The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything (3 page)

Ignatius spent the rest of his life in Rome as the superior of the Jesuits, writing the Jesuit
Constitutions,
sending men to all corners of the globe, corresponding with the Jesuit communities, continuing his spiritual counseling, starting Rome’s first orphanage, opening the Collegio Romano (a school for boys that soon developed into a university), and even founding a house for reformed prostitutes called the Casa Santa Marta. Ignatius continued his work on the
Constitutions
and his management of the increasingly large religious order until his death.

By the end, years of asceticism had taken a toll. In the last year of his life, he suffered from liver problems, high fevers, and physical exhaustion, in addition to the stomach problems that had plagued him all his life. Eventually he was confined to his room. In his final days, the Jesuit infirmarian, the one in charge of those who were ill, reported hearing “Father Ignatius” sighing during his prayer and calling out softly,
“Ay, Dios!
” He died on July 31, 1556.

Today St. Ignatius Loyola may not elicit the kind of warm affection that many other saints do—like, say, Francis of Assisi or Thérèse of Lisieux, the “Little Flower.” Perhaps this is a result of the austere tone of his autobiography. Perhaps it is because his letters are often concerned with practical matters, including begging money for the new Jesuit schools. Perhaps it is because some portraiture shows him not as a lighthearted young man but as a grim-faced administrator seated at his desk—though Peter Paul Rubens’s painting, now in the Norton Simon Museum in California, depicts him gazing heavenward, wearing richly brocaded red vestments, his face streaming with tears of joy. Rubens had better insight into Ignatius than most artists: he belonged to a group of lay Catholics organized by the Jesuits.

Contemporary accounts portray Ignatius as an affectionate man, given to laughter and frequently moved to tears during Mass or while in prayer. Still, some modern-day Jesuits persist in envisioning him as a stern father. An elderly Jesuit once said to me about the prospect of heaven, “I have no problem with Jesus judging me. It’s
Ignatius
who worries me!”

But his ability to gather devoted followers shows that there must have been tremendous warmth to the man. His deep compassion also enabled him to bear with some difficult personalities in the Society of Jesus. One of his contemporaries wrote, “He is mild, friendly, and amiable so that he speaks with the learned and unlearned, with important and with little people, all in the same way: a man worthy of all praise and reverence.”

The founder of the Society of Jesus was ambitious, hardworking, and practical. “Saint Ignatius was a mystic,” wrote William James, the American philosopher, “but his mysticism made him one of the most powerfully practical human engines that ever lived.” At every juncture, he fought for the Society of Jesus. But he was also flexible. Thanks to his spiritual practices, Ignatius enjoyed remarkable interior freedom: he considered himself “detached” about even the Jesuit Order. He once said that if the pope ever ordered the Jesuits to disband, he would need only fifteen minutes in prayer to compose himself and be on his way.

Still, it was probably a good thing that he wasn’t around in 1773, when the Holy See
did
disband the Jesuits. A welter of European political powers forced the pope to suppress the Society, mainly because they thought its universality and devotion to the papacy impinged upon their own sovereignty. Pope Clement XIV formally issued a document of “suppression,” abolishing the Society of Jesus. (The empress Catherine the Great, no fan of Clement, refused to promulgate the decree in Russia, thus legally keeping the Jesuits alive.)

After four decades, the political winds changed, and the Jesuits, many of whom had kept in close touch with one another in the intervening years, were officially “restored” in 1814. Not everyone was happy about the restoration of the Society of Jesus. Two years later, John Adams wrote breathlessly to Thomas Jefferson. “I do not like the late resurrection of the Jesuits,” he wrote, “shall we not have swarms of them here, in as many shapes and disguises as ever a king of gypsies . . . himself assumed?”

T
HE
S
PIRITUAL
E
XERCISES
AND THE
C
ONSTITUTIONS

While he was busy writing the
Constitutions,
Ignatius was also putting the finishing touches on his classic text,
The Spiritual Exercises,
his manual for a four-week period of meditation on the life of Jesus, first published in 1548. And to understand what follows in this book, you have to know something about the Spiritual Exercises, the primary gift of Ignatius to the world. (Hereafter, references to the text of
The Spiritual Exercises
will be italicized; references to overall experience of the Spiritual Exercises will be left in plain text.)

The Spiritual Exercises

The Exercises are organized into four separate sections, which Ignatius calls “weeks.” One version calls for a person to withdraw from daily life for four weeks of meditation, with four or five prayer periods daily. Today this version is usually done in a retreat house, where the retreatant is guided by a spiritual director. So the Spiritual Exercises are usually made over the course of a full month. (Often you’ll hear Jesuits refer to the Thirty-Day Retreat or the Long Retreat.)

But Ignatius wanted as many people as possible to enjoy the Exercises, so he included several notes, or annotations, in his text for the sake of flexibility. Some people might not be ready for the whole Exercises, he wrote, so they could complete them only in part. Others might profit from having the
insights
of the Exercises taught to them. In his nineteenth annotation, he suggests that those involved in “public affairs or pressing occupations” could do the Exercises over a longer period while continuing with their daily responsibilities. Rather than praying for one month straight, you might pray for one hour a day and stretch the retreat over several months. Today this is called the 19th Annotation Retreat or the Spiritual Exercises in Daily Life.

As John W. O’Malley, the eminent Jesuit historian, wrote in his study of the early years of the Society,
The First Jesuits,
“Ignatius’s most fundamental teaching was that individuals had to find the way that suited them best.”

The Exercises follows a careful plan, which is based on the path of spiritual progress that Ignatius noted in himself and, later, in others.
The First Week
looks at gratitude for God’s gifts in your life and, then, at your own sinfulness. Sometimes a deep sin is revealed, like selfishness. In the end, you are usually led to realize that you are a sinner (or a flawed human being) who is still loved by God.

The Second Week
is a series of meditations taken directly from the New Testament, focusing on the birth, young adult life, and eventual ministry of Jesus of Nazareth. Here you follow Jesus in his preaching, healings, and nature miracles, which bring you in contact, in an imaginative way, with Jesus in his earthly ministry.

The Third Week
focuses on the Passion: Jesus’ final entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, his trial, crucifixion, suffering on the cross, and death.

The Fourth Week
is based on the Gospel accounts of the Resurrection and, once again, God’s love for you.

Along the way, like mileposts, Ignatius includes specific meditations on ideas like humility, decision making, and choosing between good and evil.

Some classic works of spirituality are meant to be read contemplatively. The Spiritual Exercises are different. They are meant to be experienced, not read. Frankly, they read more like a tedious instruction manual than a moving treatise on prayer. For example: “After the preparatory prayer and the three preludes, it is profitable to use the imagination and to apply the five senses to the first and second contemplations, in the following manner.” Snooze.

In a sense, the Exercises are like a dance. If you want to learn how to dance, you can’t simply read a book on dancing; you have to dance! Or at least have someone help you to dance. What I’ll try to do in this book is offer some insights from the Exercises, that is, tell you a little about what happens in that dance. And encourage you to start dancing yourself.

When Jesuits think about the Exercises, they often think of a particular style of prayer that Ignatius often recommends: using your imagination as an aid to prayer, as a way of picturing yourself within specific stories from Scripture. So the Exercises are not only a program of prayer; they also embody a
way
of prayer. And a certain worldview. (More about all that later.)

Overall, the Spiritual Exercises are one of the main repositories for understanding the way of Ignatius: what leads to God, what elicits greater freedom, and what helps you live a purposeful life.

The
Constitutions

During his years in Rome, Ignatius spent much of his time writing the Jesuit
Constitutions,
the series of guidelines that governs Jesuit life—in the communities, in the various works we do, in the way that we relate to one another—almost every aspect of our lives. Ignatius worked on the
Constitutions
until his death and, as with the Spiritual Exercises, was always tinkering with it. It is another resource for understanding his distinctive spirituality.

Every religious order has something similar to the
Constitutions
. Usually it’s called a “rule,” as in the
Rule of St. Benedict,
which governs life in the Benedictine order. Each rule is a window into the underlying spirituality, or “charism,” of the religious order. You can learn a great deal about the Benedictines by reading their
Rule
. And you can learn a lot about Ignatian spirituality by reading the
Constitutions
. (Technically our “rule” also includes the original papal documents, issued by Pope Paul III and Pope Julius III, establishing the Jesuits.)

For the Jesuit, if the Exercises are about how to live your own life, the
Constitutions
are about how to live your life with others. The Exercises are about you and God; the
Constitutions,
at least for Jesuits, are about you, God, and your brother Jesuits.

Into the
Constitutions
Ignatius poured his ideas for the way that Jesuits should be trained, how they should live with one another, how they should work best together, what works they should undertake, how superiors should behave, how the sick should be cared for, and which men should be admitted to the order—in short, every facet of Jesuit life he could think of. Seeking guidance, he would pray fervently about anything before setting it down on paper.

In the process, he consulted with some of his original companions about the best course of action. So the
Constitutions
are a result of his own experience and prayer as well as the advice of trusted friends. Thus, they reflect an eminently sensible spirituality. André de Jaer, a Belgian Jesuit, says they embody “a spiritual realism, ever mindful of the concrete and practical.”

Here’s an example of that practicality: while the
Constitutions
lay out precise rules for life in Jesuit communities, Ignatius recognized the need for flexibility. After a lengthy description of what was required for community life, he would add a proviso, knowing that unforeseen circumstances always call for flexibility: “If something else is expedient for an individual,” he writes about Jesuits studying a particular academic course, “the superior will consider the matter with prudence and may grant an exemption.” Flexibility is a hallmark of this document.

Much in the
Constitutions
is concerned with the daily running of the order. But you’ll also find suggestions about living a simple lifestyle, making decisions, working toward a common goal with others, and relying on friends. So it is a great resource not only for Jesuits but for everyone interested in the Ignatian way.

L
ETTERS
, A
CTIVITIES
, S
AINTS
, L
IVING
R
ULES, AND
E
XPERTS

The
Autobiography,
the Spiritual Exercises, and the
Constitutions
are three of the main sources for Jesuit spirituality. But not the only three. Several other resources can help us understand the way of Ignatius.

The first is his vast series of
letters
. During his lifetime he wrote an astonishing 6,813 letters to a wide array of men and women. He was one of the most prolific letter writers of his age, writing more than Martin Luther and John Calvin combined, and more than Erasmus, one of the great letter writers of the time. Between managing a new religious order, opening schools at a breathtaking clip, receiving Vatican officials and European ambassadors, requesting permissions from church and state authorities, praying and celebrating Mass, as well as corresponding with men and women—Jesuit priests, sisters, lay men and women, members of royal families—around the world, Ignatius must have been one of the original multitaskers.

These were not e-mails written on the fly. Some of his letters are minor masterpieces of the genre, combining encouragement, advice, a little news, and heartfelt promises of support and love. Like many public figures of the sixteenth century, Ignatius saw letter writing as an art. And like many religious figures, he saw it as a ministry. He advised Jesuits in official positions, particularly missionaries, to write two letters in tandem: the first would offer information for public consumption, “edifying” stories for fellow Jesuits and the public. The second would contain more personal news; these he referred to by the Spanish word
hijuela,
or “little daughter.” In those letters, “one might write hurriedly out of abundance of the heart.”