Points for Reflection Fr. James Hanvey SJ

Opening to The Word of God

All the readings presented to us have much that is worth dwelling with and in. Every time we come to scripture we do not simply come to a text, we come first to a person: the person of Christ and then a community of faith, the Church. Although the texts will vary, speaking in many different voices and genres, there us a inherent unity. They are God’s Word addressed to us. With most texts we study them and analyse them, we can do this with scripture too, but if this all we do, then we have misunderstood them. Beyond all our attention to form and detail, the Word of God speaks to us, invites us into a relationship. It is not one in which we are in control. We do not master the Word of God or the person of Christ, we receive. We must open ourselves and trust; let the Word open a new world to us, a new way of seeing, thinking, being and doing.  When we can do this then we know truly, “the words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life.” (Jn.6:63)

Praying the Sunday Texts

The readings come from different sources and periods but they have two uniting themes: 1: The Freedom and the Constancy of God in his desire to heal us and bring us into the fullness of life with him and in his service. 2: Our need of his healing and our freedom to live confidently in its gift.

For our prayer, a few questions might help us. When we ponder the readings, what do we begin to see of God’s own nature, especially as shown by Jesus? What is there about our own past or history that still weighs us down?  What is the ‘new deed’ that God needs to do for me? In the case of the paralysed man, he needed others to bring him to Jesus.  Who is bringing me? Who do I wish to bring? Can I see in these friends an image of the Church or a Christian community? The scribes presented obstacles and objections to Christ’s demonstration of the Father’s love and its power. They let these get in the way of compassion  “ happy the one who considers the poor and the weak….” But Christ is not bound by them – they are the ones who are strangely paralysed. How can this help me?  The psalm, like the reading from 2 Corinthians, celebrates the constancy of God’s grace and love. For Corinthians, that is now absolute and certain in the person of Jesus. We too have that faith and knowledge of him ‘alive in our hearts’ by the gift of the Holy Spirit.  Take time to give thanks for the gift of the Spirit in your life. How would you like to live more completely and joyfully that ‘Yes’ that God has said to you.

At work last week I was observed and assessed as part of performance management in my job as a teacher. I was having a challenging week and the day before I began to seriously doubt whether I could successfully get through it. As I was considering whether to ask if it could be postponed, the woman who was to do the observation came to discuss another matter with me. I came very close to asking. When she left I realised that God had clearly been telling me not to, assuring me that even though it seemed a tough task, that the dots would lead to peace, not disaster. (Jeremiah 29:11). Indeed they did. Despite having a heavy workload of her own, a very dear colleague turned her energy to me and stayed for 3 hours to help me prepare. We have been praying together in a quiet room we recently discovered was free, so that evening the first thing we did was to pray for God’s wisdom and strength. From there, we began to discuss ideas and eventually formed a plan. At several points she warned me of the danger of thinking too much about each detail or of changing my mind about things we had decided on, that those things were not from God. Instead she reminded me of our prayer, and that now we had to trust that God was providing exactly what we needed.

On the day of the observation I received the grace of courage and an inner peace and calm that could only have come from God. There was such power in that peace, I felt released to be who I was created to be, trusting that God is in charge. I heard someone recently describe faith as believing that even when you are in a situation you do not like, no matter how stuck you feel or how long you have been in it, God can transform it. In her book “Inner Compass (1999)”, Margaret Silf invites us to trust that God’s Spirit will hover over the mess, bringing wholeness out of brokenness, as once that same Spirit brought creation out of chaos.

Even after experiencing and witnessing the fruits of faith, both in my life and the lives of others, I can quickly find myself fearful and doubting. “I know you were there then God, in an amazing way, but what about next time?” Or, in the next step I can find myself walking back down paths I have painfully learned many times lead me away from God. But I have come to understand that at such times, God does not want us to be consumed with guilt, as that takes us further away from Him. The gift of forgiveness is always there, if we can but first forgive ourselves. I am greatly encouraged by the fact that despite living alongside him, hearing his teachings and witnessing his miracles first hand, Jesus’ own disciples repeatedly struggled to believe what was before their very eyes. Jesus knows our human nature. He does not give up on us and certainly does not want us to give up on ourselves. The Spirit repeats over and over, in as many ways as necessary, the call to have faith in the power of God. Though we cannot connect the dots looking forward, we can pray for the will to surrender all in ever deepening trust that we are being led in our mission to serve God and be a light in the world.

Points for Reflection Fr. Rampe Hlobo SJ
1. We are all called!
It is clear from the first reading that all of us are called. The question is not whether do I hear the call or not but whether do I reflect on and pray about this call. Through baptism we have all being called to holiness. This is our primary vocation as Christians. How am I living this call?
2. Privatisation of the good news and of our spiritual experiences is not Christian:
On hearing the good news and experiencing the good news, we are called to share them with others. Especially those who have not received them. We are to, not only to bear witness but to also help others experience the good news and point them towards Christ.
3. Prayer is the cornerstone of our Christian vocation:
The need to be constantly praying, nourishing and strengthening our relationship with God cannot be overemphasised. The stronger the relationship with God the better the fruits of our efforts in living our vocation.

One of the reasons De Mello offers as to why we get unhappy, frustrated and angry is that we identify too much with the self, or we identify too much with the “I”. I never really understood what this meant until recently, when a friend described it to me as realising that all our good deeds and good work come from the Holy Spirit working through us, and not by us alone making great things happen. My friend’s statement made me appreciate how all of the good things I do in life are because of the graces God has bestowed on me, all the gifts He has given me, and the ways in which He answers my prayers by working through me and with me. As Jesus says to the crowd in John’s Gospel, “it was not Moses who gave you bread from heaven, it was my Father.”

Reflecting on my friend’s words made me think how much of my joy comes from believing that any good presentations I do at work, any good goals I score on the football field, any advice I give in voluntary work (to take but a few examples from everyday life), all comes from me, and my ability and my skills and intelligence. I identify with this, and get a real kick out of it. By the same token, so much of my worry comes from not thinking I will be good enough at work and will make mistakes, so much of my frustration comes with my inability to learn something quick enough. I identify with this, believe that I am not good enough, and it makes me down and worried. Along these lines, life becomes a rollercoaster of emotions, from low to high, from sad to happy.

In reality, however, God’s Spirit is at work in the different things I do in my daily life. As Jesus says in Mark’s Gospel when telling his followers that they will be arrested and judged: “…don’t worry about what you should say. Say the things God gives you to say at that time. It will not really be you speaking. It will be the Holy Spirit speaking”. God works through me, and He has his own plan for me, regardless of how I identify with my own successes and failures. God is, as Isaiah says, the one who formed us in the womb and called us by our names.

When I heard my friend talk about how it was the Sprit moving in us which allows us to do great things, I felt a sense of relief. I felt it took the pressure off me to perform at work, in the things I do, with friends, and get things rights all the time, since I know it is not all down to me, but God working in me. My task is to turn my heart to God and ask and allow for the Spirit to work through me.

Anthony De Mello sadly died at the age of 57. His unique spirituality has helped many approach God more easily. The following excerpt is taken from what is said to be his last sermon, and for me, perfectly encapsulates how we need not worry about getting everything right, or identifying with our successes and failures, since God’s Spirit is at work through us and in us, and the God who has a plan for us is in all things -

“Don’t change: Desire to change is the enemy of love
Don’t change yourselves: Love yourselves as you are
Don’t change others: Love all others as they are
Don’t change the world: It is in God’s hands and he knows
And if you do that change will occur
Marvellously in its own way and in its own time
Yield to the current of life unencumbered by baggage.”

The above reflection was written by a young adult who comes to First and Third Sunday masses.

Some parts of Magis can be described: the experience itself was divided into two stages. The first was the gathering weekend, where 3,000 pilgrims arrived in Loyola for a 3-day Jesuit festival. It looked a little like a Catholic ‘Glastonbury’, in 30-degree sunshine. We were fed; we were clothed (with bespoke hoodies, t-shirts and caps produced by Zara). We played, and we prayed. Music festivals ran until late into the night. We slept together in classrooms, or, in the case of some 100+ girls, side-by-side in the school gym (the biggest slumber party I have ever attended). On the final day, Jesuit Superior Adolfo Nicolas celebrated Mass for us. It ended with The Killers’ song, ‘Human’, to which the pilgrims enthusiastically partook in a specifically choreographed Magis dance, which we had learned over the previous days. It was enormous fun. The weekend encapsulated the triad of belonging, behaving and believing that one member of our group used to sum up religious experience.

The second stage was the apostolic experience. There were 99 experiences, divided into 6 categories – Social Service, Arts and Performance, Spirituality, Faith/Culture, Ecology and Pilgrimage. We listed the categories in order of preference before arriving and knew precious little about the experience, except the title, which we received in the weeks beforehand. Having prioritised spirituality, I was delighted to learn that my experience would be that of Interreligious Dialogue.

This took place in Manresa, on the site where St Ignatius had lived as a hermit. His experience during this time formed the basis of his spiritual exercises. The rather more comfortable Jesuit spirituality centre has since been built around the cave where he lived. This was our home for the week. Six members of the UK group, and 20 other Magis pilgrims from Romania, Syria, Belarus and Lebanon spent the week meditating on how to relate spiritually to those following other religions. Despite language barriers, together we considered the Aboriginal Traditions, Jainism, Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Islam and other denominations of Christianity. We concentrated on the essence of each religion, and explored this using the music, symbols and texts of the relevant faith. At first, I found it difficult to use the writings of other cultures in my own (Catholic) prayer. There seemed to be a fine balance between finding God in all things, including, for example, the Torah, and being so inclusive that one felt open to a conversion to Judaism. Gradually, I discerned that the opposite occurs. It is by being open to finding God in all things that ones own faith grows. By detaching ourselves from the vehicles through which God reveals himself, God becomes easier to find.

It was while we were in Manresa that the London riots occurred. Following our experience of fellowship in Loyola and Manresa, which we would discover again in Madrid, I wondered how so many young people could gather together, so joyfully and with such love for each other in Spain, and another group of a similar age, could behave so differently in England. While I don’t have an answer, I was struck by the sense of identity and belonging that was offered by the Magis experience. Being in Loyola and Manresa rooted us in our faith. This was a physical experience, as these sites are important to those who follow Ignatian Spirituality; it was also a psychological one, as it was profoundly grounding to be surrounded by so many young Catholics. We share the same beliefs, and the same behaviour. Despite linguistic, social and cultural differences, we belonged together. In addition, it was clear that a huge amount of work had been involved in hosting us, and in the planning and staging of the events. Everyone from the Jesuits, to the volunteers and not least by our own team at based at Farm Street had worked tirelessly to ensure that everything ran smoothly. We felt valued as young people, and it was clear that we were special. How many of the rioters could say that they also experienced a sense of having a valued place in the eyes of society and/or God?

Our days in Manresa were highly structured. They began with a form of Tai Chi at 8am (though a few of us keen beans went early-morning running from 6.30am), and were punctuated by prayer, ‘magis circles’ (in which we shared our reflections with others, in style similar to a CLC meeting where one listens without comment to what is being said) and daily Mass until the final examen at 11.30pm. Although not part of the schedule, many of us took the next hour or so to bond with our room-mates. I already miss praying frequently with others and am beginning to wonder if bedtime prayer via Skype might be feasible. Another significant aspect of our stay in Manresa was vegetarianism. Father Xavier, the priest leading the experience, extolled the virtues of a meat-free diet in relation to prayer, and I did notice a difference in terms of feeling spiritually lighter. A number of us have tried to remain pescatarian since returning home. Whether or not this is a long-term change, it has increased my awareness of the level of animal products in my diet, and has prompted me to seek out more information on the impact of over-consumption of meat on the environment.

Having returned from what was probably the most transformative fortnight of my life, I now understand why the effect of Magis – the part everyone had raved about and the reason for going – is difficult to describe. At its heart, it is an intensely, intimately personal experience of God. As such, such an experience is only ever going to be your own. In his book ‘Why Go To Church?’, Timothy Radcliff explains that the reason for going to Mass is to be sent from it. In the same sense, the reason for going to Magis is to equip you with the tools to be magis (‘better’/'greater’/'more’) for God. Ironically, it is the journey you make post-Magis that is the pilgrimage. It is impossible for me to impart the enormity of what this may mean for you – you will have to go to Rio in 2013 to discover it yourself.

Meanwhile the Church, in two weeks time, appropriately and purposefully, ends her liturgical year with the feast of Christ the King. All the Sunday readings of the five or six weeks leading up to that date increasingly prepare us for it, as a crescendo movement runs through these passages from Luke‘s Gospel. Their literary style moves from simple parable stories to accounts of actual meetings of Jesus to a full-fledged doomsday prophecy. Content-wise, the situation moves from secular to religious settings, dealing with an ever increasing number of people, until all are involved, when the world as they know it is predicted to come to an end. And that upsweep serves a very clear purpose; it deliberately wants to uproot people‘s thoughts and perceptions from their everyday life and socio-political reality. For the Kingdom that Jesus preaches “is not from this world” (John 18:36). Pilate didn‘t get it then, and we still have a very hard time understanding and accepting this.

That Kingdom, already, but not yet fully, present in this world, will eventually reach its fulfilment at the end, when time will cease to exist. At that moment women and men will no longer be subject to the natural and human laws and there will be no injustice and death anymore. However, in order to see and hear this Kingdom, Jesus says, we have to convert; we have to change our perspectives. We have to look and listen to him, for he doesn’t just know the way, he is the way. And it is only when we understand this that we will see God, in Christ, and will we be able to make the Kingdom come true. That invitation still stands, as it has since the beginnings of the Church, for us, here and now. To be able to recognise Jesus Christ as the eternal and universal King, we have to let go of our understanding of how the world and human societies work and should work, and listen to him instead. Then we can truly leave at the end of Mass and bring his peace by loving and serving our Lord.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Bart is a Jesuit of the Netherlands province, studying at Heythrop Collegetowards his ordination to the priesthood next year. He lives in a Jesuit community in Sth.London

Sister Anouska made some significant choices for the Vow-Mass liturgy today which, of course, celebrates and affirms her most significant choice, and the choice that her order, the Faithful Companions of Jesus, makes towards her today. The first choice was printed on the invitation, citing the phrase of Saint Ignatius from his Spiritual Exercises; “we are created topraise, reverence and serve God our Lord”. That progressive trinity of attitudes and actions: praise, leading to reverence, leading to wholehearted service; is a description of religious life, indeed of the Christian life. It parallels another Ignatian trinity, so to speak – that wonderful progressive dynamic so beloved of Ignatius, of “know-love-serve”, a faith-statement that knowledge of God our Lord inevitably leads to love of God, and that the knowledge that leads to love will just as inevitably lead to a desire for service; service of God, in and through the people of God. Know-love-serve; praise-reverence-service, the invitation is always to grow more deeply into the reality of God to which the response is always one ofservice, the Magis, asking “what more can I do? What greater service can I render?”

“Now, it happened one day by the lakeside …”; the beginning of Luke‘s Gospel story of the call of two disciples, which Anouska chose for the gospel reading. Jesus was teaching an eager crowd drawn perhaps by curiosity at first, maybe a first-century version of celebrity culture. But Jesus, who was of course the best and most celebrated spiritual director that the world has ever seen, knew that people would come to see themselves as drawn by their deeper desires. Jesus then focussed on two people in particular, who were fishing, but not very well, it seems. Luke‘s gospel suggests that that Jesus had no prior knowledge of these guys yet he sensed something about them; or maybe he just simply thought that the qualities that a half-decent fisher man needs are much the same as he wanted in his team; diligence, perseverance and cheerfulness. In Saint Peter‘s case there was a sudden, instant realisation of unworthiness to which the Lord responded with a vision of a much larger reality, a much broader horizon, a ministry of infinite import. Luke in his gospel loves to present that characteristic theme of “small beginnings, great conclusions”. Saint Peter, at the moment of his first calling, saw only the smallness but his newly-appointed spiritual director, Jesus of Nazareth, began at that moment to get him to see the great conclusions that were now possible.

Saint Peter was being encouraged to dream a great dream; to develop, in another phrase of Ignatius, great desires. We are still in the midst of the ongoing renewal of religious life that recognises the changed social contexts of modern life, the ability to speak prophetically to this new context yet maintaining an authentic renewal of the original charisms of all of our religious communities. Yet it must also always be lived in the context of the dream, the eternal horizon, sub specie aeternitatis. The contemporary writer Colm Toibin tells how “this space I walk in now has been my dream space, the mild sound of the wind on days like this has been my dream sound”. Let us pray in the Vow-Mass today that Sister Anouska‘s renewal of religious vows will lead many to that dream-space, to feel that mild wind at our backs, whichis that knowledge, love and service of God our Lord, that dream that God so longs to share with all of us.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Fr.Dave’s a Jesuit member of our FSPlus Team. He works also in UniversityChaplaincy at Heythrop, in vocations promotion and in spiritual direction. He is a founder-memberof CYMFed and lives in a Jesuit community in Clapham, S.London

St. Ignatius in the Principle and Foundation of his Spiritual Exercises prescribes the spirit of “indifference” as a way forward. Ignatius states: “[The other] things on the face of the earth are created for the human beings, to help them in pursuit of the end for which they are created.” He continues: “To attain this it is necessary to make ourselves indifferent to all created things.” It seems to me that the suggestion here is to recognize everything around us as a gift. Our family, our friends, our work, our possessions, our beautiful countries, etc., are nothing but gifts given to us generously by God. To be indifferent in this context would involve recognising everything as gift, but without inordinate attachment.

Following from the advice of St. Ignatius, we could be on guard not to be carried away by all these gifts to the extent of missing out in using them appropriately as means to draw closer to God. We should not allow ourselves become slaves to these gifts by becoming possessed by our possessions and controlled by them. Rather, through the appropriate use of these gifts we may come to find God and love him ardently. Being indifferent is neither to abstain from using material goods nor not caring about them but rather to discover in them, a God who labours daily for our well being. Perhaps through this discovery, our whole life might become an unpunctuated and undistracted fellowship with God whom we encounter in the use of material gifts.

In other words, by being awaken to the reality of God who manifests God-self to us indifferent gifts of life we may become Christians who live a life of contemplation. To cite an Ignatian term, we use the phrase “Contemplation in action” to describe a constant awareness of a loving and labouring God encountered in the gifts of life. Through thisprofound approach to the use of material things we may perhaps not be distracted like the rich young man in today’s gospel who fails to see God in his gifts, in his labours and achievements, and consequently fails in employing same gifts, labours and achievements to advance his life in God.

Turning around, I realised that I am not the only “being” on earth. I could see things –people, sunlight, the moonlight, food, trees, water, mountains, etc. It is obvious that all these created things are signs of God’s generosity and they are signs pointing towards that end for which God creates us daily – the end of a complete union with God. They stand as reminders to us, reminding us of our pilgrimage into deeper intimacy with God. How then are we to respond? Our best response is to be generous in return towards each other as we recognise that God has always been our refuge, from one generation to the next.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Ujah’s a Jesuit scholastic (i.e., in studies for priestly ordination) who hasbeen living & studying in London. During this year he’s been a valued member of our FS Plus Team.