“The St. Ignatius Diet”

Most of us understand a diet as a process for losing weight. When Ignatius of Loyola offered some guidelines about eating and drinking as part of his little book, The Spiritual Exercises, his concern was not about weight, and certainly not about waistline, but to bring consciously into our relationship with God an aspect of our lives that we might otherwise omit. Praying and reflecting are spiritual exercises that enable us to draw closer to God. Choosing what we will eat and drink can also be a means of deepening our intimacy with God.

Sharing meals is one of the prime ways we grow closer to family, friends, associates – anyone we trust. On some occasions, we will say a blessing before a meal: an implicit indication that we wish God to be a participant. Ignatius would suggest that decisions we make prior to coming to table can be as much or more a means of including God in our eating and drinking than a brief prayer of thanks at the time we begin a meal.

What if we were to make up our minds after lunch, as to the kind of meal that we and Our Lord would agree on for dinner? Even a moment of reflection would allow us to be inspired in our choice of quality and quantity, before appetite could affect our judgment. From the perspective of mere human logic, we can probably make better dietary choices before we are hungry than when our blood sugar has hit bottom and we are ready to consume anything that looks tasty. But in terms of spirituality, bringing God into the choices we make about food and drink engages us in a highly personal encounter that fosters mutual love.

When we plan a meal for others, we want to provide not only fine quality, but the kinds of food and drink that will be most suitable. The better we know our guests, the more we will take into account their preferences. Some do not drink alcoholic beverages, some do not eat meat; one might have an allergy to one kind of food, and another, an aversion to a certain vegetable. We adjust what we will offer at our table or in our selection of a place to eat, according to our knowledge of others. If we were to consider for a moment, even before we go to a meal, that we are guests invited by God who knows us better than we know ourselves, we could think about what kind of food and drink God might want to provide for us.

Would God set forth more food than we really need, or the kind of drink that would cause us harm? God knows us well enough to take into account matters that we would not consider when planning a menu for even those who are closest to us. God sees from within us the areas of our eating and drinking habits that are sometimes ruled not by reason or by free choice but by those that are not truly in our best interests. If we let God guide us as to quantity and quality of food and drink before we are under the sway of our habitual response to appetite, we have a good chance of making choices that will nourish us in body and in spirit.

The basic premise of the “St. Ignatius Diet” is that we want to let God be with us in even the ordinary every-day decisions about what we will eat and drink. The love that God has for us encompasses every aspect of our lives. We often pray that we will be granted “our daily bread.” Ignatius suggests that we would also do well to bring our specific, personal eating and drinking decisions to our relationship with God. There are no restrictions on this “diet;” rather, it is open to what we know and continue to learn about ourselves and the world about us, including such things as solidarity with the poor, respect for those who provide our food, world food economics, and the spirituality of dealing with our appetite.

Many of us are not at a place in our relationship with God where we can pause for a moment, and “receive” the next meal’s menu. Rather, we start off with a simple presupposition that eating and drinking a little less than appetite would urge, will be to our benefit. We choose to eat less quantity of food than we are accustomed to take, and of a more plain quality, and we drink more water and ordinary beverages than those that might appeal to us. We are the ones who decide what to eat and how much to consume, but we seek to counterbalance the force of appetite, pushing us always towards “more and better.” We do not want to become diet faddists, but neither do we want to be under the compulsion of some unconscious factors that do not respect our full humanity or the purpose of our existence.

We will know that we are participating well in the “St. Ignatius Diet” when we reflect on our experience, and recognize that an abiding sense of peace accompanies the decisions we make and their effects upon us. If we were to engage in eating and drinking behavior that does not match God’s love and care for us, we would sense some disturbance of spirit in our reflections.

Whether we regularly reflect on the choices we make about each and every meal, or occasionally respond to a gentle inspiration with regard to our eating and drinking, we might be pleased with our personal experience of the “St. Ignatius Diet.”
 

Time and Time Out

“Time!” The command can be welcome, if we are tired, and are told that we have done enough. The word can be dreaded, if we are trying to finish a test or a pet project, and are told to stop. In these examples, “time” indicates cessation of activity, with no continuance. Another expression, “time-out” usually means a brief pause from activity, as when a team takes a break from playing the game for the purpose of making adjustments, or when parents have their children leave off what they are doing so that they might reconsider their behavior. We all need some time-outs from the ordinary occupations that take up the majority of our time.

If we take brief time-out periods, we might do as well or better for ourselves and everyone around us than would a basketball team or an over-involved child. Whether we are engaged in physical or mental work, entertainment or exercise, we will often gain inspiration, energy, and efficiency if we take even a moment or two for reflecting on what we are doing and why we are doing it. And when we momentarily open ourselves consciously to God, we do not lose time, but we add to the value of the time we have.

Taking a break or a time-out provides us with the means of achieving balance among various needs, and also with the opportunity for making some positive adjustments in our activities. We are good coaches or parents for ourselves when we deliberately pause as soon as we become aware – no matter how busy we are – of some imbalance or disproportion that needs our attention. Most of us have found it wise to pull over and stop a car if we hear a strange noise, or feel a change in the steering. Better to check to see if we have a flat tire or some foreign object clinging to the car than to continue on and perhaps have an accident. How wise we are when a “warning light” appears on the dashboard of our consciousness, and we pause to ask ourselves what it is that troubles us. We can make a quick modification to our intention, our direction, or our manner of acting, instead of continuing on past the graciously provided warning sign to a disappointing conclusion.

Though we are the ones who declare our own time-outs, we might treat as gifts of God the impulses we receive to pause for a moment. Even if we do not advert to it very often, we know that God will some day declare for each of us that “Time” that will mean the cessation of our activities in this life. When we receive a suggestion to make a temporary halt in the midst of thinking, writing, playing or working, we are free to ignore the movement as it occurs in our minds and spirits, just as we can walk out in the rain and ignore the thought of using a head covering or an umbrella. Many of us have had an experience of “getting wet” when we were not humble enough to trust the God of “Time” when we were offered a “time-out.” More frequently, perhaps, we have taken the moments that we needed to recognize a better way, a more honest response, or a more loving action, and made the needed adjustments. Everyone benefits when we respond in trust to God, the giver of all time.
 

“Me” or “We?”

Often we read or hear about those who classify one or other group of people as “them:” some less-than-persons whose behavior does not meet with the approval of the writers or speakers. They describe others primarily by their presumed or assumed differences, not their similarities. The distinction that people make between one group and another often reflects the particular attitudes and beliefs of those who see themselves only as individuals, and not as members of community. Their primary focus is “me.”

A married couple may speak of “we, and so can almost all of us use the collective pronoun in many appropriate contexts. “We” expresses a beautiful, meaningful truth about us. Though each of us is a unique individual person, we have more in common with one another than we have qualities that make us radically different. God did not create us as individuals so that each of us might have an exclusive relationship with him. Rather, we are social in nature. We cannot be fulfilled or become fully human without reference to other persons. There is no “me” unless there is “we.”

If we consider some of the “we” statements that are true for us, we might be both surprised and pleased at what we find. Each of us gives much to, and receives much from, many other people in the course of a day. We are workers and colleagues; we are citizens. We interact in buying and selling, we are engaged in a wide range of conversations with others about business, life, faith, and nothing in particular. We sometimes pray or worship together; we belong to, and identify ourselves with, clubs, committees, and volunteer activities. We are friends and we are families. Even some people we do not know by name meet the criteria of “we,” sharing a common origin and one common destiny.

Each of us could make an “inventory meditation” of the human connections that comprise the graced, providential, and growth-causing groupings that deserve to be identified correctly as “we.” A conversation with one or more persons might lead to the discovery of some common interests that we share. One or another of us might have encountered a stranger, a person at the store, who smiled and helped us find what we were seeking: a moment of human interaction in which both gained something. Even a very small experience of “we” carries us forward in life more quickly and surely than when the focus is entirely on “me.”

Though each of us has unique experiences of God, many of these encounters become more deeply appreciated and fully appropriated when we talk about them with someone else. Many of us find consolation in common worship, shared prayer, conversations about our yearning for God, trying to learn more about God, come closer to God, and to appreciate God’s revelation of self in our every-day circumstances. All of these are examples of “we” relating with God.

Each of us has needs that can only be met by other persons. Our independence is not primarily that of individuals but of communities – communities in which we are interdependent. We grow as individuals to the extent of our engaging in the variety of “we” interactions and relationships that are appropriate for us as we grow, mature, and move through life. Our lives reflect that of God, who, as Love, is also “we:” Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. For us humans, our best “me” is when we attend to our “we” with God.
 

Making Change

In grade school, I was “mathematically challenged,” so I had great respect for people in stores and shops who rapidly calculated the correct change without the use of mechanical or electronic means. They were able to “make change” with little effort, while I was still trying to figure out the correct sum.

“Making change” of dollars and cents within a decimal system is not a challenge for most people. But making change, any real change in our lives, is a wholly different experience. For many of us, change is difficult because we do not well understand the system that is being used. We cannot convert dollars to Euros if we do not know the rate of exchange. We cannot convert Fahrenheit to Centigrade unless we know a conversion formula. And we cannot readily make changes in our own lives if we do not respect the relationships that exist among the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual aspects of our hearts and minds.

Our internal system of making changes involves some awareness and acceptance of our bodies: strengths and limitations, energy levels, and state of health. To consider change, we need to gain information, especially that which is obtained from experience. The feelings that accompany our thoughts and considerations are important as we imagine making a change. And any change that is genuine, involves our values: all our deepest desires and loves, including our relationship with God.

If we reflect on changes that we have made in the past, we will surely recognize that the better changes, whether easy or difficult, were those made with the most honest evaluation of all factors that we could make. Personal integrity is far more valuable than anything we might gain or lose in making a particular change in a belief, an attitude, or a direction in life. Cheating is not allowed in the system for making change with mere dollars and cents, and certainly not when making changes in our lives. Any modifications we make to our intentions and behavior will impact the lives of others, whether or not we advert to the reality of human interdependence.

Making changes in our lives is more often and properly about qualities than it is about quantities, even though the consequences might affect, for example, the amount we eat or the length of time we use for exercise. Most of the changes we make are in order to bring our thinking and acting into proper relationship with the realities about us. If we see that good people like ourselves are going hungry not because of laziness, but because of unjust wages, we might change an overly simplistic belief that “anyone can earn a good living just by working hard.” If we come to know someone personally who struggles with an addiction, we might not think of him or her as a “loser,” but as a person in need of encouragement and appropriate professional assistance for healing.

Most of us can identify some of the changes that others should make in their lives that would be in keeping with our image of how people should live. But we cannot make changes for them, nor can we change them. We can change our attitudes about them, our expectations of them; we can learn about them, to understand their words, actions, and modes of expression. But change, especially at the level of heart and mind, belongs to us to make, not “them.” Though we are responsible for caring about one another, we stand before God and the world with the ultimate responsibility for making change in our own lives – change that is in keeping with who we are.

We would miss perhaps the most important component of the system for making change in our lives if we did not take into account the gracious participation of our Creator. God not only gives us the freedom and the responsibility for making change in our lives, but provides all the external and internal options, circumstances, and experiences that support change for the better, not the worse. We have each of us met at times some very difficult challenges, and might even say that we are the less for some of what took place. But most of the changes that we made were done with honesty and integrity, thus participating in God’s ongoing re-creation and co-creation with each of us into “the image and likeness of God.” (Gen. 1:27)

Even those who are not adept at making change with dollars and cents can count on God to be with them as they make change in their lives.
 

“Somebody”

Dean Martin was one of those who sang “You’re nobody ‘till somebody loves you.” The song might be romantic in the singing; the words by themselves convey meaning for a wide range of human realities.

Infants can be given names at birth, but if they are not cared for emotionally as well as physically, they will die, they will not become “somebody.” They need some human touch conveying affection as well as food and clothing. As children, we grew not only in size, but in capacity to think, judge, and act independently. We did this not as acorns that developed into oak trees when provided with water and sunlight, but as human persons who were treated with respect, encouraged, challenged, and educated by many people who wanted us to succeed in life. They loved us in deeds; they gave to us of their time, talent, and experience; they manifested various levels of affection for us. Some loved us in ways we did not then, and perhaps never will, understand or appreciate.

Not everyone loved us, and those who did were not always gentle in putting their concern for us into words and deeds. We received some doses of “tough love” along the way, and we also met with some people who were jealous, negative, and not at all helpful or supportive. But because we were loved to some extent, we became capable of dealing with adversity from without, and with struggles inside our minds and hearts. We do not have to be loved by everyone. Once we know and accept that we are loved, we become “somebody:” aware of our value and place in the world, and conscious of our power to make choices about who we will trust in their interactions with us. We make the judgments about what are appropriate ways to address us and act towards us and what expressions do not match the truth we have come to know about ourselves.

At the level of existence, we really are nobody until God loves us. We have no body in which to be ourselves unless God wants us to exist. God’s desire for each of us is to be a unique person – never to be repeated in eternity – and arises from pure creative love. Most of us, when we are creative, contribute something of ourselves in the process, thereby putting a bit of love into action. God is infinitely creative, and every act of creativity, including the results we view in a mirror, is an embodiment of God’s infinite love.

If we are willing to look at ourselves as “somebody,” loved by God, we are in position to make positive contributions to the world about us. When we take care of others, and the world we live in, we express our love for God. God cannot be loved by “nobodies.” In becoming “somebody” each of us grows in capacity to love God. We participate in the logic of love when we accept who we are, children of God. This is not self-exaltation, but humility. We do not deserve or earn God’s love by anything we do. God loves us first, enabling each of us to become “somebody.”

Being loved ourselves, we have the capability and the responsibility to love some “nobody” so that he or she can become “somebody.” In so doing, we keep the love flowing and expanding over the face of the earth. Whenever and wherever it is accepted, love brings forth love.
 

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Backing into the Future?

Some people back into parking spaces, so they can more easily pull out when they leave. Some people jog backwards (at least for a short distance) so they can build up their leg muscles. And some people back into the future, so they can keep their focus on the past. Of course the most efficient way forward is to face in that direction and give our full attention to where we want to go.

In terms of moving through experiences, especially those which elicit strong feelings, the intention we hold in mind and heart is extremely important. When we come to the end of a shorter or a longer-term experience, such as a school year, a volunteer program, or a job or living situation, we will have some thoughts and accompanying feelings. As we look at the darker memories, we might feel anger or pain; as we recall the moments of light, we might feel consoled or happy. We can let the feelings push or pull us one way and another, or we can decide that we want to work through the present moment into a future that matches our purpose in life.

We do not have to avoid, deny, or rationalize our feelings, nor do we have to remain in them endlessly. Rather than let the moods and ups and downs of our emotions determine our directions, we can attend to them so that we can go through them, into our future. We can grow and adapt rather than become depressed or beclouded. We have freedom to believe that present hurts can be healed.

Feelings come and go, if we acknowledge them. If we ignore them they will move us to unconscious activity or lead us to become closed to our experience, and into a state of numbness. So we take charge, by deciding that we will deal with whatever is going on inside, the positive and the negative, the pleasant and the unpleasant; we will take whatever time is required either to make sense out of the experiences we have had, or to accept our human condition without understanding it. Either way, our intention is to move forward.

Those who acknowledge their spirituality know that their values are challenged by the thoughts and feelings they experience, but that feelings do not define us, and they do not determine the kind of person we are and want to become. Our decisions, including those we make about dealing with our thoughts and feelings will either contribute to building up or to tearing down the building of the unique person we are in the world.

God is not indifferent to what we experience in our minds and hearts. The latest study of hospital patients is quite clear about the positive benefits in terms of healing and recovery for those who exercise their beliefs in a power of love greater than themselves. If we can ask our friends to understand us and to be with us through our struggles, we can certainly depend upon God to accompany us, but not to take away either our freedom to choose or some of the challenges that are the occasions of our growth. God is the power of love in the world, not control.

Those who choose to work through their present difficulties are connecting themselves with the essential goodness at work in all that exists. We have no need to back into the future.
 

Better than E-mail

E-mail moves almost instantaneously from one part of the world to another. One person can send a message to an entire list of persons all at the same time. Many of us, even in different parts of the world can independently send messages to one address, and all receive immediate replies - if automation is used. And yet, as individuals, we can only view and respond to one message at a time, no matter how fast our computers can operate, and no matter how broad the capacities of our e-mail servers.

We have our limitations, even aside from the use of electronic means. Though we can communicate with groups of individuals all at the same time, as when family members or friends are gathered around a table or teachers or leaders engage a group of people, none of us can give complete attention to one person while we talk about a private concern, and at the same time talk to someone else about the latest news reports.

As individuals, or in groups gathered for worship, we rightly take for granted the possibility of relating directly and personally with God at any time of the day or night, wherever we might be. If we consider what else God is doing besides being present to us in our particular circumstances of thoughts, words, feelings, actions, and beliefs, we might experience a sense of wonder or awe. While we are with God in our time and place, a vast number of other people are simultaneously present to God, each one involved in his or her deeply personal communication. We can remind ourselves that “God is everywhere” to help us think about the scarcely imaginable truth of God relating personally and intimately with people everywhere all at the same time.

If we are willing to expand our consideration of what is already mind-shaking for us, we can take into account God in Jesus Christ. Before his death on the cross, Jesus related with a limited number of people, according to the bounds of human limitations as we experience them. This same historical person who died but is risen, relates with uncounted numbers of people all at the same time, some in groups and some in unique individual communications, each in his or her own language or mode of interaction. In his glorified body, Jesus relates with each one of us according to our understanding, experience, and trust; according to the exercise of our gifts of faith, hope, and love. Jesus can be opening the Scripture to one person, touching another with a very gentle first personal experience, revealing a deep sense of understanding to another, and abiding with still another in the midst of pain or suffering. We cannot measure or comprehend the difference between Jesus before he rose from the dead, and afterwards. In his eternal now, Jesus does not have to juggle appointments, or avoid “double-booking” with two different people – or with two million.

The ability to communicate with many people simultaneously is not restricted to the risen Christ. From our experiences and those of contemporaries, and as attested by writers old and modern, persons who have gone before us through death now exhibit characteristics similar to those of the risen Jesus: they engage with many of us in unique personal relationships, all at the same time, no matter what our location, age, or religious sophistication. With Mary the mother of Jesus, Saints, and revered holy people, many of us have unique personal communication without the need to “take turns.” Jesus’ promise to bring us through death to new life seems to include the gift of becoming able to relate personally and individually with many persons at the same time. God desires to share with us in the life awaiting us after death a manner of loving others that corresponds to the difference between Jesus crucified and Jesus risen.

How often have we experienced a supportive, peace-giving contact with God or one of God’s friends who has passed through death? What takes place within us is not the momentary satisfaction that comes from receiving an automated email response after completing an on-line business transaction. When we receive a personal communication of spirit, no matter how many other people might also be graced, it is far, far better than e-mail.
 

Let Not the Future Rob the Present

War stories in films and books often represent their main characters talking about their fear of dying on the eve of a battle. For some, who get over-involved in thoughts about suffering or death, there is no room for anything else. They become filled with dread, withdrawn, and often physically ill. They are caught in a cycle of thinking that “tomorrow you may suffer grievously, or die.” For those who get trapped in thoughts about what might happen, their present becomes almost as painful as if they had already been hit by a brick, a bullet, or a bomb.

We all face challenges: some are small though intense; others appear to be grave threats to our well-being. Any of us might have thoughts that anticipate failure, or being rejected, or experiencing great loss and pain, perhaps even death. If our thoughts run too far ahead of the real events, we take a “hit,” and suffer physically and emotionally before anything has happened other than in our minds and imaginations. All our attention can become focused on what might happen, rather than giving the other side of the truth a chance. That which we fear might not occur; we might come through without harm or pain.

How great is the waste of energy when we concentrate on the pain or loss that we might suffer. Whether or not the dreaded event occurs in the future, we have already suffered, unnecessarily, in the present. If we are attentive only to negative possibilities, we are more prone to actualize them. Drained of energy and hope, focused only on our own thoughts, we are closed off from creativity, from movements of grace and inspiration, and from all that can help us to maneuver through our challenges.

We have options. We do not have to let the future rob our present state of peace. At the first thoughts about the future, rather than becoming engrossed in those thoughts, one after another, we can attend to the accompanying feelings of concern, fear, or anger, and try to name those feelings to God. That which we are experiencing is a present reality which can be shared with God who loves us. When we sit with another person who suffers, we do not take away their pain, but we share it in some small way that makes a difference. When we let God accompany us in our present state of mental and emotional turmoil, we will almost always find support that brings us a sense of peace and accompaniment, a lessening of fear and aloneness.

Whatever it is that we dread, whatever lies ahead for us, might come to pass. If tomorrow is a loved one’s funeral, or a leave-taking from a home, of course it will be painful. But before it takes place, rather than dwelling on the pain to come, we can engage in some reflections that will not change the facts or events, but will change us. We can remain closed within a circle of painful thoughts, or we can ask ourselves, “Where might God be in this coming event?” “How might I bring honesty and love to what lies ahead?”

If the worst happens tomorrow, it will happen, whether or not we worry and get sick about it now. Entering into a trust relationship with God changes our present, allowing us to experience the peace that comes from being completely truthful about our thoughts and feelings, and being completely understood and accepted. We are not alone, no matter what might occur. God is not going to "take away" life, but always calls us to more life, even through pain, suffering, and death itself.

We do not have to let ourselves be mugged and robbed by the thoughts and imaginings that come to us when we are faced with some awful possibilities. What is the grace of this moment? At the very least (or best) let it be communication with God about our concerns for the future. If suffering lies ahead, it is both reasonable and possible to think and imagine that we are about to take up a cross, but with Jesus. And He is Risen.

Happy Easter.
 

Re-tiring and Retiring

When a car’s tires are worn out, we re-tire it, so that our means of transportation continues to be useful. When some of our body parts wear out, we have them replaced or repaired if possible, so that we can continue with some of our activities. We retire for the night, so that we might be rested and ready for the next day. We retire from some activities in order to be able to continue living at an appropriate level according to our circumstances. Whether we re-tire our car or retire from certain forms of interaction with the world about us, our aim and intention is to continue, not conclude.

As children of God, we have two perspectives on retiring that are focused on continuation, not cessation.

First, we can ask ourselves what we need for our lives that would be like a new set of tires for our car: the appropriate means for continuing on our journey. For many of us, our answers are not the equivalent of selecting the same model of tires as the original equipment. We require new perspectives, deeper insights, more gracious habits, and broader outlooks so that the value of our lives increases rather than diminishes with age. Rather than acquire more material things, most of us find that we need to let some things go from among our overloaded boxes, closets, garages, and storage areas. Within us, we need to negotiate letting go of old hurts, grudges, and negative attitudes. We might need to forgive ourselves or at least let go of long-held fantasies about being “the greatest,” and put on some of the very latest model tires for the road ahead: trust in God, forgiveness of those who have hurt us, respect for God’s creation, and love of all God’s other children.

A second outlook on retiring attends to the continuation of humans through death. Entropy applies to the material universe, not the spiritual universe. We have probably noticed that, as many people age and become weaker, they become more focused, and more confident in their ability to live in accord with their values; more understanding of others, compassionate and loving. As we learn from our experiences, we tend to pull together many of the disparate parts of our lives into a simpler and perhaps more “mellow” whole. We might retire from a job, but not from personhood.

As people “wind-down,” many can be observed to be “winding-up” in their acceptance, peacefulness, and readiness for whatever is next, even if they do not know exactly what is next. While some put all their attention into seeking replacement parts (re-tiring) and others move into retiring from exertion, we know many persons who have become content with themselves as they are. They trust that God, who creates life, takes care of life. People who gracefully lessen their physical activities often increase their acceptance that God takes care of all the great and small things that are now – and probably never were – within their powers to change or affect.

Eventually we die, but we do not cease. We move on. God is fully prepared to re-tire us even though we die. From The perspective of God’s eternity, we have unlimited mileage left in us. Though we appear to have been declared “out of service” permanently when we die, we move on to another part of life in an entirely different mode.

Thoughts about our future affect the present. Whether we look for “the resurrection of the body” or simply rely on our experiences of God as sufficient promise for what will take place after death, life is seen to be of absolute importance. We belong to God at every moment, including those when we engage in re-tiring or retiring.