This Ignatian Life

I was talking to an evangelical Pastor I know last week. He commented to me; “I’m not sure I know much about Catholicism but I know that when it comes to sharing the gospel at the end of the day I don’t want it to be diluted.” This conversation is a form of a conversation that I’ve had over and over as a member of an ecumenical (primarily evangelical) community and having grown up in fundamental Bible-believing churches. The implication of Catholicism as diluting the Gospel took me so far aback that I was speechless for a full minute. I’ve heard that and worse before, but I guess I just haven’t had this conversation in a while, so it started me thinking.

Dilute. Gospel. What is the Gospel? Jesus. Apostle’s Creed. Life beyond death, fuller life on earth. Presence of God. Opposite of dilute- concentrate. Stronger, thicker, more real.

Today I was reading my All Saints: Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for our Timebook, October has St Ignatius’ feast day, Sep 10 – Mother Teresa, Oct 1- Teresa of Avila. These are people that compose the great crowd of witnesses that Paul talked about in Acts. These people are my friends in the way that their lives have guided me, and continue to guide me towards Christ. Something about learning their lives for me is like seeing a pixelated picture of the Gospel become clearer and more detailed. I have a bit of that feeling you get when after listening to a song on repeat 30 times you finally understand the lyrics. I honor the saints by emulating their lives and their relationship with Jesus, I am honored to have them to emulate.

Environmentalists say that emulating something is better than imitating it. Emulating is taking the spirit (or Spirit in this case) of something and integrating it into another thing. Emulating is more intuitive, more thoughtful than imitating. It requires discernment of things like place, time, season, purpose, condition.

I read in the Wikipedia page on Ignatius that he was inspired by St. Francis of Assisi, the adopted patron saint of my community- Word Made Flesh. Through his life he emulated Francis, though their spiritual paths were different, the same Spirit flowed through them and informed who they became. It’s neat to think about how by honoring Ignatius and emulating his life I’m also going deeper into the life of Francis. By going deeper into the life of Francis, I’m entering more fully into the life of Christ, and on and on.

I am drawn to Ignatian spirituality because it seems to be a thoughtful way of emulating the Gospel. It seems to be about discerning the Spirit, being aware of your place, time, season, and living the life of a saint where you are located. It concentrates the Gospel by placing you within it and giving you the ability to live more fully and in detailed colors.

Photo: “Warren – St. Teresa of Avila (St. Dorothy)” by “Patricia Drury” from Flickr (Used under Creative Commons license)

I had a small revelation about Mary at the Annunciation during this year’s 8-day Spiritual Exercises. Maybe because we’re used to emphasizing her tender age when she became pregnant with Jesus, not to mention her innocence, I had always seen Mary as basically naïve. I had understood her inner movements around the Annunciation and Visitation more or less like this: first (when the angel shows up) she’s scared, then (when he explains what’s happening) she asks an obvious question, then she accepts, then she goes and serves (her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant in old age).

In contemplating the Incarnation on my retreat, though, I discovered a different Mary, one much more akin to the young women in my neighborhood. Her fear and surprise at the angel’s greeting can also be read as a discerning suspicion – she doesn’t respond to his sweet talk until she is certain that the intentions are good. And even after closing the deal, she seeks confirmation – note that Mary sings the victorious Magnificat only after seeing that her cousin Elizabeth is indeed pregnant, as the angelic messenger had told her. This Mary is just as innocent – indeed, Immaculate – and as good as she was before in my imagination, but now she is not at all naive. Rather, this young woman is an expert in “Second Week” discernment, who cooperates with the Holy Spirit insofar as she is sure that she’s dealing with that spirit and not some impostor.

This takes away none of her humility, availability, or commitment – on the contrary, it only strengthens it. Surely, this is the Mary who later taught her son to be “as simple as a dove, but as clever as a serpent.” This is the Mary who “kept these things in her heart,” prudently keeping her mouth shut much of the time. Perhaps the image that best captures this attitude is Our Lady of the Way (NS della Strada), i.e., Our Lady of the Street – an image in which both Mary and the baby Jesus, with poker faces, seem to be staring at the viewer, waiting to see what the viewer will do or say before changing their expression or responding.

Is it mere coincidence that this image became so central in the life of St. Ignatius, that master of discernment who teaches us to be suspicious of the evil spirit disguised as the angel of light? (Incidentally, it’s certainly no coincidence that this facet of Our Lady of the Way was brought to my attention by a Jesuit friend who is very much a New Yorker.) Seeing Mary as a street-smart – and still absolutely innocent and tremendously loving – young woman “brings her home” for me, and makes her much more interesting.  I can see her reflected more easily now, for example, in the young women in our parish’s youth group. And this Mary, I think, has a lot to teach us.