there was something really important about listening I had learned in that moment that needed to be shared. 

Over the years, starting with that night, I learned that God speaks to us in a myriad of ways. God never gives up on us even when our ears are not open. When God finds our ears closed to the Spirit, God begins to use our other senses. I believe that God is present in the “thump, thump, thump” of our hearts. God is there in the tingling of our arms that happens when we sense that something is not quite right. God is there when we can’t sleep or when we struggle to concentrate or when we feel a pit in our stomachs that says “something has to change”. I believe God can be a bit pushy, and I am so glad that God is. If God hadn’t pushed so hard, I wouldn’t have finally listened and the consequences of that I don’t dare to imagine.

Holy listening is being open to listening to God active through all of our senses. It’s about allowing God’s voice to break through even when other voices cannot. It’s about reflecting on the ways God tried desperately to speak to us before so that we can recognize those ways in the future. It’s about reminding ourselves that there is always a way out… there is always a way forward. 

Holy listening reminds us that even in the darkest of nights, God will be there rousing us from our sleep.

 

Go Deeper:

A spiritual director can often help us with holy listening. Learn more about Spiritual Direction on our resource page here, and read more about holy listening in spiritual direction from Becky here. Read more from Gretchen on holy listening:Present With Them In Their SufferingListening With More than Just My EarsThe Night When Christ Pulled Up a ChairRead more from Becky on holy listening:Listening for God in ConsolationListening for God When We’re StuckListening for God Through All God’s GiftsListening for God Through Our Imaginations

Photo by Septain Simon on unsplash.com 

 

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Living as Contemplative Leaders in Action: The Only Way Through is Through

My best friend and I went out for a long walk, early on Saturday morning. I talked until I was nearly out of breath, pouring out the details of a painful interaction I’d had with a colleague at work. It was not the first time I had witnessed this bad behavior, and I couldn’t shake it off. I finally decided to make a formal complaint to human resources. I had barely slept that week, tossing and turning nearly every night. Did I do the right thing? 

Finally, my friend spoke up.  “Aren’t you angry?!” she asked. “I’m too tired to be angry,” I replied.  

As we turned around to head back home, she wrapped her arm around my shoulder, “I wish I could make this go away, but I can’t. All I can promise is that I will walk through the fire with you. There is no shortcut, and there is certainly no going backwards. The only way through this – is to go through it. The only way through is through.” 

This incident at work happened so many years ago now, it feels like a distant memory. I am grateful for all the ways I have grown and healed. I not only survived, but I made it through with new professional skills and spiritual tools, despite some very challenging circumstances. I owe a debt of gratitude to my best friend, the women in my prayer group, my spiritual director, and a wonderful therapist. I needed someone else to get angry on my behalf! I needed someone to shine a light through the darkness and show me that I was worth more, that I deserved to be treated better, and that my career and my self-worth would not be defined by this one messy episode in my life. 

Over time, I learned that being an advocate for others can be our greatest source of strength. In my ministry with college students, I often found myself shining the light ahead as they battled with disordered eating, mental health struggles, relationship woes, and sometimes even their own poor choices. Today, a significant part of my work involves drawing attention to the issues of poverty, hunger, migration, and other injustices that plague our world. People’s fundamental dignity and integrity are worth fighting for!  

One of the marks of a contemplative leader is how they live their magis – a Latin word meaning “more” or the “greater”.  Saint Ignatius offers us wisdom to discern the greater good to which God is calling us.  Magis is a result of God’s grace and our attentive listening, and ultimately responding by giving more generously of our gifts. Not simply giving more time, money, or energy; but responding with a wholehearted, deeper yes – perhaps even stretching beyond what we’re comfortable doing. 

Where is a deeper “yes” possible in your life’s work?   

I should clarify, too, what magis is not. Achieving the magis is not the result of our endless striving, being stressed out, or seeking positions of greater authority. Magis is not determined by the size of your bank account or by serving on a dozen extra committees. Our earthly possessions have no significance on God’s ability to do something “more” with our lives.  

This concept of magis is situated within the Spiritual Exercises, and it flows from a reflection on Christ the King. Jesus acts as a servant leader, offering healing and forgiveness, and even accepting suffering. Jesus found himself in trouble with the authorities because he healed people on the Sabbath and associated with those on the margins. We too are called to stand up for others, even when it’s uncomfortable and challenging and has unforeseen consequences.

Discovering our magis flows from Christ’s invitation to join him in his mission of saving and healing the world.  If I’m being completely honest, our “yes” is likely to land us in hot water on occasion! Discipleship is going to cost us something, and it will not exempt us from suffering or rejection. Ultimately, the greater good – our magis – is done in service of God’s love, forgiveness, healing, and justice. It is our participation in God’s salvific plan for the entire world.  

A young friend recently reached out to me, and I find myself practically looking in the mirror at someone who could be my former self – the woman I was all those many years ago. As I walk alongside someone who is bearing the weight of a difficult decision, I hear myself echoing those familiar words, “I wish I could make this go away, but I can’t. All I can promise is that I will walk through the fire with you. There are no shortcuts. The only way through is through.”  

It is humbling and heartbreaking to watch my friend go through something so painful, and this time, my righteous anger is on fire! My life experience makes me uniquely qualified to support her, and I’ve discovered the clarity that comes with distance and time. I know the right questions to ask. I’m not intimidated by the challenges. I have no doubt that God is using me for some greater good, no matter the outcome or the risks. 

Lately, I’ve been praying through the book of Esther. It is the story of a young woman who becomes queen, and must discern risking her own life to save others. The common people beg her to plead with the king on their behalf. “Perhaps you were made queen for just such a time as this.” (Esther 4:14) 

Who knows, perhaps you were made for just such a time as this, too. Whatever moment or circumstance you find yourself in. Magis is about living deeper into the things that God is calling you to right now. What God needs most is you to be more of who you are. Perhaps you are the one who is uniquely positioned to be friending, parenting, teaching, advocating, problem solving, serving, directing, accompanying, and healing a world in need.

 

Go Deeper:

Read more about “Living Your Magis” here: The Magis: An Ignatian Antidote for Burnout, by Gretchen CrowderWhat Does Magis Mean, by Jim Manney Magis Moment Leads to Haiti by Beth Knobbe 

Photo by Joseph Pearson on unsplash.com