A-Z Challenge Day 9 - Ignatian Spiritual Exercises

 Within the Exercises, daily instructions include various meditations and contemplations on the nature of the world, of human psychology as Ignatius understood it, and of man's relationship to God through Jesus Christ. The Exercises are divided into four "weeks" of varying lengths with four major themes: sin, the life of Jesus, the Passion of Jesus, and the Resurrection of Jesus. the "weeks" represent stages in a process of wholehearted commitment to the service of God. During each day of the Exercises, a typical retreatant prays with a particular exercise, as assigned by the director, reviews each prayer, and, following four or five periods of prayer, reports back to the spiritual director of the retreat who helps them to understand what these experiences of prayer might mean to the retreatant. The goal of the Exercises is to reflect upon their experiences and to understand how these same experiences might apply to the retreatant's life. - Wikipedia

I mentioned on Day One of the Challenge that I'd spent more than a month away on retreat last autumn, at St Buenos Jesuit Retreat Centre in North Wales, making the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, that set of prayers and meditations set out by St Ignatius of Loyola as a means of helping you live and reassess your relationship with Christ and your calling to follow him in the world.  At risk of sounding like something out of Sesame Street, today's blog entry is brought to you by the letter I. In the past few years, two of the most formative experiences on my journey have begun with the same letter: I've written elsewhere on various blogs about Mr GP and my trip to Iona, and here I was, less than five years later, living, or attempting to live what if you'd suggested it to me  even then, I'd have never imagined myself doing in a thousand years, at least not in its full form, (I blame an extended mid-life crisis!) Or maybe, more positively, it really has been a case of When I'm calling youuuuuu!!!! I remember some of my early vocational meanderings, and, looking back now, even I can see that I've moved on since the days of my Vocational Self-Assembly Pack.

Since I got back, I've been unpacking, or trying to unpack, what was going on for me. I'm well used to silent retreats, but even so, this had such  a different dynamic to it from anything I've experienced previously.  I've noticed since that although on the web there's a proliferation of material on the Exercises, very few people appear to have written about their journey . Which in some ways, is quite right. It's an intensely personal  experience in many ways. Wittgenstein's "Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent."comes to mind. (Though probably not with the philosopher's intended meaning!)  So often on retreat,   I really have to restrain my urge to define, analyze and summarise my spiritual journey into neat soundbites, thus killing it stone dead in the attempt.  My inner 'Martha,' if you like, my urge to 'doing' at the expense of my 'doing.' Not to mention my  ability to focus on  the  moment; I'm an expert on the 'if onlys' and the 'what ifs?' at the expense of   the present.

People decide they wish to make  the Exercises, as to other retreats for many and differing reasons: it could be a time of intense change, of vocational exploration, an important decision that needs to be made. When it came to the point, I'd  already made mine prior to going into the retreat: that, sadly, my time as a Franciscan tertiary had run its course. The time apart simply affirmed this. Not that all was plain sailing - we'd  been warned beforehand of how tiring - physically, spiritually and psychologically the best part of five weeks intense prayer  can be, and that was no exaggeration. I struggled with much, learned much about myself, good and not so good, but I can say I came out knowing myself....just a little better. Everybody's experience  is different, as I said. I'll continue to reflect and pray out of my memory of those days for years to come  As far as I was concerned, there were no fireworks (well, relatively few!), no messages from the Almighty written large in the sky, (although my most memorable moments were spent sitting looking out over  the valley at sunrises and sunsets). The messages I received were gentler, quieter, simple affirmation of the rightness of me, as myself and of the place where I am  and what I'm doing. That'll do me for now.

A-Z Challenge Day 1 - Anima Christi

We're off. Welcome to the first  of my personal A-Z Challenge posts  for 2016. What have we in our lucky dip today? Art journaling perhaps? anteater? anthropomorphism? Alice in Wonderland? 

Hard choice. Still, given that  those of us who are of a Christian persuasion are  currently in Holy Week, I plumped on the Anima Christi, (Soul of Christ), one of the key prayers used in the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises. The which is in part an explanation for my long long absence from the blogosphere. I made the full 'Exercises' in their residential form back last autumn at St Beunos Jesuit spirituality centre in North Wales, UK, and have been processing and unpacking my time there  ever since. It's a once in a lifetime experience for most of us; unless you happen to be a Jesuit, which I'm not! 

So to the Anima Christi. The version I've posted here is David Fleming SJ's popular paraphrase of the original ;  one  which I found spoke to me most. Our little group were each given a copy of Hearts on Fire and of all the prayers there, this one stood out and became a mainstay for me during my time in retreat. It is, after all, one that's often recommended you pray before a time of prayer, it's introduced early on during the First Week . It's a very trinitarian,  exemplifiying  the whole ethos and key movement of the exercises: to help the retreatant journey towards a  freedom of complete dependence and self-giving to Christ and to become His ambassador in the world. I'd love to say that by the time I returned home after more than a month of intense prayer and mediation that I was permanently in that place! But I'd be lying. And I'm sure that family, friends and everyone who has to deal with me on a day to day basis would agree!  Here it is, anyway.

Jesus, may all that is in you flow into me.

May your body and blood be my food and drink.

May your passion and death be my strength and life.

Jesus, with you by my side enough has been given.

May the shelter I seek be the shadow of your cross.

Let me not run from the love which you offer.

But hold me safe from the forces of evil.

On each of my dyings shed your light and your love.

Keep calling to me until that day comes.

When with our saints, I may praise you forever.

Amen

David Fleming, S.J.

Soul of Christ Prayer

Source:  Hearts on Fire: Praying With the Jesuits (pp. 3-4)

Good Friday

The Good Friday service and Kirsten's reflections on  Bach's St Matthew Passion have prompted  me to put  fingers to keyboard once more.  Anyone who has read my last year's A-Z Challenge will realise that one of the many works which has inspired me over the years is Faure's Requiem, in particular, the  Agnus Dei. 

It's been a strange few days for me, given that this is, metaphorically and spiritually speaking, the second Holy Week I've been through since last Easter. I suspect I'll elaborate more on this during the upcoming A-Z, but suffice it to say that I've not gone drifting off into some parallel universe during my long absence from blogging. No, it's because in late  2015, I made the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius, the full, 30 Day retreat, where of course the Passion, death and resurrection of our Lord feature largely. So Holy Week, for me and the other several dozen retreatants, was during the hinge of autumn and winter;  the end of October and the beginning of November, as the days began to shorten and all around us, the leaves were changing colour, falling and beginning to decay. 

Faure's Requiem became one of my mainstays during those days, whether hummed under my breath or listening to the CD down in the basement of the retreat centre, where the noise wouldn't disturb anyone else. I also spent much time out of doors, roaming the gloriously beautiful grounds or alternatively, working in the art centre.  I seem to sense God's presence in a far more sensate way nowadays than used to be the case when I was younger. Not surprising I guess, that this came so much to the fore during such an intense period of prayer and reflection. The Exercises are by way of being a marathon, in whichever form you make them: full residential or everyday life over a number of months. I did have a tendency to get too much 'into my head' to begin with, especially when encountering the sometimes quite structured way the suggested reflections  can appear at first. I've always been a one to panic when confronted with lists, heading, subheadings and Things In Brackets! So it took a while for me to acclimatise and realise that the maxim 'Pray as you can, not as you can't' really does ring true.

Getting back to the Agnus Dei, the photo above is of a wallhanging I made after praying through the Crucifixion. It's inspired by a favourite meditation by Alison  Swinfen of the Iona Community, taken  from the anthology Iona - Images and Reflections, (Wild Goose Publications). The words embroidered onto the host are a misquote (no books with me on retreat!) of her title: And so you love us back into the earth.  You can read  the whole text here. Scroll down to see the photo that comes with it.  I learned a lot about hopelessness, helplessness, perseverance  and waiting in the face of darkness and apparent nothingness during that 'Holy Week,' and it was images, prose, poetry and music that helped me to cling on .