During my recent sabbatical, I had the opportunity to undertake the 30-day Spiritual Exercises developed by St Ignatius of Loyola back in the sixteenth century. I chose St Beuno’s Jesuit Spirituality Centre in north Wales – not only because I’m part Welsh, but also because one of my favourite poets, Gerard Manley Hopkins, penned some of his most famous poems at St Beuno’s, where he lived for three years (1874-1877).
In retrospect, I didn’t fully know what I was signing up for. I had some introduction to Ignatian spirituality through Spiritual Growth Ministries when I did their spiritual directors formation programme a few years ago.
I was in the hands of some very disciplined Jesuits! The word “exercises” is intentional, and my 30 days at St Beuno's was nothing if not rigorous. I’ve never “worked” harder, spiritually speaking.
The first adjustment was the silence. I’m an introvert, and the thought of 30 days of silence, except for daily hour-long conversations with my spiritual director, didn’t phase me. The reality is something altogether different. I found myself intensely curious about the other retreatants but was unable to converse, even during meals. I found that frustrating at first. However, with time, I “sank” into the silence and it felt delicious. No phone ringing, no pings, just the bird song all around. It’s amazing, and disturbing, what comes to the surface when other distractions are removed.
The next adjustment was the exercises themselves. Every day, I could expect at least four discrete hour-long prayer periods. Ignatian spirituality encourages entering into the Scriptures imaginatively, engaging all one’s senses in the process. As I entered some Bible stories, I discovered what I can only describe as a “holy discontent”. At the same time, though, I felt an increased freedom to acknowledge that fact to God in prayer. The surprising thing is that I sensed God saying back: Let’s imagine another ending to the story. How else could this have turned out? For me, that’s where I find the most fruit in my prayer times: when I can bring my doubts, questions, and objections to God. God can handle my holy discontent. What’s more, he invites it. That fire within is a sign that I’m alive, feisty, and ready to wrestle with God.
St Ignatius was famous for his “fourteen rules for the discernment of spirits”. While convalescing from a wound in battle, Ignatius observed that he was pulled in two different directions, by two different spirits. Part of him was drawn to the life of Christ, and part of him was drawn to the life of chivalry, with dreams of worldly glory and courtly love. Based on this experience of paying close attention to the inner movements of his spirit, he developed some guidelines for discerning whether the good or the evil spirit is at work as we consider a course of action.
I found one of the rules, in particular, very practical and helpful. Ignatius used the image of a rock and a sponge to talk about the good and evil spirits.
In those who are making progress in the spiritual life, from good to better, the good angel touches the soul gently, tenderly, and sweetly, as a drop of water entering a sponge, but the evil spirit touches it sharply, with noise and agitation, like a drop of water hitting upon a rock.
Time and time again, my spiritual director returned to this image of the rock and the sponge to help me discern the way God was trying to influence me for the good.
Something I really appreciate about Ignatian spirituality is the insistence that “Christ is in all things”.
I think this is what I’ve always appreciated in Hopkins’ poetry. He has a way of dissolving the boundaries between sacred and secular as he gives praise to God for things like “roundy wells” and “finches wings” and “skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow”. Walking some of the paths that Hopkins walked, with his poems in mind and heart, I was able to see that I was on holy ground, everywhere and anywhere.
At the end of the retreat, we were sent away with this poem by Teilhard de Chardin. In some ways, it encapsulated the month-long journey in the north of Wales. I pass it on to you as a benediction.
Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
We have invited these writers to share their experiences, ideas and opinions in the hope that these will provoke thought, challenge you to go deeper and inspire you to put your faith into action. These articles should not be taken as the official view of the Nelson Diocese on any particular matter.
During my recent sabbatical, I had the opportunity to undertake the 30-day Spiritual Exercises developed by St Ignatius of Loyola back in the sixteenth century. I chose St Beuno’s Jesuit Spirituality Centre in north Wales – not only because I’m part Welsh, but also because one of my favourite poets, Gerard Manley Hopkins, penned some of his most famous poems at St Beuno’s, where he lived for three years (1874-1877).
In retrospect, I didn’t fully know what I was signing up for. I had some introduction to Ignatian spirituality through Spiritual Growth Ministries when I did their spiritual directors formation programme a few years ago.
I was in the hands of some very disciplined Jesuits! The word “exercises” is intentional, and my 30 days at St Beuno's was nothing if not rigorous. I’ve never “worked” harder, spiritually speaking.
The first adjustment was the silence. I’m an introvert, and the thought of 30 days of silence, except for daily hour-long conversations with my spiritual director, didn’t phase me. The reality is something altogether different. I found myself intensely curious about the other retreatants but was unable to converse, even during meals. I found that frustrating at first. However, with time, I “sank” into the silence and it felt delicious. No phone ringing, no pings, just the bird song all around. It’s amazing, and disturbing, what comes to the surface when other distractions are removed.
The next adjustment was the exercises themselves. Every day, I could expect at least four discrete hour-long prayer periods. Ignatian spirituality encourages entering into the Scriptures imaginatively, engaging all one’s senses in the process. As I entered some Bible stories, I discovered what I can only describe as a “holy discontent”. At the same time, though, I felt an increased freedom to acknowledge that fact to God in prayer. The surprising thing is that I sensed God saying back: Let’s imagine another ending to the story. How else could this have turned out? For me, that’s where I find the most fruit in my prayer times: when I can bring my doubts, questions, and objections to God. God can handle my holy discontent. What’s more, he invites it. That fire within is a sign that I’m alive, feisty, and ready to wrestle with God.
St Ignatius was famous for his “fourteen rules for the discernment of spirits”. While convalescing from a wound in battle, Ignatius observed that he was pulled in two different directions, by two different spirits. Part of him was drawn to the life of Christ, and part of him was drawn to the life of chivalry, with dreams of worldly glory and courtly love. Based on this experience of paying close attention to the inner movements of his spirit, he developed some guidelines for discerning whether the good or the evil spirit is at work as we consider a course of action.
I found one of the rules, in particular, very practical and helpful. Ignatius used the image of a rock and a sponge to talk about the good and evil spirits.
In those who are making progress in the spiritual life, from good to better, the good angel touches the soul gently, tenderly, and sweetly, as a drop of water entering a sponge, but the evil spirit touches it sharply, with noise and agitation, like a drop of water hitting upon a rock.
Time and time again, my spiritual director returned to this image of the rock and the sponge to help me discern the way God was trying to influence me for the good.
Something I really appreciate about Ignatian spirituality is the insistence that “Christ is in all things”.
I think this is what I’ve always appreciated in Hopkins’ poetry. He has a way of dissolving the boundaries between sacred and secular as he gives praise to God for things like “roundy wells” and “finches wings” and “skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow”. Walking some of the paths that Hopkins walked, with his poems in mind and heart, I was able to see that I was on holy ground, everywhere and anywhere.
At the end of the retreat, we were sent away with this poem by Teilhard de Chardin. In some ways, it encapsulated the month-long journey in the north of Wales. I pass it on to you as a benediction.
Above all, trust in the slow work of God.
We are quite naturally impatient in everything to reach the end without delay.
We should like to skip the intermediate stages.
We are impatient of being on the way to something unknown, something new.
And yet it is the law of all progress
that it is made by passing through some stages of instability—
and that it may take a very long time.
And so I think it is with you;
your ideas mature gradually—let them grow,
let them shape themselves, without undue haste.
Don’t try to force them on,
as though you could be today what time
(that is to say, grace and circumstances acting on your own good will)
will make of you tomorrow.
Only God could say what this new spirit
gradually forming within you will be.
Give Our Lord the benefit of believing
that his hand is leading you,
and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself
in suspense and incomplete.
Check out other articles in the
series below.
More articles in the
series are to come.
