Yesterday, July 31, was the Feast Day of St. Ignatius Loyola. Because it fell on a Sunday this year, the feast day was not celebrated by the Universal Church. (Sunday as “The Lord’s Day” always takes precedence over any memorial of a saint.) Yesterday also marked the end of the Ignatian Year (May 20, 2021 – July 31, 2022) which celebrated the five hundredth anniversary of the “cannonball shot heard around the world” and the rudimentary stirrings of Grace that resulted in the founding of the Society of Jesus. So, today’s reflection focuses on these “rudimentary stirrings” of Grace in the life of Ignatius and in our own individual lives as well.
Almost any saint we celebrate provides occasion for thinking about suffering and other painful disruptions in the course of our earthly lives. St. Ignatius Loyola, the well-known and influential founder of the Society of Jesus, probably serves as well or better than any other. From all we see in the gospels, it is apparent that Jesus spent a good part of His public ministry showing compassionate care and attention to those who were suffering. So there should be no question here that the mystery of human suffering has the potential to draw forth from us a deeper response of faith, hope and ultimately love.
Ignatius’ early life was spent as was expected of a man of nobility (somewhat “minor nobility” though it may be) making a name for himself in matters of swordplay and war. In the course of a battle with the French forces at Pamplona, one of his legs was shattered by a cannonball and reset a couple of times, at least once to satisfy his concern about how he would look. While convalescing he asked for novels of war and romance but was given instead the Lives of the Saints and a Life of Christ. Through his prayerful reading he came to admire such people as Sts. Francis and Dominic. His earlier zest for warfare and chivalry was replaced by a passion to serve Christ like them.
What happened in and to Ignatius is matched in the lives of many saints and in our lives as well – all of us friends of God. It happens because of some unasked-for and most likely repugnant experience – a serious illness, a bereavement, great failure in a relationship, a struggle with boredom, or an unavoidable and painful work / ministry position or accident of whatever kind.
Something like this, if it finds us open to acknowledging deep within our hearts a purpose for this suffering, can be life-changing. It can bring to light capacities in us that we would never have imagined and / or sought. Such crosses can be the ones that deepen our character and relationship with the Living God. They may energize the stagnant course of our lives. As we celebrate the Eucharist, the memorial of the saving suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus, let us pray that from our own crushing disappointments and painful experiences, we may discover new energy, enlivening purpose and a gratitude for the treasure we hold in the earthen vessels of our humanity.