Lisa Bowden

Friends,

In the 2019 film Two Popes, Anthony Hopkins’ Pope Benedict XVI reveals to Jonathan Pryce’s character (Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, who later becomes Pope Frances) how hard it has gotten to hear the voice of God.

Hopkins’ character has begun to notice, however, the subtle change in movement of the smoke from his extinguished evening prayer candles, which now flows down instead of upward. He asks if the Cardinal pays attention to such things, then goes on to note how the Cardinal bought a ticket to Rome to see him just prior to the Pope himself beckoning him.

I love that these are the signs that move the two highest priests to change.

I’m glad today’s the feast day of St Ignatius of Loyola—the 16th century Spanish Catholic priest, mystic, theologian, founder of the Jesuits (Jesus society, which I have always admired) and regarded master of discernment.

Patron saint of spiritual retreats and soldiers, believer in education, Ignatius wrote during retreat in Montserrat, Spain (1522-1524), read, and prayed in a cave while living a rigorous asceticism after hanging up his sword (and egoistic ways) at the statue of the Virgin of Montserrat. 

His Exercita spiritualia (Spiritual Exercises) were written to help priests and monks in retreat to discern the will of God in their lives, leading to personally following Jesus whatever the cost.

The spirituality and formal examination of conscience that came from the “Exercises” were also to lead lay folks toward a direct connection between their thoughts and actions and the grace of God—a movement toward mystical union with God, of finding God in all things.

I’ve been working out discernment for myself, sitting with big life questions and trying to perceive and understand God’s voice from mine. My current efforts have felt wanting lately, so I’ve taken this Ignatian writing assignment as a sign to go deeper with my own Examen practice. Perhaps this Feast day will offer something to you? 

“Discern” (discretio, in Latin) is common church lexicon. I’m so curious how that looks for others, how listening goes. How does God show up—in signs, sensations, whispers? 

I’m going to practice reframing my hours as opportunities for Ignatian micro-retreats, not time slots To Do. What if we bracket our given moments as holy, to ask and listen: who/what directs our decisions? 

In communion,

—Lisa