Theophany's Blog

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam

15 Nov 2010 Leave a Comment

by tiffaniv in Uncategorized

There is this thought among the Jesuits. Perhaps, it is even a regular Rule with a capital “R”. I am not sure, but I do know that the Jesuits teach that if there is a pervading theme or desire entering your life, it is God’s way of speaking to you. His love will attempt to enter at every possible level. For example, if you long for quiet walks along the beach just to pray or contemplate, if you constantly dream of a cabin alone in the wilderness where you might, one day, retire and write your memoir, chances are that you need to spend more time in prayer now. Not tomorrow, but now, because this is the Holy Spirit’s way of speaking to you in the present about your present need.

I love the Jesuits, if I might add. They are my favorite order of priests in the West. Though, they are dual rite priests, so they know the Divine Liturgy as well, and they are darn well educated. Never met an unfriendly Jesuit either. They seem to know the way to the contented life.

Keeping their idea in mind, I started to reflect on how I have tried – twice now – to move directly into Eastern Orthodoxy and how – once – I have tried to move into Eastern Catholicism (which is identical to EO, except, that the EC Church is in union with Rome), but God has not allowed it both times. Now, I am sure that some of my Orthodox friends (and I have many, and all over the world, and I love them dearly) would not agree. They believe as we Catholics do, that they have the One True Church, and so anything thwarting such a move would be a move created by nothing good. Well, I kind of like my writer-pal, Jonathan Maberry’s, Facebook outlook on religion where my two favorite Churches are concerned, “everybody’s right.” ‘Cause, heck, I can’t be everywhere at once. I will let the priests and theologians argue what is beyond my tired brain to understand.

But I keep getting knocked back into Rome for health and other reasons, and so if I were to start thinking like a Jesuit, I would have to ask myself, “What is it that you are saying to me, Lord, through my own desires and wants here? Through my own continued dream of getting deeper into what Rome is supposed to be without all the red tape and irritating indifference sitting in the pews? How, specifically, does this speak to me?”

Well, I can’t go anywhere right now, except, to the 12:00 Mass. This is for certain. I can’t convert if I can’t participate in Orthodoxy. So, here I am in Rome, and I do love Rome. I do love my Catholic faith more deeply than I probably love most things in this world. I am who I am because of my Catholic faith. Even when it’s been highly unpopular, I have always been Catholic. So, sitting here, in a Latin church pew is not so uncomfortable for me. I just get restless that others are so indifferent to the Sacred Heart, to the Mass, to the Eucharist.

But why am I so concerned what they believe or don’t believe? When my heart is drawing me closer, then I should act like a Jesuit and take heed. So, I have started to forget about the state of things I cannot change (there is that Serenity Prayer for sick people again) and simply live as I am able. So, I have asked God to revive what I love about Rome. This is easy. All I have to do is pick up my Rosary. All I have to do is do as I have always done, but this time not abandon the practice of faith when others distract me (or when I allow myself to be distracted by them).

I have always made a habit, after Mass, of going before the statues of St. Joseph and Our Lady. I ask for their intercession on behalf of my husband, my family, other fathers and mothers I know, simply requests friends have made known to me. And I ask St. Joseph – the Worker and the father – to intercede for my strength as parent, as a Catholic. In his simple way of always holding Christ as a child, St. Joseph seems uniquely strong to me. I love that part of his image, and it gives me a strength that I would not be capable of acquiring otherwise.

And so I then move on to Our Lady, who technically should probably come first in my prayer ritual, but she is furthest from me where I sit in Mass, and I know she is not concerned – up in heaven – whether or not I seek her earthly husband’s intercession first. For her true Spouse is the Holy Spirit, and so she is is completely filled with the grace I still only receive in bits and pieces in between my moments of sin, distraction, and other unimportant hindrances.

I bow, Sign of the Cross, Hail Mary Full of Grace…Hail Holy Queen...and then I just talk to her, asking if she would intercede for me that I would not forget to lean on Christ as she leaned on Christ. I cannot help but feel corrected in the most loving of ways. She does not condemn me with her soft, pale features. I have never felt that way about the Mother of God. She is there for me, never against me. She is there as the way to Christ when I am moving further away from Him. This is why Catholics have statues of Mary in their front yards, next to their driveways. She is directing us, even as we walk in the front door, that Christ is born and risen, and waiting for us now. She is our proof.

She does not point at me, she is pointing upwards, or she is always spreading her arms out towards me. I feel completely alone with her, and I feel like her child. Completely attended to even though she does not move, she does not speak, and she is repeated in so many different versions throughout the world. Since my first Hail Mary, more than 30 years ago, I have never tired of seeking her assistance in my life. And it makes me think that, maybe, I have been spending too much time looking at others and wondering why they are such boneheads. Perhaps, I am one of the boneheads, too.

Bow. Sign of the Cross. Kiss her feet. Move to the altar.

Bow. Sign of the Cross. Here, I talk to Christ directly. I give Him my complaints, my requests, my praises, my distracted thoughts. I lay them here at Your feet because I cannot even remember them all, I always say, do with them whatever You want, and feel the overwhelming sense that I need not explain myself to the One who knows everything about me – even the number of hairs on my head and amount of red blood cells I am currently lacking. He knows all, and this is the greatest of all comforts. I feel my heart begin to load up with all the warmth of the Eucharist – and this is only after having received it, after having been blessed and having sung the closing hymn. This is Christ and I alone at the altar. My long time Catholic Sunday ritual.

It is easy and what I know, and I move inside my Catholic faith as I do in no other location. Even inside the East, I could not move with such fluidity  between me and the Saints, me and God, heaven and earth.

This is what the Jesuits must be talking about, about listening to the needs of the heart and going back to the only place where I know it can truly be fulfilled – at least – for me.

 Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam – For the Greater Glory of God

St. Ignatius of Loyola