PRAYER THAT WORKS

“Prayer that works is prayer that makes a difference, contemplation that turns into action, on behalf of peace and justice in a troubled and unjust world system. Prayer is energy, the energy of love and transformative power. It is given to us to use for the good of all creation. In prayer God gives us the fuel of life, and asks us to live it.” - Margaret Silf

I have had the distinct privilege to meet and hear Margaret Silf in person.  Here in my little town of Auburn CA, at my home parish of St. Teresa of Avila, she engaged several dozen captivated participants on a 2-night journey of Ignation Spirituality and Prayer.

For me it wasn’t enough… when I heard of the Ignatian retreats which offer the oral tradition of Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercise my mind wandered to the possibility of a 30-day sojourn deeper into this wondrous journey of self-discovery to learn as a disciple only to do as an apostle, with Margaret and no doubt other contemplative guides by my side.  I will continue to follow her works and perhaps, someday, will make the time for that retreat.

For now, I consider the thought-provoking images Margaret so eloquently painted.  First, Ignatian spirituality has as its foundation a call to action:  “In prayer God gives us the fuel of life, and asks us to live it.”  To understand the foundational principles behind such a practical view of prayer’s transformative power, one must know a bit about the very complex person known as Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556). A Basque knight injured in battle and forced during recovery into isolation, Inigo (his Basque name) underwent a spiritual conversion.  His energies turned away from the inward focus on ego and affectation to intense theological study, and he gathered followers with whom he founded the Society of Jesus (known today as the Jesuits) and developed the Spiritual Exercises, both of which received the papal approval of Pope Paul III.  His life’s work became the inward search for the way to inspire change in the outward world, leading to his beatification by Pope Paul V in 1609, canonization by Pope Gregory in 1622, and declaration as patron of all spiritual retreats by Pope Pius XI in 1922. 

Margaret’s artistry draws us into an empathetic relationship with this important historical figure.  He has in common with us an imperfect soul; yet he inspires us in his attainment of divine grace all the more perfect in his imperfection (“Light shines through the cracks not the solid parts.”)  Ignatius set forth the foundational principle that God, our Creator, is the center of our lives, that we must be mindful to allow Him to be so, and that further we must resist the temptations of the world to make ourselves the center.  “We exist to love and serve creation and each other and not the reverse.” How easily in our everyday lives can we make the decision to follow this principle yet make choices that countermand our decision? 

Contemplative retrospection encouraged by Ignatius to help us in the discernment process is next on Margaret’s palette.  Using imagery so profound that my mind can barely keep pace with my heart, she sketches the concepts of Spiritual Consolation and Spiritual Desolation, into which Ignatius divides all experience.  “Con” is with, or toward.  “Sol” is the sun, or light, or source.  Activity and thought taking us toward the light is God-centered (Spiritual Consolation), and that taking us away is ego-centered (Spiritual Desolation).  Further, in a trick she ascribes to a Jesuit colleague, she has us imagine a darkened room lit only by a center lampstand.  Invited into the scene is a participant asked to stand with his back to the light, walk away from the light, then turn and just stand.  Once facing the light, his shadow, (or personal “stuff,” or ego) is behind him and he looks to his light and sees his source, whereas when walking with his back to the light, his shadow/ego was in front of him and he walked toward it, in it.  This brilliant but simple analogy sears the soul as it explains the deep application of Ignatian spirituality in seeking and seeing God along the paths of our everyday lives. As we wander away and feel the gnaw of ego overwhelming our choices, we have only to turn and stand, and our source will beckon us back into the light.

Wherever our life’s path takes us, Ignatian spirituality calls us back to a God-centered balance.  In contrast with the openings of most religious or sacred ceremonies which start with a confession and acknowledgment of sinfulness, the oral tradition of the Spiritual Exercise begins in total simplicity and clarity with a reminder that we are God’s beloved.  Encouraged to “find God in all things and all things in God” we are thereby sent off with all the inner strength and conviction evoked by this positive affirmation… we are sinners, yes, but we are beloved of God. 

For our consideration, Margaret uses three metaphors to illustrate how the hand of God is in everything we do and all that we are. 

1.   The Single Cell.  The simple microscopic speck from which we begin our lives is blessed into goodness from the very start as it contains all the potential of our future lives in the tiny confines of one single cell. 

§  Do we see the miracle of God in the unlimited potential of the single cell from which we grew?

2.   12 Teams of Oxen.  In 1 Kings 19:19 Elijah meets Elisha, following the Lord’s order to “make him a prophet in your place” (1 Kings 19:16).  Elisha has 12 teams of oxen who have laid down furrows for the next crop.  When he leaves to follow Elijah, others reap what he has sown.   

§  Who has plowed our furrows before us…? As in the Celtic tradition, do we show gratitude to the heavenly hosts of saints, family, and teachers who have gone before us to intercede for us and make straight our paths? AND

§  For whom are we plowing furrows… are we mindful to make straight those paths for them to follow?

3.    The River.  Psalm 139 shows God dreaming us into being.  Despite the tribulations we incur, He sees us through because He is “acquainted with me in all ways” (Psalms 139:3).

§  Each “tributary” feeds the river and helps it grow.  We must seek out in our lives those who “con” tribute and feed us, versus those detrimental to our journey. 

§  Bombarded with fluctuating flow that can cause white water dangers, the river still calms itself and finds balance.  We must find the way through dangerous times and rebalance our lives.

§  At certain points the river seems to disappear, but actually goes underground only to resurface and flow on.  We too must sometimes go underground, regroup, but come back to rejoin the flow of life.

§  Diversions sometimes take the river off its course.  We must be aware of when and by whom we are diverted from our promised path, asking “what/who has been life-giving and served the greater good, and what/who has been exploitive and used me without consideration?”

§  The river can stagnate into a lagoon, or a bogged marsh, yet it will, however slowly, seep back and rejoin the flow.  We must be aware of the stagnating influences on our daily lives and resist the temptation of settling in or resigning ourselves to lesser versions of our energetic, committed selves.

It is, then, a firm foundation that we seek.  We ask questions in our discernment: Where is the solid ground in our lives?  Where is our life centered?  Which things is God in, and which is He not? Can we be indifferent to, and detached from, material things such that we can recognize ourselves as stewards, not owners, of those things?  When it is time to let them go, can we do so and therein truly experience spiritual freedom? (“Doing something without hope of gain or fear of loss is the true essence of spiritual freedom.”)  

How do we practice discernment?  Perhaps it is by training ourselves to know our movements as either creative (bringing us toward the light, or God) or destructive (taking us farther from the light, or God).  Perhaps we can tap our moods and emotions using Ignatius as our guide:  after his injury, he had time to daydream, and found that the thoughts centered on spirituality and goodness energized him, whereas those more ego-centered and trivial deflated him. Can we recognize similar after-effects proceeding from our thoughts and learn from them?

During the eleven months of his post-conversion discernment, Ignatius practiced two forms of prayer (Imaginative Meditation and Lectio Divinia), taught today as ways to “get inside the gospel and let the gospel get inside us.”  Each begins by asking for grace; each involves the reading of a passage of Scripture; and each is aimed toward attainment of grace that sheds light on your own life.  He also practiced the daily Examen, which teaches us a way to live reflectively.

Imaginative Meditation: Begin by handing the prayer time over to God.  Read a scripture passage carefully and slowly.  Using your imagination, go into the scene and see if you can find yourself in it.  Allow the scene to build in your subconscious as you bring it to life.  Have a conversation with Jesus, a disciple, or any character with whom you identify within the scene.

Lectio Divinia: Take a few verses of scripture and read slowly, asking for the grace to make a heart connection; re-read, looking for an image or message on which you can meditate. Once you find it, take it with you as a nugget on which to continue your meditation throughout the day (or longer period).

Examen:  End the day by raising your awareness of what has gone on throughout the day, noticing God’s touch in your life.  Be aware of each word and action to each individual you meet.  That awareness will lead to the realization that just as the most far-reaching weapons on earth are within the control of individuals, so too the greatest advancements are also within the control of those same individuals.  We can affect change on a global scale starting right now with our own efforts.  The negative effects of low self-esteem, poor self-understanding, and broken heartedness, can be overcome by positive affirmation, expressed gratitude, words of encouragement, a helping hand, and even a smile.  Each day’s practice of the Examen  is a reminder and reinforcement that the currency of transformation is in our own back pockets (“the Kingdom is within you.”)

In Margaret’s words,

“We are called to fulfill God’s dream on earth.  Discernment is about pushing the world a bit closer to the coming of the Kingdom, or put simply, leaving the this earth a little richer in the world’s store of love, hope and trust.  Through these Ignatian prayer exercises, our journey into and through Scripture encourages us to see not only what Jesus did or said, but what attitudes and values He showed.  Our situations, then, can be transformed by internalizing those attitudes and values to help shape our minds and hearts closer to the mind and heart of Jesus.”

Internalizing Christ’s ways can be perceived as a Christian, or even an Ignatian, practice.  Alternatively, it can be seen as imitating the good deeds of an iconic historical figure.  Becoming more God-Centric can be seen as a practice of humility and self-effacement.  Or, it can be viewed as turning toward the light rather than away from it, and in doing so following an enlightened journey rather than one of ego attachment.  In order to make better life choices, we first must set forth principles, or decisions, about our life path.  For each of us, the influence of great teachers can help us cultivate inner strength for the tests life will surely place in front of us along the journey.  Perhaps in adversity we will recognize the lack in our inner selves when, like the 2-year old whose past 24 months of being coddled and cared for as the center of everyone’s universe is faced with setting out on his own, and cries out “why isn’t creation serving me anymore?!”  In that moment, we might see that there is a need for a shift… from “me”-centered to “other”- centered.  As we leave one paradigm and seek another, we may find the lighted path more to our liking.  We may find an inner peace in the treasure that is life balance.  We may begin to love and serve creation and each other.  We may internalize the beloved nature of ourselves, marvel at our seemingly-indestructible gifts, and gratefully reflect on the struggles of our forbearers that made this life of ours possible in its infinite possibilities.  At that juncture, we may see God’s hand in our story, and like Ignatius, realize that the big story of creation would not be possible without the smaller, but equally vital, story of us.

Like all memorable teachers, Margaret left us with a treasure of stories and imagery. Her final story was of the scene in Acts 1:21-22 where qualifications are being set forth to replace Judas as the twelfth apostle (a prerequisite number to lead the 12 tribes of Israel). 

“Therefore it is necessary to choose one of the men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us. For one of these must become a witness with us of his resurrection.”

“Who among us can meet the three requirements to be “the missing #12?” she asks.  Then she encourages us to see our lives as Christians as a positive response to each of the requirements.  “Do we not know Him personally?  Have we not walked our journey beside Him?  Are we not witnesses to His resurrection? 

One final image that impels me, from Margaret’s own imagery, is that of the oil lamp.  With a two-ended wick whose one end must be immersed in oil for continuous fuel, and whose other end must be out in the world to draw oxygen from which it creates continuous light, the oil lamp is the perfect analogy for the essence of Ignatian spirituality.  When grounded in a deep spirituality which continuously fuels us, we can face the daily struggles of life and find strength, peace and joy in service to all creation.

May our lamps shine bright.  And when they flicker, may we draw on our source and resume the illumination of service which brings happiness and fulfillment to others, and ultimately, to ourselves.