Saints: God’s superheroes.

When I was a PhD student, I remember having a conversation with an evangelical Christian acquaintance who told me that:

You Catholics worship Mary and the saints, and that’s blasphemy. There is only one God.

So, how do you answer that one? I answered in a way similar to, but less eloquently put than, Sister Wendy Beckett of the Quidenham Carmelites. She said:

If anyone is in need, they’ll say to their friends ‘pray for me’. Nobody lives alone. We’re a great family of humanity and we like to think others are praying for us. Well, that’s all praying to the Saints means. We’ve got all those people in heaven, those lovely holy fulfilled people, who are in that Paradise and who are aware of us and we say back up our prayers. We certainly don’t pray to them , as opposed to praying to God, because there is only one mediator, our blessed Lord, Jesus himself. But to ask your friends to pray for you, yes, don’t you think that makes sense?

Quoted from Luke Penkett’s Addresses from a Two Day Retreat, copies can be obtained from The Julian Centre in Norwich: http://www.admin@juliancentre.org

Someone told me of a beautiful analogy recently as a reason to ask Mary for her intercession. Imagine a scruffy, dirty beggar who would like to gift the glorious King with an apple: it is all they have. Yet they feel the lack in their apple because it is grubby, bruised and maybe has a maggot or two hiding in it. They want to give something more beautiful, something more, so they ask the Queen, who is much closer to, and knows the King more intimately, to polish up their apple for them, and to present it on their behalf in such a way that the King would receive it with delight. It is not a self loathing that is being described here but a genuine humility and a desire to be more. I would liken it to a time when I was wrapping Christmas presents and my small child wanted to wrap the present she had to give. She became frustrated with the crumpled paper, the sellotape gone awry, and the corners of the box poking out no matter what she did. In the end, she asked me for help and we wrapped the present together. In truth, her dad would have been delighted with the present no matter how scruffily it was wrapped, simply because she had given it to him, but that is not the point here: she wanted the gift to be more than she could present on her own, so she asked for help from someone in a position to enable her to make the gift as she desired it to be. God is always delighted with the gifts we offer Him, no matter how grubby, bruised or wormy: the consolation here is our desire to make it more for His glory, and the grace is the humility to know our limitations and to ask for help.

With the recent canonisations in Rome of John Henry Newman, Guiseppina Vannini, Mariam Thresia Chiramel Mankidiyan, Maria Lopes Pontes and Margeruite Bays, and with All Saints day just gone, I have been thinking about the saints in a general way. A friend of mine, who has also spent some time in the evangelical church, recently expressed some doubt as to the saints as intermediaries. And I suggested to her to think of them as God’s superheroes. There are some parallels.

If you have been reading my blog for a bit, you may have begun to realise that Buffy the Vampire Slayer is my favourite superhero. And there are characteristics that go along with being a superhero which may have some commonality with being a saint, for example, the secret identity. It takes a while for Saints to be canonised, they spend a long time being “venerable” and “blessed”, Margaret Anne Sinclair for one. I remember my Granny had a picture of her and said prayers for her when I was a child. In God time, are they already saints and we just do not know it yet? Few people know that Buffy is the Slayer, or that Peter Parker is Spiderman, or that Clarke Kent is Superman, to name but a few.

Suffering also seems to be a prerequisite of both saints and superheroes. Buffy certainly has her fair share of cuts and bruises, and emotional pain, and she readily sacrifices her life to save others. It is martyrdom territory. Think about Saint Stephen, the first to die for his faith in Jesus, and many of the other saints who died painful deaths in witness to their faith. But it is not just about how they died, it is also about how they lived. Saint Ignatius died quietly and alone in bed.

Another thing that saints and superheroes have in common are lifestyles that are not easily conducive to intimate, happily ever after partnerships. Superheroes rarely have successful relationships, usually opting to sacrifice that part of themselves either to protect those that they do love from the enemies that would use them, or because always being on call to save the world may distract from being able to invest time and energy in maintaining a healthy intimate relationship. It’s a strong partner who is able to share their loved one with the world to that extent. And maybe so too with the saints: most of them were not married. Christopher Howse wrote in The Tablet recently about St. Julian the Hospitaller. He says:

It’s good to come across married saints, even if they are unlucky in life.

Christopher Howse, The Tablet, 12 October 2019

When I was a child, I liked to find secret places to hide away and explore. One day, in one of my favourite places, I found a box of old books that had come from a school. I love books, and always did. I spent some time sitting by this box, flicking through and reading parts of the books. There were some illustrated Bible Histories and a couple of copies of a book with the stories of some of the child saints. The one story that is burned into my soul even now is of Saint Tarcisius, and I remember vividly, feeling myself on fire as I read it, sobbing as the boy died, and wondering if I would be able to do the same: wanting to love God so much that I could do the same.

Of course, Saint Ignatius resorted to reading the “Life of the Saints” when he was convalescing in Loyola, and it was during this period that he noticed the difference between his responses to day dreaming about outdoing the saints in service to God, and his day dreams of being a knight and rescuing damsels in distress. This noticing of the different spirits moving in him was the beginning of his journey deeper into God, and led to him writing the Spiritual Exercises.

Ignatius describes spiritual consolation as when:

…an interior movement is aroused in the soul , by which it is inflamed with the love of its Creator and Lord…when one sheds tears that move to the love of God…every increase of faith, hope and love, and all interior joy that invites and attracts to what is heavenly…

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius; trans Louis J. Puhl, S.J.

Now, with experience, I see that moment of reading the story of Saint Tarcisius as a child as one of profound consolation. Perhaps one of the reasons I am drawn to Ignatian spirituality is because when I first read about how Ignatius had been affected by reading about the lives of the saints, I recognised that fire, the fierce desire to be like that, to want to be able to do likewise. Not to be a saint as such, but to love God to the extent that nothing else mattered.

It is not just about asking the saints to pray for us: they inspire us with their holy superpowers, they are examples of what it means to live for the greater glory of God. And the best sermon is a good example, I read once. I hear it when people talk to me about particular saints they might have a devotion for. Ignatius felt it in his sick bed in Loyola and it inspired him to live differently. I know that I have definitely felt it and perhaps you have too?

The Writing on the Wall.

Reading of The Writing on the Wall 1

In a recent post, I put a link to the video of a cover of Simon and Garfunkel’s song The Sound of Silence by Disturbed. I said it haunted me the first time I saw it, and it has been haunting me again since I posted it. The words that are playing in my head are:

And the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls; and echoed in the wells of silence.

Simon and Garfunkel: The Sound of Silence

The writing on the wall occurs in The book of Daniel, one of the apocalyptic books in the Bible, where the prophet Daniel explains it to King Nebuchadnezzer:

Your days are numbered. You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting.

Daniel 5: 26-27

It is connecting with another previous post where I had commented on some things Ignatius has to say about our attitude towards the Church. It strikes me that we are living in apocalyptic times: there is the climate crisis for one, and I studied atmospheric Chemistry for my PhD: it is not to be dismissed. And it also strikes me that the writing on the wall is a righteous act of defiance against those claiming to have authority. The words from The Sound of Silence imply grafitti, and sometimes, the grafitti written on the walls in defiance of the established authority may well be prophetic. Hazel Jones, the “Grafitti Granny” was recently caught on camera making such a protest, and her activities went viral. She wrote in chalk:

Brexit is based on lies. Reject it.

Hazel Jones, chalk grafitti on walls in Wakefield.

Sometimes it may be the right thing to do to defy the established authority. I draw on the wisdom of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to illustrate my point:

Reading of The Writing on the Wall 2

In the Buffyverse, the watchers council created the slayers, and watched over and directed them. Buffy rejected their authority a few seasons back, and her watcher Giles, was sacked. In this episode, they are trying to use vital information they have about the current foe Buffy is facing, by withholding it, in order to bring the slayer back under their control. They have demanded the final showdown in the scene, imposing their own terms and conditions, and for the most part of the episode, Buffy has been downtrodden. You could say she has been experiencing turmoil of spirits, until finally we see her, claiming her identity and insisting on self determination within that. In essence, she has discerned her path, for me, for now, for good. She speaks with authority, and everyone in the room, watchers council included, recognise her authority.

And it raises the question:

Whose authority do we accept?

We read in the gospels that the people recognised that Jesus spoke with authority:

They were astounded at his teaching, because he spoke with authority.

Luke 4:32

And considering the systemic problem in the Church I wrote about earlier, how do we discern its true authority from when something else is manifesting itself as that authority? How can we tell that it is the voice of God we are hearing and not that of the imposter? I get asked this question a lot when I am listening to people, I ask it of myself, and I ask it of the people I am listening to.

How do you know it is God?

One way is to compare it to a touchstone experience of God. These are moments when we know, without any doubt, that what we are sensing has come from God. If we hold the present experience in one hand, and notice how it feels and where it is leading: and on the other hand, hold the touchstone experience and do the same; we notice the sense of each. If the present experience feels similar to the touchstone one and is leading the soul to be inflamed with the love of God, we might trust that it is of God. If however, on comparing the two, the present experience feels jarring or odd, and is leading to a disturbance, we might discern that it is not of God, or has something not of God tangled up in it perhaps; the darnel sown in with the wheat. Ignatius gives a very useful analogy to help here: if the voice feels like water dropping onto a sea sponge, where it is absorbed gently and wholly, as if the water is part of its own substance, we might trust that to be God. If the voice feels like water dropping onto a stone, and it need not necessarily be noisy like a whole bucket full of water, it could be a quiet, almost difficult to hear, splash of one drop, then that voice is likely to be the evil spirit. Sometimes I notice that both are going on at the same time. There is the noisy, obvious, bucketful of water on a very large boulder, to which I might respond:

I know who you are and I know what you are doing!

And then I try to look for the misdirection, the one drop on a small stone that has been drowned out, the quiet, desolating whisper, telling me that I’m not good enough, and asking me who do I think I am? Who am I to be doing this? It is the voice that whispers to me that I am unworthy, and it sows fear, anxiety, despair, and seeks to undermine my confidence in what I am doing with my heart fixed on the greater glory of God.

Reading of The Writing on the Wall 3

There are many loud voices in our society, claiming to have authority; that others are spreading fake news, and sometimes it can be difficult to know which way is up. We can use our reason to check our facts, to ask ourselves about the credibility of the person speaking: are they an expert in what they are talking about? how are they informed? where are they coming from? what is their bias? their hidden agenda? their history and integrity? And we can look at the effects of their words and actions: we know them by their fruits. Do they bring people together in love, peace and solidarity, or do they sow division and hatred in the world? I am thinking here of the marches from both sides in the Brexit debacle, and the extinction rebellion protests, as well as the variety of responses to these different events on social media, as just a few examples from the public sphere.

I also watched the film “Official Secrets” recently, and it resonated with me in a similar way as Red Joan did earlier in the year.

Reading of The Writing on the Wall 4

Two women in breach of the Official Secrets act, breaking the law and acting from conscience and with extraordinary courage. I do not advocate breaking the law per say, but when we discern that the established world authorities are perpetuating evil, and the legal routes to challenge it are thwarted or exhausted, the prophets speak out, and the courageous stand up, no matter what the cost to themselves. I am humbled by people like Katherine Gun, because while I know what I would like to do, you never really know until you are in that position. I only hope that I would be able to hear God’s voice through the noise and that He would give me the grace I needed to act as He desires.

Reading of The Writing on the Wall 5

Towards the end of the 2016 film Ignacio de Loyola, there is the scene showing the “vision” Ignatius received at the Cardoner River, once he has left the cave at Manresa. Jesus, in the form of a boy, talks to him about the creature he defeated in the cave. He says to Ignatius:

Now you know my voice.

We can learn to recognise the voice of God more clearly, within ourselves and in the world, by praying with scripture, by praying the examen, with the rules for discernment that Ignatius describes in The Spiritual Exercises, and by talking with a spiritual director who can help us to apply them. It helps us to be more able to respond to the true authority of God in our lives, even when it means defying the pseudo authorities of the world who would demand our obedience. Just a final thought on the authentic voice of authority:

A lion will never have to tell you it is a lion.

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this post to an amazing friend of mine who is currently standing up to, and speaking out to a corrupt authority within her own situation. I salute you, and I am praying for you. You know who you are.

All things in a hazelnut.

Reading of All things in a hazelnut part 1

I went to the Saturday retreat day at St Julian’s Church (below) and found an oasis in space and time. There has been a lot of stress in my life recently, and to stop in the midst of it all was, literally, a Godsend.

I was, and was looking for, quiet, and at least until lunchtime, I maintained a quiet solitude within myself. And then to my surprise, I found myself engaged in easy conversation with a variety of different people, who brought me out of myself, in spite of myself.

Reading of All things in a hazelnut part 2

When I was studying to be a Spiritual Director, in the first year, we spent some time learning about all sorts of different spiritualities, not just the Ignatian Way. We spent a day looking at Hermits and Anchorites, Solitaries and the Beguines were also mentioned. In the meditation at the end of that day we were asked to notice our own internal response to what we had been learning. I noticed that I had found it extremely interesting, and in my reflective log later commented that I found it interesting that I had found it interesting. I have since recognised my own solitary nature, and that the longing in my own spiritual journey is for solitude: to go into my room alone with God and to close the door. I had observed a few years before that the more time I spent alone, and alone with God, the more open I was, in a non attached and free way, to other people. It seems a strange paradox, but was evident at the retreat day. I am drawn to Julian of Norwich, partly for this reason, partly because she was a woman writing about God and something of the non-patriarchal attitude in her writing is attractive, and in a similar way to St. Ignatius, she comes at our createdness from the perspective that we are like God “in nature”, that:

The soul…is accorded with God.

A Revelation of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich.

rather than the common perspective than we are doomed sinners. Please do not get me wrong, there is no denial of sin either from Julian or from Ignatius, it is just that holding that our true nature is in God, and that we are completely loved by Him, is hopeful and opens us more freely to allow ourselves to accept the love of God, and to love Him more fully in return. It is the process by which we are transformed. I listen to people who begin from the point that they are doomed and they are so full of guilt that it gets in the way, or they have a subtle nuance in their thinking that they can achieve their own salvation by being good. They seem defeated before they even start, and I am sure I have felt like that at times too.

Reading of All things in a hazelnut part 3

There was a guided meditation on a hazelnut.

Then He showed me a little thing, no bigger than a hazelnut, as it seemed to me, lying in the palm of my hand, and it was as round as a ball. I looked at it with the eye of my understanding and thought:

What can this be?

And I was answered generally:

It is all that is made.

I gazed with astonishment, wondering how it could survive because of its littleness. It seemed to me that it was about to fall into nothingness. And I was answered in my mind:

It lasts and always will last because God loves it.

And so, everything receives its being from the love of God.

In this little thing I saw three truths:

God made it.

God loves it.

God keeps it.

A Revelation of Divine Love, Julian of Norwich.

I was reminded of an imaginative contemplation I had during the exercises on The First Principle and Foundation, where I had been praying with Psalm 139, and pondering my own creation, and I found myself in a repetition of that prayer, focusing on a consolation I had received at that time. I was my small inner child, around four years of age, in the garden with God, wearing my purple sparkly wellies and a simple white dress: I kid you not. Who would put a child in a white dress to do gardening? With my nose running like a burn, as they say where I am from, we were planting sunflowers in a large round flowerbed. He had shown me how to do it, and was over on the other side of the flower bed working, when I stopped to stare at the seeds in my hand. The phrase from the psalm repeated again and again in my mind:

when I was being formed in secret,

textured in the depths of the earth.

Psalm 139: 15b
Reading of All things in a hazelnut part 4

I remember He noticed me standing transfixed, and asked me tenderly:

Sunflower, are you okay?

I whispered to Him in awe:

You made me. Just like this, you made me.

I imagine Julian’s astonishment as she contemplated the vision of the hazelnut to be something similar. In this repetition, I heard those words directed to me:

I made you.

I love you.

I keep you.

I am keeping you very safe.

The last sentence here is another from Revelations of Divine Love, and it is one I hold close to me regularly. Previously I wrote about how Ignatius has said that we should store up the experience of consolation to strengthen us in periods of desolation. This last phrase is one of my consolations that I bring to mind when I notice that I am feeling fearful. Julian says that there are only two sins: anxious fear and despairing fear. Both are a lack of trust in God. Ignatius identifies both the want of faith and the want of hope as signs of desolation, of being pulled away from God. I said earlier that there has been a lot of stress in my life recently, and it has certainly led to me feeling unsafe and fearful at times, and despairing. To hear Him affirm me this way in prayer has shifted my perspective since the retreat day. I spent some time considering the people who have been, and still are, supporting me: friends, family, at Church and particularly my colleagues at work, and for their kindness and tenderness towards me, I am deeply grateful.

It was also mentioned on my course that Revelations of Divine Love could be used as a prayer programme or retreat, in a similar way to The Spiritual Exercises. That possibility I found extremely interesting and wondered how it could work in practice. What would the process be? I thought that when I had finished my training I might go back to that idea and look at it more closely. At the Julian Centre on the day of the retreat, I found the book “40 Day Journey with Julian of Norwich”, Lisa E. Dahill, editor. There are a whole series of 40 Day Journey with… books with a selection of inspirational people. So, feeling inspired by what I have found, it is my intention to go on this 40 day journey with Julian, as a sort of 19th annotation, like in The Exercises, where one day in the journey takes a week of everyday life. I intend to begin at the beginning of the liturgical year: the beginning of advent, so I have some time to ready myself for the journey. Wish me Bon Voyage!

Spotlight

Reading of Spotlight 1

I watched the film “Spotlight” a few weeks ago with a heavy heart. I like a good thriller and usually enjoy those that involve investigative journalism, but the subject matter of this particular film, the exposition of the child abuse scandal in the Church by the Boston Globe, so profoundly upset me that I could not bear to go to see it at the cinema. I thought at one point that I would not watch it at all. However, I found myself a few weeks ago, on Film Friday, putting it on via my daughter’s Netflix account.

Spotlight: a film based on the investigative journalism by the Spotlight team of the Boston Globe into the systemic problem of child abuse by priests in the Catholic Church.
Reading of Spotlight 2

While I enjoyed the investigative journalism aspect of the film, I am deeply affected by it’s content. I wrote in a previous post about the silence of abuse, and I was in part, dwelling on my response to the film, and to the crisis this issue has raised, especially, but not solely, in the Catholic Church. There were a few points that the film brought out for me. The film is based on a true story and I am reflecting on the story in the film. I am currently unaware of exactly where it digresses from real events, although I am aware that Richard Sipe, who suggested to the journalists the figure of six percent, is a real person and his credentials are real.

The first is that the editor, rather than pursue particular individual priests regarding their sexual abuse of children, insisted that the Spotlight journalists look for something more systemic that allowed the abuse to be perpetuated, rather than terminated. To me, this insistence showed great insight, and his, and their, refusal to give in to the voices and threats to silence them, not only showed great courage, but also demonstrated the ways in which the enemy works, as described by Ignatius in the exercises: the tantrum of the spoiled child, the secret whispering of the false lover, even as the general, circling the castle, looking for the weaknesses in the journalists in order to silence them. And the responses of the Spotlight team, to stand strong, and together, to speak out and refuse to have their weaknesses exploited, even as it meant exposing their own failings in not speaking out earlier when they had the information, illustrates how God is able to use us to work against evil in the world.

Reading of Spotlight 3

I have been a teacher long enough in the UK to have been in the system before the current safeguarding practices were in place, and to have seen their evolution from the first introduction of the CRB check and List 99, to the now mandatory DBS check before anyone can work alone with children in a school: from ensuring that all areas where we might meet with a child have glass windows to be visible to people outside of the room, to the mandatory annual safeguarding training, with updates, at the beginning of every school year, for which we have to sign a declaration that we have attended and read the necessary paperwork. I find it excruciating, especially the part where we go over the different types of abuse and the signs that may go with them. Please do not get me wrong here, it is horrifying to hear of all the ways that adults can, and do, hurt and permanently damage children in our care, but I absolutely understand the necessity of these procedures and see that they have altered the culture in the education system to the point where it has become ingrained that safeguarding of children is the responsibility of everyone, and that even the slightest doubt or suspicion is reported to a safeguarding lead, who, if they do not already have a big picture, will raise the question and potentially start the investigation. It is enough to say to them:

Something doesn’t feel right here.

I also see measures in my parish and in other parishes in my diocese: the sacristy door is open when the priest and the altar servers are getting ready for mass, and has glass in it to see into the room, the priest participates in safeguarding training, there is a designated lay person as a safeguarding lead, and their contact details are there, for all to see, on a notice board as you go into the church. Schools and churches are reeling from child abuse disclosures, and the systems which hid and allowed them to continue are being changed. My heart is broken for every single person who suffered from this abuse and complete betrayal of trust, and it is something that we can never makes amends for, we can only feel anger and profound sorrow. The challenge for all of us in the Church is to speak out and make sure it stops. Pope Francis acknowledged as much when he opened the summit on child abuse in February 2019.

The weight of pastoral and church responsibility weighs on our meeting and forces us to discuss in a synodal, deep and sincere way about how to face this evil that afflicts the church and humanity,” Pope Francis said. Catholics were “not looking for simple and obvious condemnation, but concrete and effective measures to put into place.

Pope Francis at the summit on child abuse in Rome, February 2019.

I am not privy to how the BBC has addressed similar scandal within that particular organisation, so I will leave it here.

The second point that the film made was the statistic of six percent of priests were likely to be acting out sexually in this way. While in other contexts it seems like a small proportion, when it was translated unto actual numbers, it was a huge number of priests (around ninety in the Boston scenario) and a larger number of victims, where even one is too many. I remember a conversation with my mum soon after the scandal broke, and she had been talking to her local parish priest who had said that he felt ashamed to walk down the street wearing his dog collar because of it. While not forgetting the six percent, perhaps it is also worth remembering that around ninety four percent of priests are not paedophiles.

Reading of Spotlight 4

The third point, also made in the telephone call with Richard Sipe, was that clericalism provided a respectable hiding place for people with unacceptable tendencies. Perhaps there is an element of thinking that submitting to an external control will keep these urges dormant. Such an undertaking has echoes of the tenth addition of the exercises on penance, where here, a decision to live a life of abstention is made using reason, the second power of the soul, based on understanding of one’s own particular pattern of sin. If sincere and conscious it can be considered to be an exterior penance. However, to live it requires interior movement, for there to be a sincere desire to refrain from the offending behaviour, and also the grace of God. In the tenth addition of The Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius gives a sincere desire for grace as one of the reasons we undertake penance, and it is not something we earn; it is a grace we beg for, and is given by God. A. W. Richard Sipe in his book “Living the Celibate Life: A Search for Models and Meaning” suggests that to live this vocation requires constant vigilance, and for it to be a focused part of a daily examen:

How did I live my celibacy today?

Where might I have been drawn away, in my thoughts and feelings?

For the one offending priest the journalists managed to talk to in the film, there was only fallacious reasoning and pride, and an inability to recognise his own sin. It revealed something ugly and cold, and definitely not the love of God.

In The Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius encourages us to accept the authority of the Church, and when read in the light of the child abuse scandal, the way in which he does is difficult to swallow:

What seems to me white, I will believe to be black if the hierarchical Church so defines.

The Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

It is pertinent to remember that Ignatius was operating at the time of the Spanish Inquisition and that he also says:

But while it does harm in the absence of our superiors to speak evil of them before the people, it may be profitable to discuss their bad conduct with those who can apply a remedy.

The Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

It is important to be clear to what we are referring and here, Ignatius refers to clergy in higher positions of authority. Similar clarity is needed, for instance as regards the abuse survivor in the trailer saying:

How do you say no to God?

The priest is not God: neither is a particular priest, bishop nor cardinal the Church. And the Church is not God. They are not all the same. Priests, bishops and cardinals can be as guilty as anyone of bad conduct because they are human: the Church is an imperfect institution, subject to the flaws of human frailty. George A. Aschenbrenner in his book “Stretched for Greater Glory” draws a parallel with the parable of the wheat and the darnel in Matthew’s gospel. He says:

“Some enemy has done this” (13.28). Yet Jesus is also clear that the darnel and the wheat will be allowed to grow together until the end. The mixture of consolation and desolation will continue in all human hearts, which therefore are the only field in which holiness can germinate, bud and blossom.

George A. Aschenbrenner. Stretched for Greater Glory

While we may expect, on a superficial level, for the church to be perfect, we must recognise that it is not: it is managed by human beings engaged in the process of discernment, and we must therefore be vigilant for where the enemy has sown the darnel in with the wheat. Saying no to a priest, or the Church, is not necessarily saying no to God. And I do appreciate that the survivor was speaking from the perspective of a child, and a child might not appreciate the distinction. But as discerning members of the Church, we do have a duty to discuss their bad conduct with those who can apply a remedy. In the case of the child abuse scandal, since the problem was systemic within the Church, that duty fell to the Spotlight team of the Boston Globe. We owe them a debt of gratitude, because although it is painful, and shameful, this corruption has to be rooted out. In the Church, as in school, safeguarding of children and vulnerable adults is the responsibility of everyone.

Tomb Day. I painted this while I was doing the Spiritual Exercises by the thirty day retreat, on the day after praying with the crucifixion and death of Jesus, and before moving into the fourth week.

Religion and politics

In front of Pilate. Detail from a door at the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Passion Facade.
Reading of this post to make life easier for my dyslexic friends and anyone else who also likes to listen.
Religion and Politics 1

There has been much talk in the UK press about what does and does not belong in politics, about who has and has not the right to speak out, and in what context. There were some articles in The Guardian newspaper questioning Her Majesty’s lack of involvement in the political arena and bizarrely, where lawyers challenged the right of judges making a judgment of unlawful behaviour with respect to proroguing parliament:

Government lawyers had told the court, which sits in Westminster directly opposite parliament, that the justices should not enter into such a politically sensitive area, which was legally “forbidden territory” and constitutionally “an ill-defined minefield that the courts are not properly equipped to deal with”.

The Guardian, September 24 2019
Sign in West Pottergate, Norwich. It has since been removed.
Religion and Politics 2: Of course, I meant to say 2 thousand and 19. Silly me.

In The Tablet (14 September 2019) the president of the Catholic Theological Association of Great Britain, Dr. Ashley Beck, is quoted as saying:

If we push the language of God out of this or that crisis or moral issue, we’re pushing God out,

Article in The Tablet, 14 September 2019, by Margaret Hebblethwaite, p31

and on the same page, in the same issue, Archbishop Eamon Martin is quoted as saying that bringing faith into politics is:

…not an optional extra for a committed Christian.

Article in The Tablet, 14 September 2019, p31

I started an argument once on an online group where the comment from the Bishops of the Church of England about how they were praying for the country and how Brexit had caused division and acrimony in Britain, was greeted with derision. Comments such as:

Well, that’ll fix it then.

and

They should keep their religion out of politics.

to me, showed a lack of very basic understanding of the nature of living in faith. The words from the bishops had come from their prayer together, and from their noticing the division and rise of aggression and violence in our society, the increase in racist attacks, of intolerance. They were speaking out, and calling out the deterioration of moral values and behaviour. Here is the prayer they made:

A prayer for the UK.

A Prayer for the UK

In this time of turmoil…

We pray for the Prime Minister and Party Leaders as they negotiate the political future of our nation:
Father, give them your wisdom and vision.

We pray, and calling for all in Parliament as they represent their communities:
Jesus, give them your humility and strength.

We pray for the media as they interpret events for the nation:
Holy Spirit, give them your truth and compassion.

We pray for ourselves, your Church, as we show your love to our neighbours:
Would we speak hope, embody courage and model unity in diversity.

Almighty God, we place our trust in you:
For yours is the kingdom the power and the glory, now and forever, Amen

Church of England, Prayer for Brexit
Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Passion Facade. The word in gold on the door in the background: Veritat? meaning Truth?
Religion and Politics 3

Time and time again, I have heard this point of view, that religious faith should be kept out of politics: it dismisses it to merely a private matter. And there is a hypocrisy to this viewpoint. I object just as vehemently to having atheism thrust down my throat as the atheist does to any crude attempt to convert them, and I also have as much right to live my life, think my thoughts and express my opinion as the atheist does. The issue here is about respect: and the growing lack of respect in Britain is what prompted the Church of England response.

I should also comment that my political opinion on Brexit was the same as those in the online group: I took issue with their derision of the Church speaking out and their ad hominem attacks, rather than noticing the legitimate concern of the Church about the vitriolic discourse now rife in British society. The online group both missed my point and vindicated the point the Church of England was making.

The meaning of the word “political” as given by the Oxford dictionary is:


1. relating to the government or public affairs of a country.


relating to the ideas or strategies of a particular party or group in politics.

interested in or active in politics.


motivated by a person’s beliefs or actions concerning politics.

2. derogatory done or acting in the interests of status or power within an organization rather than as a matter of principle.

I am thinking that by this point, it is obvious that my opinion is that when we are called to be prophets, when we speak out, we are being political. It is inevitable: and to think it reasonable that a person of faith ought not to express their opinion publicly is to not understand what faith is. Worse than that, it is a double standard, because the atheist also speaks from a position of faith.

Scripture sets a precedent for the people of God being politically active. The Book of Amos has social justice as one of its major themes, where social justice is described as:

… a concept of fair and just relations between the individual and society. This is measured by the explicit and tacit terms for the distribution of wealth, opportunities for personal activity, and social privileges.

Remember that Jesus was crucified for sedition! One does not come in front of the governor of the region for judgement, or cause social unrest without being political. So, we are in good company here.

Why would they want to stop us from speaking out, from expressing our opinions when we are speaking from the ground of our being in God?

St. Ignatius has some things to say about how the enemy, the one opposed to God, goes about his business. The first is that he behaves as a spoiled child, simpering, batting his eyes, stamping his feet, throwing a tantrum and going in the huff when he does not get his way. (Okay, Ignatius actually said like a woman, and given his time, I’m going to let him off the hook on that one, and simply update what he describes to our day and age). The second is as a false lover, who flatters and whispers lies in secret and solicits something unwholesome, telling us it is just between us, our little secret and that we should not tell anyone else about it. The third is as a general, circling the castle to find the weak spot from where to launch an attack; stabbing at our soft underbelly and filling us full of doubt and self recrimination. When we are speaking out, standing up for our principles as guided by our faith, how many of these strategies do we notice in the people who stand in opposition to us?

Ignatius also makes suggestions as to how we deal with each of these scenarios. In the first, he suggests a show of strength, to be unwavering. Of course, any parent who has gone through the toddler years, knows that you have to stand your ground and weather the storm, even as your furious child is attracting all the disapproving, and sympathetic stares of others in the supermarket, or whatever public place they have decided to show you up in. Maximum power, minimum reason. In terms of weakness, one of mine is that I try to be reasonable and base my opinions and arguments on evidence. I know, you would think that this is a strength and in the academic world it is, but in the world of populist politics and online discourse, which fuels the lynch mob mentality, the voice of reason cannot always be heard above the noise, and sometimes may give the space for those who act from an unreasonable standpoint, who show no such scruples, to step in and abuse. Ignatius suggest shoring up the weak walls in our castle, and that may mean continuing in faith, in the course that we know to be right, to stand strong, as in the first case of dealing with the spoiled child. In the second scenario, the secret whispering, Ignatius encourages us to tell, to disclose what is going on in us with someone well versed in discernment of spirits: a spiritual director, or a close friend with such skills. When the turmoil of the dark recesses of our mind are put on the table and God’s light shone on them, they lose their power to potentially uproot us. Our doubts and fears expressed, cannot withstand the process of discernment when examined in the light with the help of another. And through this process we find the courage to face them. Notice that the company of those also engaged in this process of living reflectively in God is important in strengthening and encouraging us. Ignatius suggests discernment, prayer and penance to help strengthen us when we find ourselves beset with that which would pull us away from God. As for the latter, I have a lot to say about penance, but I will save it for another day, at the appropriate time.

At the end of the day, Ignatius describes three steps for those standing with Christ:

…the first, poverty as opposed to riches; the second insults or contempt as opposed to the honour of this world; the third, humility as opposed to pride. From these three steps, let them lead men to other virtues.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

and in The Contemplatio, he makes the first point:

…love ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.
Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Passion Facade. Detail of Pilate washing his hands of the crucifixion of Jesus.
Religion and Politics 4

If we were to accept popular direction to keep our religious beliefs out of politics, are we not simply acting like Pilate, and washing our hands of what happens in our society? In unapologetic defense of my own position, I am a Psalm 40 person:

See, I will not hold my tongue,

As well you know.

Psalm 40: 9b. The New Jerusalem Bible, Readers Version.

IGR: Individually Guided Retreat

I have recently returned from my annual IGR, this year at Penhurst Retreat Centre in Kent, and I have been reflecting on conversations I have with a variety of people who have never had this experience.

I’ve been going on this type of retreat ever year for such a long time now (this year was my 19th IGR) that perhaps I take the process, but never the opportunity, a bit for granted.

As a PhD student, I was involved with the Catholic Student Council (CSC) and was the secretary on the Team for a year. As part of our preparation, we did a team retreat for three days, which started off in silence. I took to the silence as if I was designed for it. After a day and a half though, I had a chat with someone, not involved in the retreat, who told me that it was okay for me to talk. I lost something in that conversation: I can only describe it as if I had been in a dreamlike state that you might enter walking alone along a beach, where hours can pass and it seems like minutes, and then I had been forcefully brought back into the noise, chaos and pressure. It was something that I was unable to get back at that time, and I longed for more of it for years afterwards.

Over ten years later, I booked into Loyola Hall for an eight day IGR, and looked forward to spending that time alone with God. When you remove yourself from the world in this way, it is like the world stops turning, until you enter back into it at the end of the retreat. Certainly, you arrive there with your agenda and concerns, the things you want to talk to God about, and you may want Him to address, but after a day or two, you move onto His agenda. And often, the things that were so important when you arrived, seem less so at the end: you have a whole different perspective, even perhaps when you have not thought about them, other than at the beginning of the retreat. It is also a common experience that problems have resolved themselves, and answers have presented themselves without dwelling on them at all, once they are handed over to God at the beginning. Letting go and trusting Him are not to be underestimated.

So, what happens? Usually, there is time to settle in, including a house tour if you have not been to that place before, and dinner in the evening, which is a talking affair. It gives a little time to introduce each other in the group making the retreat at the same time. It is amazing how much you can get to know someone after eight days without speaking to them! Then there is a meeting where housekeeping is presented, and most importantly, you are introduced to your spiritual director for the week. You are shown to where you will meet with them and choose a time slot for your daily meeting. They may, or may not, suggest something from scripture to look at to help you settle into an attitude of prayer and silence, and after this point the silence begins. Each day, you meet with your director and share what is happening in your prayer, and usually, the director will make suggestions what you might pray with next, or they might ask you what you feel drawn to pray with. For me, this year, the director made no suggestions at all to me, and it felt a little scary initially, until I spoke to myself about my own formation as a spiritual director, and that I was more than capable of choosing myself, since I am well able to do it for others. She smiled when I told her of this initial feeling and said:

You seemed to know what you were doing.

It would be an example of the eighteenth annotation of the Spiritual Exercises in practice:

The Spiritual Exercises must be adapted to the condition of the one who is to engage in them, that is, to his age, education, and talent.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl S.J.

In teaching terms, it is effective differentiation. And speaking of difference, not every retreat, and not every director is the same. And so too for the impact. I have come back from some with a few changes I knew I needed to make; and I have come back from others different, with no idea about how to respond, but just the certainty that life was never going to be the same again, because I had fundamentally changed. After my fifth IGR, the shift was so significant that by the October half term I was feeling that my life as it was was unmanageable and that I had to find a way to live differently within my context. It was at this point that I sought out a spiritual director in everyday life, and his support since then is invaluable to me, and is one thing I am deeply grateful for. With some directors I have felt well met, others less so but we have been able to communicate effectively, and one or two, I have to admit, have brought out my rebellious, stubborn steak. One so much so, that I texted my director in life to ask:

What is wrong with the way I pray?

One year, I went to Loyola itself: Gerry W. Hughes had organised an ecumenical IGR there, and I was very fortunate to get a place on it. In his preamble on the first evening, on talking about the role of the director, he said:

At the very least, we pray not to get in the way.

Gerry W. Hughes, Loyola IGR, 2007.

In answer to my question, my director in everyday life affirmed me about my prayer and told me to trust myself, and also reassured me that it would be appropriate for me to ask for a different director if I felt unable to work with the one assigned to me. I decided to work with the one I had, and focused on my relationship with God, not with the director. In the fifteenth annotation, Ignatius says of the director that they:

…should permit the Creator to deal directly with the creature, and the creature directly with his creator and Lord.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl S.J.

I remember this particular point both when I am listening to others and when I am being listened to. Only once have I asked for a specific director: I usually try to remain open and trusting. I once met someone who had done the Spiritual Exercises in the thirty day retreat format and had not connected with her director at all. She continued to work with him for the duration however, and said that in the end, it was irrelevant, because the process was between her and God, and happened regardless. The best situation is where we get the director we need, which may not always be the director we think we want.

Regarding the location, I made myself very much at home at Loyola Hall before it closed, and since then at St. Beunos, where I made The Spiritual Exercises a few years ago. Every so often, circumstances have moved me to a different location, Penhurst this year, which has always been refreshing. The best locations, in my experience, are situated a bit out of the way, withdrawn from the world, where it would take a deliberate effort to put yourself out there. Both Penhurst and St Beunos are in beautiful, quiet, settings, well away from the business of the world. In two places I have been – Loyola and Dunblane – the town was right on the doorstep, and this made it more difficult, but not impossible, to sink deeply into silence and remain there. The business of the world, the shops, coffee shops, cars and streets were always calling, and the temptation to walk out on the silence when it was difficult was always there and easy to give in to. But on the other hand, temptation is just another opportunity to choose God, so choosing to remain in the silence in this situation is a huge deal and a movement towards greater spiritual maturity. It is good training to hold onto our centre when we are back in the world.

The day on an IGR follows a rhythm of its own, punctuated by structured periods of communal prayer, liturgy, mass, exposition, the meeting with the director and mealtimes. I’m quite at home with the concept of a timetable, and I usually factor in painting, tai chi and a shower, the latter happening at a different time of day from my usual routine for an unknown reason, but which feels quite natural on retreat. And of course, formal prayer periods. I aim for three one hour periods, but I often have to build up to that, or can only only manage two, or shorter prayer periods. There is a balance between discipline and flow – it is something to neither avoid nor force: it is about noticing how you are feeling and what is drawing you. If I felt I wanted to walk the labyrinth after lunch, instead of tai chi, that is probably what I would do; forcing myself to do tai chi at this point, simply because it was the designated activity on my self designed timetable and I must be disciplined in my spiritual life, may well prove to be unproductive. If I felt like I did not want to go to the communal liturgy in whatever format it took, and I have, quite a lot, I would take careful notice of what was moving in me, before I decided whether to go or not. Discernment is key, even in what we choose to do on retreat, and often, spending time sitting staring into space is required.

As for mealtimes, suffice to say, quite often the inner battles people have manifest themselves in the dining room with either too much or not enough eating, crying, sighing, inappropriate laughing, staring, coming in late…all manner of ways, that perhaps we might consider rude. It is best to be kind in our inner attitude, because we have no concept of how others are being challenged by God, or how the spirits opposed to God are whipping up an internal cacophony within them. And when it is our own struggle, it is still best to be kind in our inner attitude towards ourselves.

Window, Penhurst Church

So, why do I do this kind of retreat every year? First and foremost, I promised God on the the first one that I would. Secondly, I need to. During the year in between, my edges become a little frayed by the constant bombardment and sensory and emotional overload of the world in which I live and work and the retreat allows me to rest in God for a significant period of time that I cannot replicate in my day to day life. I sink deeper into Him on retreat, and it re-orientates me. Sometimes, the shift is paradigm, like an earthquake, where the plates have been moving gradually for a while, and the tension is such that a huge movement occurs. And sometimes, it is simply much needed rest within His love, where I come back to myself again. If it is not something you have ever done, and you have the opportunity, I thoroughly recommend that you give it a try for yourself.

Starts this week!

The same programme as at Sheringham and Cromer earlier in the year. All are welcome to attend who can get there. The booklet is given below if you want to print it for yourself.

Image on flyer: Stained Glass of St. Ignatius at Loyola Castle (thejesuitpost.org)

Contemplation in Action

With the school holidays coming to an end, and with my post last week on discerning whether to remain in work we do not want to do, I have been thinking about work and the discussion which took place at the Norwich Christian Meditation event I went to. Fr. Korko spent some time looking at Contemplation in Action (Karma Yoga). He drew on the Hindu scripture the Bhagavad Gita (The Song of God) and the Bible to elucidate an attitude to our work that is consistent with what Ignatius describes in the First Principle and Foundation, and in the Contemplatio of the Spiritual Exercises.

3.5.2. Work with noble motive.

Yesu Nama Japan (The Practice of Jesus Prayer), Korkoniyas Moses S.J.

Whatever you eat, drink or do, do everything for the glory of God.

1 Cor 10:31

Whatever you do, whatever you eat, whatever you offer in sacrifice, whatever you give away as charity and whatever austerity you perform do that as an offering unto me.

Bh. Gita 9:27

In the Principle and Foundation of the Exercises, Ignatius says:

Our one desire and choice should be what is more conducive to the end for which we are created.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

and that is:

…to praise, reverence and serve God our Lord,

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

Hence, the first thing to consider in our work is the reason we are doing that particular job: we may or may not enjoy the work we are doing, but the question for us really to consider in our hearts is how does it help, or not help us, praise , reverence and serve God. It might be we need to change our work if it leads us away from God, or we need to change our own attitude to the work we are doing. I know I said in my last post that I could not bear to watch or put clips from the Green Mile, but the ending might be relevant here (spoiler alert):

The scene, although not exactly an imaginative contemplation about what decision something might want to have made when considering it from their death bed, it has echoes of it. Had he fully appreciated what was moving in him at the time, would he have made different decisions about how he responded within his work? With respect to those not making a change to their material situation, Ignatius says:

…to propose a way for each to reform his manner of living in his state by setting before him the purpose of his creation and of his life and position, namely, the glory and praise of God our Lord and the salvation of his soul.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

And it was largely around this point that the discussion took place; if I do not want to do the job I am doing, and I recognise that I am working with noble motive and for the greater glory of God, I can keep going.

I was struck recently about James Martin’s commentary in Jesus A Pilgrimage, in the chapter on Parables, where he describes a perspective on the Parable of the Talents, given by Barbara Reid. It is worth giving the detail here. He says:

The third servant, she believes, is the honorable one, because he refused to cooperate with a system in which the master continues to accrue large amounts of money while others are poor.

Reid sees the parable as a warning “about the ease with which people can be co-opted by an unjust system,” while also encouraging disciples to expose unfettered greed. She believes that the last verse shows what happens to those who “blow the whistle” on the rich and powerful.

Jesus A Pilgrimage, James Martin S.J.

It is the phrase of “manner of living” and these two ideas that are converging in my mind. What if we remain in our current state, or work, and look to change the manner in which we live within it? What would have happened if Paul Edgecomb (the character played by Tom Hanks in the Green Mile) had acted on the movements within him, and refused to execute John Coffey? Would it inevitably lead him to refuse to walk the Green Mile with others, and therefore put him in a position where his employment in the prison was completely untenable? Barbera Reid refers specifically to greed in her interpretation, but the principle can be applied to all areas where there are unjust power structures, where we cooperate with the structures of sin in the world.

In contrast to slaves, who live in servile fear of a greedy master who metes out cruel punishment to those who will not go along with this program for self-aggrandizement, Jesus’s disciples live with trust in God, whose equitable love emboldens them to work for justice here and now while awaiting ultimate fulfillment.

Jesus A Pilgrimage, James Martin S.J.

Difficult questions…where can we stand up and say no to the unjust, immoral practices we encounter in our work, without having to make the decision to walk away completely, or be made to leave? I have done it several times, and it is not comfortable.

3.5.2 Work dutifully with gratitude.

Yesu Nama Japan (The Practice of Jesus Prayer), Korkoniyas Moses S.J.

This section is grounded in the Contemplatio, or more accurately, Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, which comes at the end of the Spiritual Exercises, and the point is, not to earn the love of God, that is already given, but to learn to love as God loves. And the first point that Ignatius makes is that:

…love ought to manifest itself in deeds rather than in words.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

and Ignatius suggests that we:

…recall to mind the blessings of creation and redemption, and the special favours I have received.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

We are encouraged to see all that supports us as gift, and from here, we are moved to gratitude to God, and desire to work for His purposes in the world so that we regard:

…all our works, our responsibilities, and all of our actions as a contribution to the welfare of the world.

Yesu Nama Japan (The Practice of Jesus Prayer), Korkoniyas Moses S.J.

3.5.3 Work as an instrument of God.

Yesu Nama Japan (The Practice of Jesus Prayer), Korkoniyas Moses S.J.

When we consider of God that:

He conducts Himself as one who labours.

The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans Louis J. Puhl S.J.

then:

When we collaborate with God in the work of His creation we become like Him.

Yesu Nama Japan (The Practice of Jesus Prayer), Korkoniyas Moses S.J.

I love this idea that in our work, we are collaborating with God and becoming like Him…it is the seed of God, growing into God as described in the Meister Eckhart quote in the header. Fr. Korko expresses the attitude that the ability and opportunity to work is a gift, and that when we work, we are instruments in the hands of God. It is from this context that the question from my last post was posed. I mentioned that I had had periods where I was not filled with joy and zest at going into work, but that I had kept in mind what had drawn me into the work in the first place (first time choice). I’m thinking specifically of when I had glandular fever and subsequently experienced chronic fatigue. Here, it illustrates the example of noble motive: I was struggling with the work, but focus on my reasons for being there was part of what kept me going into work. Being grateful for my job, and the support I was given to enable me to be there as much as possible, in spite of the difficulty, something that was expressed in my examen at the end of the day, was also important.

Can be printed onto A3 (or A4) card to have in your prayer spot if it helps you to remember the process.

It kept me aware that health and opportunity to work were not given to everyone, and the benefits of autonomy and security were not to be taken for granted. How many people are only one decision, an illness or unfortunate occurrence away from being on the streets? Also important was the grace I always asked for in my morning prayer: the energy and the strength to do and be what He would have me do and be today. Ignatius encourages us to ask for the graces we desire at the beginning of our prayer, and in doing so, we are handing ourselves over to be instruments of God.

Can be printed onto A3 (or A4) card to have in your prayer spot if it helps you to remember the process.

And again, receiving such grace was also a point of gratitude at the end of the day. And there were days when the answer was:

Not today. You need to rest today.

And I would sleep for several hours, with a sense of relief that at least for today, I did not have to fight against the lethargy in my body.

Contemplation in action, in relation to the work we do, brings God right into the heart of what we do: our work is not separate from our faith in God, it is the means by which God can act in the world when we allow ourselves to be His instruments in the world. Being mindful of God in all things and living consciously and reflectively opens us to this potential.

Pilgrimage

I am reading Jesus A pilgrimage by James Martin S.J. at the moment, and since I have just come back from my cycling tour, I have been thinking a lot about what Pilgrimage means. In the dictionary of course, it says:

A journey made to a sacred place, or a religious journey.

I’m not a good traveler – I don’t like being on planes or buses, or trains for too long: I’m happy enough driving myself, but I don’t like being a car passenger. I get motion sickness and find it all a bit stressful. I’ve always been quite happy with the idea of the religious journey, and that the inner journey is in itself, a pilgrimage, without the necessity of making a literal journey. However, I have recognised something different about my cycle touring now, compared with when I was younger and something of the sign James Martin describes near the entrance of the Church of the Nativity in his book hit home with me. It says:

We are hoping that: If you enter here as a tourist, you would exit as a pilgrim. If you enter here as a pilgrim, you would exit as a holier one.

Jesus A pilgrimage, James Martin S.J.

In my student days when I last did cycle touring, I visited castles and tourist attractions on my stops, but now that I’ve taken it up again in my second stage of life, I find myself less interested in that sort of thing, and more drawn to churches, abbeys and priories, and in finding a still, quiet spot so that I can pray. The difference was underlined this year when I stopped in Framlingham in Suffolk. Although I’d set my sights on visiting the castle there, when I arrived, I spent a significant time in the church, praying and soaking it in, but then swiftly moved past the castle, having lost any interest in it. There was a definite compulsion to get on the road again and to not linger any further. In God in All Things, Gerry Hughes says:

Pilgrimage is a way of projecting our inner and unmanageable hopes, longings, bewilderment, fears and confusions into an outer and more manageable form. We choose some objective that represents the undeniable longing of the inner self.

God in All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

And it is making me think deeply about what is going on in me. He also says:

Because they are on a journey, they do not know what is coming next: they do not have the final answers. Pilgrims are constantly subject to surprises and have to take risks.

God in All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

And I know I don’t have answers. There were risks on my tour…the track on Peddars way disappeared at times and it felt like I was traveling through jungle: my bike got damaged and I had to replace the back wheel. And yet, on this track I encountered the surprise of the stone carved cross:

Stone carved cross on Peddars Way. Summer tour 2019.

And even though I wouldn’t want to do it again, I’m still glad I did it the first time, because I wouldn’t want to have missed it. A strange parallel: I can think of mistakes in my life that I wouldn’t want to make again, but I wouldn’t change it if I had the time again, because of what has come out of it. And again, thinking about what comes out of it, Gerry Hughes says:

…reaching my destination is of minor importance compared with the lessons I learned through the journey itself.

God in All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

but also, in apparent contradiction:

Pilgrimage mirrors life in that it needs direction and purpose.

God in All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

Again, this rings true. I have my accommodation already booked and a set number of miles to cycle in order to get there – direction and purpose. But the road is unfamiliar to me. It is mapped out, and I set off, possibly with some ideas about where and when I will stop, but it doesn’t always happen in the way I have planned. In terms of where I stopped to pray, these were left mostly to be encountered on the way, trusting that I would find Him there on the journey.

God is on the journey all the time, not just at the end of it.

God in All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

I found it to be the case. There was one place I traveled through, and it was lunchtime and raining, so a good time to stop. But the place was dedicated to Mammon, and I experienced such a revulsion there that I kept on going, shaking the dust off of my feet as I left. I ate my lunch sitting in a lay by on a busy road, contemplating the strength of the revulsion I had felt passing through the previous town.

St. Ignatius himself was of course a pilgrim, and in a far more serious way than I am describing here, or that I could even aspire to. Brian Grogan S.J. in his book about St Ignatius says:

The pilgrim is one who ventures into a foreign land, who makes himself an alien, who loses contact with the familiar props of his ordinary life, and who deprives himself of all help other than the charity that people show to those whom they do not know, but who have the indications of being poor.

Alone and on Foot, Ignatius of Loyola, Brian Grogan S.J.

In the film, The Way, the father character, played by Martin Sheen, is criticized by one of his fellow pilgrims because he has the back up of his credit card and his wealth. I felt this criticism, because I am fully aware of the structures I put in place to keep myself safe on my trip.

There is a tension here, as perhaps there is in all aspects of life – the need to make plans versus complete trust in God. Perhaps the physical journey, the pilgrimage, is a fractal pattern of the movement in life itself; from self reliance to complete trust and reliance on God and those He works through on our journey. We have to recognise God in others.

Each one of us lives within this Trinity, so my life is essentially a life of relatedness: a relatedness not only to the three divine persons but to every human being and to the whole of creation.

All Things, Gerard W Hughes S.J.

In the life of St. Ignatius, we have an inspiring example of what that means. Ignatius is attributed as saying after all:

Act as if everything depended on you; trust as if everything depended on God.

Saint Ignatius of Loyola

And finally, to the last part of the trailer of the film The Way:

Oh, you can do this on a bike? Why the hell are we walking?

Joost, The Way.

Suffice to say, I have a desire to do just that, El Camino, by bike.

Coming soon…

The same programme as at Sheringham and Cromer earlier in the year. All are welcome to attend who can get there. The booklet is given below if you want to print it for yourself.

Image on flyer: Stained Glass of St. Ignatius at Loyola Castle (thejesuitpost.org)