Neither greatness nor smallness

AMDG

I, a disciple far from home, gazing upon white skies and strong trees shedding their golden mantles, to you, my brothers and sisters across the country. Peace to you and your kin.

The Jesuits aim to desire neither riches nor poverty, health nor sickness, but only that which glorifies God and accomplishes God’s will. I think I could suitably add: Jesus, help me to desire neither greatness nor smallness. And in fact, thinking of St. Ignatius laboring over paperwork while his best friend sailed for the foreign missions, I wonder if he didn’t pray the same thing.

Smallness

This October, I was captivated with what was happening in Rome: a synodal gathering of Bishops, strengthened by the inclusion of women, lay people, and some other clerics. It was a global convention of the church to discuss how to go about being church. This is part 2 of 3 in a multi-year process and one cannot escape the understanding that it is an historic moment in church history. One senses the Spirit at work. I followed this year’s synod proceedings without expectations, and I was blown away.

First, I perceived the scale of the church. I heard about parts of the world I never hear about: the evangelical frontier in Mongolia, the struggle around polygamy in Madagascar, the defiance of Western cultural colonialism by many African bishops, the devastating shortage of priests in the Amazonian conference. I learned that in many places Deacons don’t really exist as a role, that until a few years ago in many places girls were still excluded from being altar servers and women from being lectors. I was humbled to see each region bringing its own story, struggles, and hopes to the round tables of the synod. I was aware of my own smallness, and the vastness and complexity of the church, and our Pope’s incredible job of keeping us together.

Second, I was astounded and consoled to see what virtually all the attendees were doing: they were listening to one another. They were listening in the spirit. Being distributed into small groups, having a speaking procedures which precluded reaction and invited prayer and reflection, and especially being freed from the eyes and ears of the media all seemed to cultivate a fertile ground for meaningful encounters of one another. We know it was working because of the fruit that was born: people were moved. They were touched. They could let down their walls enough to consider the person on the other side. The synod is just a synod: it is not a mighty council, but neither is it limited.

For me, as a trans person, I felt that I was expected to have an agenda. The progressive wing of the Catholic LGBTQ movement certainly painted things that way. But in fact, if anything I carry a mild fear of additional barriers being put up for trans people. No, I didn’t have expectations. However, I was keenly interested. Not only did I have skin in the game, but I also care about the whole church and all her questions and movements. This is such a fascinating period for the church; an adolescence. As I listened from across the globe, the narrow voices of single-issue groups faded and the richness of the church unfolded. My take-aways from this phase of the synod have been smallness; wonder; faith and hope.

Greatness

Besides paying attention to the synod, this fall I read the novel Ordained by L.C.Anthony. I saw it on a table in August and the catch line, I have chosen you, was irresistible. The book places one woman from rural Michigan at the center of the Roman Catholic movement for women’s ordination. It makes a hero figure of her. Reading the book was like listening to the author’s vision. I heard his hopes and I heard his voice.

As a trans person, I too desire a development in the church. It is so easy to make this a political situation: a cause to be lobbied for and orchestrated. And maybe that’s exactly how it will work. The whole time I was reading the book, it was too easy to put myself or my friends in the roles of the champions and spearheads in the book. I know that I tend to be grandiose, and this book spoke the same language. I was aware of that. My take-aways from reading Ordained were to name my own hopes. My own vision. And to ask for God’s.

Indifference

I’ve embarked upon reading the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus and their Complementary Norms. It’s akin to a rule of life and a charter. My goal is to better understand my own “way of proceeding,” and also to dive into the heart of the Society of Jesus, and the mind of St. Ignatius, as they are revealed in this core text. I’m in no rush, and it’s been excellent.

In the General Examen, which I would explain as an interview for one who would join the Society, Ignatius provides the following instructions for those who are not yet decided as to whether they wish to be a brother or a priest (pars. 130-133):

At no time and in no way may he or should he seek or try to obtain, directly or indirectly, one grade rather than another in the Society. … But yielding to complete humility and obedience, he ought to leave all the concern about himself, and about the office or grade for which he should be chosen, to his Creator and Lord […and the superior of the Society].

…If the Society or its superior desires to keep him always only for low and humble offices (in which he devotes himself to the salvation of is own soul), is he ready to spend all the days of his life in such low and humble offices, for the benefit and service of the Society, in the conviction that by this he is serving and praising his Creator and Lord and doing all things for his divine love and reverence?

Greatness and smallness for me are part of the wonderful mystery of creation and of God’s loving and unfathomable nature. I’m happy to be both and neither, to share everything with God and to trust where God places me.

I pray for you all. Please pray for me in a particular way to find a better balance in my life. I’ve gotten rather out of kilter of late and will be giving it some hard thought today as I seek to honor my health as well as my love of life and service.

Peace,

Your Other Brother