I went to a seminar on Ignatian Spirituality this week. As I go in to such encounters, I often wonder who else might sign up for such a thing? What type of people might be there, on a week day, all day, to pray?
The heater was humming in the corner and the chairs were arranged in a circle large enough to accommodate about 30 people. I took my place off to the side of where the leader's chair was.
Sister Anne gave us a general idea of how the day would proceed and then asked us to introduce ourselves briefly and state why we had come. Some people understood the word briefly and some did not.
We began with an overview of Ignatius' life so as to better understand his spiritual journey and how his prayer practices developed. the morning continued with a meditation exercise and an opportunity to peel away and be on our own for a bit.
At lunch time, we had the option of eating quietly on our own or in conversation with others at round tables in the dining room. I chose to sit with a woman who appeared to have some substance and wisdom about her. A man I had met in another context joined us and then, finally, another woman who had spoken up in our morning session.
We enjoyed our soup, buttered our bread and commenced a communal lunch, engaging in conversation about spiritual direction and what we had been reading. Eager to hear a sense of God in each of my companions, I asked open ended questions and leaned in to listen.
Over time, though, it became apparent that the last occupant at our table was not a good listener. In fact, she monopolised the conversation, uhmming her way through the gaps in her own stream of consciousness so as to maintain her right to speak.
As people who desire to have generous hearts overflowing with grace, the other three of us attempted to both listen and build bridges for another person to join in. At times the woman seemed to simultaneously argue both sides of an issue. I got confused, not knowing when to agree or even what the point was!
Sensing that her social skills were not only stunted a bit, but that maybe she had a mental health issue, we responded both professionally & generously, but possibly aware that our lunchtime was not going to be the highlight of our retreat day.
Part of Ignatian spirituality is to examen yourself, your day, to see where you were aware of God in the midst of it all.
I sense that, in the midst of it all, God was frustrated, not because I was, but because this woman had been repeatedly frustrated by faith institutions and by people. Her journey had not been an easy one and was not likely to find resolution soon. We are surrounded by people like that; wounded pilgrims who know there's something better and, often quite desperately, seek to find it.
May she know the peace of God, the joy and hope of knowing Jesus is in her corner, the consolation of knowing the most important battles have been fought, and won.
The heater was humming in the corner and the chairs were arranged in a circle large enough to accommodate about 30 people. I took my place off to the side of where the leader's chair was.
Sister Anne gave us a general idea of how the day would proceed and then asked us to introduce ourselves briefly and state why we had come. Some people understood the word briefly and some did not.
We began with an overview of Ignatius' life so as to better understand his spiritual journey and how his prayer practices developed. the morning continued with a meditation exercise and an opportunity to peel away and be on our own for a bit.
At lunch time, we had the option of eating quietly on our own or in conversation with others at round tables in the dining room. I chose to sit with a woman who appeared to have some substance and wisdom about her. A man I had met in another context joined us and then, finally, another woman who had spoken up in our morning session.
We enjoyed our soup, buttered our bread and commenced a communal lunch, engaging in conversation about spiritual direction and what we had been reading. Eager to hear a sense of God in each of my companions, I asked open ended questions and leaned in to listen.
Over time, though, it became apparent that the last occupant at our table was not a good listener. In fact, she monopolised the conversation, uhmming her way through the gaps in her own stream of consciousness so as to maintain her right to speak.
As people who desire to have generous hearts overflowing with grace, the other three of us attempted to both listen and build bridges for another person to join in. At times the woman seemed to simultaneously argue both sides of an issue. I got confused, not knowing when to agree or even what the point was!
Sensing that her social skills were not only stunted a bit, but that maybe she had a mental health issue, we responded both professionally & generously, but possibly aware that our lunchtime was not going to be the highlight of our retreat day.
Part of Ignatian spirituality is to examen yourself, your day, to see where you were aware of God in the midst of it all.
I sense that, in the midst of it all, God was frustrated, not because I was, but because this woman had been repeatedly frustrated by faith institutions and by people. Her journey had not been an easy one and was not likely to find resolution soon. We are surrounded by people like that; wounded pilgrims who know there's something better and, often quite desperately, seek to find it.
May she know the peace of God, the joy and hope of knowing Jesus is in her corner, the consolation of knowing the most important battles have been fought, and won.
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