Looking Back, Looking Forward - First Studies

The day after I took First Vows, my provincial gave me my first mission--to live at Ciszek Hall in the Bronx and to study philosophy at Fordham University. A few months ago, after three years there, I finally graduated with, as we like to say in my community, the highly elusive and coveted MAPR (Master's in Philosophical Resources). The MAPR is similar to an MA in philosophy, except that its requirements are much different. We approach philosophy historically, starting with Plato and Aristotle and work our way forward. The program culminates with the De Universa - an oral exam administered by three philosophy professors who grill you for one hour about broad philosophical questions.

Many Jesuits strongly see this mission as a true act of obedience, as they would much rather be doing something else. They validly ask what how philosophy is relevant to their work as Jesuits, and some do in fact say that philosophy has little to no influence with their current work. Some tell horror stories of their time in philosophy--one had such a strong visceral reaction to first studies that upon visiting the old site where he studied many years before, he promptly threw up.

During my time at Seattle University, it was my own choice to study philosophy during my first two years there. I actually rather like the discipline, although I'm quite aware that I'm in the minority position here. So, I found myself in a privileged position, since some of my other Jesuit brothers hadn't studied philosophy before.

My approach to philosophy stems from the root meaning of the word. Philo in the Greek means love and sophia means wisdom. At its core, philosophy is a journey towards the love of wisdom, which is a helpful trait to have as a Jesuit. Indeed, love of God should not contradict love of wisdom -- these loves should very much be in harmony. Of course, that is a disputable point depending on one's perspective, but Christian thinkers I assume would not argue with me on that.

One of the lessons from my philosophy studies at Seattle University that I carried with me into Fordham was the importance of slow thinking. The questions that philosophers have asked throughout the centuries are not easy ones to grasp, and it necessarily demands a lot of time, energy, and patience if one is to plumb its depths of meaning. For me, I have never been satisfied simply regurgitating what ancient philosophers have stated about a particular topic. I seek to understand the importance of the questions being asked and to ponder why they are being asked in the first place. I also ponder whether the question being asked is relevant, which does not always seem so because some philosophers don't seem to know how to put forward a clear thought. At least it seems that way to the contemporary ear. And, to be honest, some of their questions are rather irrelevant today.

Some of the more compelling questions I encountered were: What does it mean to be a human being? How did the universe come to be? What can we know of the world around us? Can anything meaningful ever be said of God philosophically, or must we necessarily rely on Scripture? (The Catholic Church historically has used philosophical discourse to talk about God without relying on faith as a way of asserting that God-talk is indeed possible even without faith while stressing that reason alone can only take us so far) Why is there evil in the world? What is truth? What is justice? Are we truly free beings? The quest of philosophy is the quest for understanding, to set aside substantial time to reflect and meditate upon some of these big questions. In an age where so many can live an unreflected life spurred on by habit, routine, and technology, philosophy necessarily requires the person to step back and to consider the life one leads in light of these major questions.

For me, the most significant questions related to those concerning human nature, to God, and to an understanding of the created world (some claim the universe simply 'is' and never had a beginning point, a claim I don't buy). While most of the philosophers we engage with are dead, I would think about the type of questions I would want to ask were the philosopher alive today. For me, philosophy is not about looking back to the past and dwelling there ad nauseum. Minimally, it is at least entertaining the idea that the philosophers of the past might have something worthwhile to say to the present, which might challenge the way we look and understand the world in our own time and place. Might what they say uncover false assumptions and opinions that we hold today? Or, how might we respond to their questions and give clarity to our own thought?

So, the question is: why is philosophy studies relevant for a Jesuit? It is important to acknowledge that we live in an age where people more readily question their beliefs and no longer view tradition as a sufficient source for truth. The Catholic Church, as a result, continues to be in need of those who are willing to critically think and give well-reasoned responses to today's probing questions. As religious, people expect us to know what we are talking about, and they can smell bull**** from a mile away. Of course, studying philosophy will not magically give us all the answers we need. Indeed, sometimes it leaves us with more questions than answers. And sometimes it just leaves us dazed and confused. I think, though, that the practice of critical thinking is essential in our ministries, as I have witnessed many people who do not respect and who readily dismiss priests they deem to be incompetent.

Second, most of the philosophers we study are not people of faith. It is very easy for religious people to live in their own bubble and to expect that everyone should think the same way they do. It is much easier to converse and talk with those who share our same beliefs. Yet, in an increasingly globalized and diverse world, it is essential for us to be able to develop the skill to have honest and meaningful conversations with those who see otherwise, and one of the ways this is done is by truly making the effort to see as the other sees. Nothing is so maddening as those who pompously assume they are right without even respecting what the other has to say. One might be right, but what is gained if the other is alienated in the process? Philosophy truly is a time when we are forced to try to see things the way others see them. We don't have to agree, but the manner in which we disagree is essential to the way we relate to the world today.

Finally, Jesuits are challenged to find God in all things. I remember my provincial urging us who were going to embark in philosophical study to do our best to find God in our work. For me, this became an important interpretive lens as I sifted through various philosophers. If I was conscientious, I tried to ask where God was found in what I was reading and studying, and trust me, it can very much seem like God is absent in the studies. Thankfully, I feel that I was able to keep this challenge in front of me in many instances, as many of the papers I wrote reflected this struggle of finding God. If I may exaggerate, if one can find God in philosophy, then one can find God anywhere.

I can write so much more about the past three years, and indeed I have so much more to say. For example, there was so much I learned and experienced during this time that was really important to my growth and development and that has absolutely nothing to do with philosophy. But, this post is already getting long, so I'll restrict this post primarily to reflecting on the academic aspect of my previous mission. I'll end by saying that I find myself quite grateful for my time in first studies in spite of the numerous challenges I faced, and I was privileged to feel God's intimate presence in a variety of ways during the past three years.

On an unrelated note, tomorrow is the Feast of St. Ignatius day - a cause for celebration. I intend to do just that =p Happy St. Ignatius day!

Looking Back, Looking Forward - The Novitiate

On August 19, 2006, I entered the Jesuits. I sometimes get some strange questions like: "how long does it take until you become a Jesuit?" Well, it's not like I should expect everyone to know everything about our lives. When men choose to enter that door to their respective novitiates on entrance day, that is the day they become Jesuits. Of course, we are always growing more and more into that identity, but we are technically considered a part of the order at that time.

Some Jesuits look at me funny when I mention that I actually enjoyed my two-year experience as a novice. Well, maybe enjoy isn't the right word, but for me, that time as a novice was an essential time for my own growth and development as a human being.

Practically speaking, I feel in a lot of ways that I truly grew as an adult in developing life skills important for anyone. For example, I entered without my driver's license, and a few months in, my novice master out of obedience told me that I had to get my license, which I was more than happy to do. I learned how to cook, and not the sort of cooking where you learn to boil water and heat some ragu sauce. I also came to highly value the importance of cleaning and taking care of the place I lived (which is a good reminder for me, since I can be a slob still. This also reminds me of something a speaker said to the guys at Ciszek some time ago, that she was truly impressed that grown men were talking about properly cleaning the kitchen at community gathering). It's kind of true for me that the state of my room is similar to the state of my mind.

Novices are sent on a number of experiments during their two years, and for me, I found my experiments to be important in challenging and stretching me. I probably would never have done most of the things I did as a novice in any other context, nor would I have traveled as much and gotten the opportunity to visit so many different cities. For example, I spent some time on a native reservation. I was privileged to live in a L'Arche community for a few months. I also had the unique opportunity to visit Colombia. Though challenging in their own way, I thought it was awesome to be able to do things I never would have considered doing otherwise, and I truly learned a lot from those experiences.

Spiritually, it was as a novice that I truly began to develop my prayer life and an authentic relationship with God. As someone who is typically unstructured with his time, I appreciated an external schedule (what in Jesuit lingo we term as an 'ordo') that helped me to order my day. One would hope that I would learn how to pray with all of this time structured in the day for it. I also learned how to be silent and to listen and discern the movements of God in my life (literally, for more than 30 silent days praying with the Spiritual Exercises).

I also learned how to faith share under the Oregonian model. We have a reputation with other Jesuits for 'oversharing' because as novices, we would faith share every week, and there would be a double round. I like to think we simply learned how to share honestly and authentically, which fostered and challenged us to have relations of depth. In the first round, everyone was invited to share their consolations and desolations of the week and how they experienced God. Unique to our province is the second round, in which after everyone shares, we go off for twenty minutes to pray over what everyone has shared, and then we reconvene to share the fruit of our prayer. Sure, the sessions might have seemed drawn out and somewhat painful at times, but I think these sessions helped to develop a level of openness and trust I think is important in Jesuit communities. We weren't simply sharing at one another, but we were encouraged to share and to be able to have a dialogue with one another about our lives in a meaningful way.

The novitiate was also a very important time for me because, with all of this time for prayer and reflection, a lot of old demons began to surface that was necessary for me to face. I found myself wrestling with a lot of old emotions that my novitiate experience brought to the forefront of my consciousness. I remember feelings of uncertainty, wondering, as I mentioned earlier, what the heck I had gotten myself into. Wounds from my childhood that I thought I had gotten over a long time ago resurfaced in unexpected and surprising ways. Sometimes, I felt the darkness so strongly that I wanted to kill myself. Of course, that wouldn't look too good on the Jesuits =p Through these times, I am extremely grateful to my formators who gave me so much love and support during those times and who allowed me to be open and honest with what I was going through. It was especially in these shared moments that I felt my love of the Society truly deepen and grow. These men were not afraid to confront that darkness that I faced, because they believed much more deeply in God's healing light.

On the day of my First Vows, I remember feeling so much joy and consolation on that day. I truly believed that God had given me so much, and that God was truly inviting me into this way of life by sharing the gifts I have been given in this unique way. I prayed over the vow formula we had to recite, and I felt strongly that I would not recite those words unless I truly meant it. When it came my turn to recite my vows, I had a difficult time getting through the first line. Not for lack of belief, but for how moved I felt in proclaiming my vows before God. I started to tear up, which got my mom to tear up, which got another mom to tear up. Of course, it was a huge shock to everyone that I got emotional =p

In one of the lines, Jesuits profess that God will give us the graces we need to live our lives. In other words, we acknowledge that this life is truly impossible without God, and it is in God that we must necessarily place our trust. That is why our prayer life is so important for us. If we are not connected to God through our daily prayer, then we begin to lose our connection to the One who truly makes our life possible.

I remember sharing my vow picture with one of the philosophy students here at Fordham, and she remarked how happy we looked. At least for myself, I knew that was true at the time that picture was taken. It has remained as my desktop wallpaper for quite some time. It's good for me to be reminded from time to time.

Looking Back, Looking Forward - The Call

It doesn't seem that long ago that I followed my gut and chose to enter into a way of life that is amazingly foreign and other to the way most live their lives.

Of course, one of the most common questions Jesuits are asked are our reasons for entering religious life. I've always struggled to answer that question, because it's not like I literally received a call one day from God telling me to drop everything I was doing and to follow Him. To truly answer that question honestly and authentically takes a lot of vulnerability, especially when you're being asked by those suspicious of religious life in general and who hold negative views of the Church. It also takes a lot of time to answer if one wants a full answer and not a canned response.

It's hard to pinpoint just one reason why I decided to become a Jesuit. It was probably the culmination of influences of those who threw their seeds and sought to nourish them with their time and love. My parents labored long hours for countless years to put me and my four siblings through Catholic education. An incredible hardship, to say the least, and completely a sacrifice on their part--a sacrifice, I believe, that shaped my own desire to offer my own self for others. The friends and teachers I encountered from Kindergarten up through college who taught me what it meant to be a person of faith and who challenged me to do that authentically and openly. Schooled in Catholic education all my life, the way I see, view, and interpret the world around is inextricably linked to my faith. In a lot of ways, my faith is who I am--a self shaped and molded by the embrace of God. I also encountered in high school and college those Jesuits who were both uncouth yet also some of the most Holy people I have met, who through word and example helped to enkindle a fire in my heart, and who challenged me to find God in every moment and place. When I met them, I wanted to be like them.

As a feeler, I place a lot of value, both consciously and unconsciously, on my emotions when processing. In my prayer life, I feel that God has always invited me to own that aspect about myself, as my emotions can very much be conduits of grace in my experience. Looking back before I entered the Jesuits, I remember a lot of hurt and emotional suffering. Painful as it was, I always remember how that inner hurt and suffering was integral to my vocation as a Jesuit, and I truly would not be the person I am today without having gone through those experiences. I remember moments such as my Kairos retreat in which I felt that hurt to be healed in a powerful and transformative way thanks to those who mirrored the love of Christ--a love I wanted to extend. I think back to moments of learning about and seeing injustice that fueled a desire to make an impact in society. I also think about how I wanted to live my life in a much different and radical way than the typical get-a-job-and-raise-a-family route. I saw, and see, these inner movements as a call.

It's rather ironic that I did decide to enter religious life because I hated going to Church growing up. I thought Mass was the most boring thing in the world, and it seemed silly to me to engage in rituals which I felt had no bearing on my life. My experience of going to Mass was not lifegiving. It was simply a duty that one had to do because that's what Catholics do on Sunday, which I thought was stupid. It was the same damned thing week after week, and sometimes even the priest looked like he was bored. I needed good reasons for doing things, and I never considered the reason "doing it because you had to" as a good reason. My doubts and questions, though, were essential to my vocation, because they led me to question why we do things the way they do, and I realized that Catholics actually have damn good reasons for doing the things they do.

So, during my time at Seattle University, I decided to pursue my desires and to see where they took me. For most of my time in college, I had a Jesuit spiritual director whom I saw on a fairly regular basis. I had the opportunity to get to know the Jesuits much more at that time through weekly masses, Campus ministry retreats, and vocation retreats. I also remember when I visited the novitiate for the first time, and I just remember feeling quite at home with the men there. Once my senior year came along, it just felt right for me to apply to the Society, and so I followed me gut and went for it.

In my mind, it wasn't a life commitment. I was simply applying to the novitiate. Nothing more.

Although I was quite open about my desire to become a Jesuit with my friends, I was much more secretive about it with my family. The way I told my parents about this desire is rather strange. A number of months before I entered, I called my parents and told them that I had "big news," and that I would call them the following day. In my mind, I felt I had to prepare both myself and them for what I was going to share. When I did, they asked the typical questions that concerned parents would ask: "who's forcing you to apply?" "how will you make money?" "what if they send you to Africa?" I had always been surrounded by people who were super supportive of my desire to enter the Jesuits. I actually can't think of one person who told me that they felt it was a bad idea for me. Well, that changed with my parents--at least for a while. They are now proud parents who have no problems telling others that their son is a Jesuit. I think it was my First Vows and the way they saw me profess them that changed the way they saw it.

I feel extremely blessed and grateful for all of those who helped to shape the person I am today. It's very possible that I literally would not be here alive and doing what I am doing without their love and support. They imaged the love of Christ for me in a real way, and perhaps unknowingly, they imaged the voice of God who beckoned me to come and see where He wanted to lead me. AMDG

Why Am I a Jesuit?

"It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty.
These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacitly or aloud-but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching."
~Pope Paul VI, Evangelii nuntiandi, S76

I've been thinking about this question of being a Jesuit recently. I find myself wracked with uncertainty and overwhelming weakness, wondering if I have the capacity and the strength to live this life amidst the challenges and the struggles that I inevitably face. Can I give authentic witness to this vocation?

There's a part of me that feels selfish about writing this post as I compare my own struggles with the suffering that the people of Haiti are going through and think to myself: "my struggle is nothing compared to what they are going through. How dare I complain about my own struggles."

On the other hand, I feel my struggles to be quite real, and it would be silly for me to ignore the reality of what is going on inside of me. It is silly anyway--almost bordering on dangerous-- to play the comparison game of who suffers more.

As I was praying earlier, I felt called to write this because I need to write this for myself more than anyone else. In the midst of this time of First Studies, I need to rekindle that fire that led me first into the Society.

Why am I a Jesuit?

I have probably referenced this well-known quote of Fr. Pedro Arrupe before, but I continue to draw inspiration and strength from it:

"Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination, will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the morning, what you will do with your evenings, how you will spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything."

I was recently reading the letter that I wrote to my former provincial before I took vows during my 8-day retreat. I remember thinking that I was not going to take vows unless I truly believed in what I was going to profess.

My introductory paragraph read:

"Dear Fr. Provincial,
As I compose this letter to you, I am surrounded by our Lord’s grandeur here at Hayden Lake. I am overwhelmed by the abundance of God shown forth through the beauty of the earth and am moved with awe and thanksgiving. Here, in this most sacred place, God has touched me, deeply and profoundly, yet again. I feel wholly unworthy, yet still God beckons, invites me into a greater mystery beyond my own understanding. God has led me to this point, and as I imagine the prospect of taking vows this upcoming August, I feel at peace. I have found my home, have found where I feel I belong—in the vineyard of our Lord. Therefore, with humble heart, I ask your permission to profess on August 16, 2008 simple perpetual vows into the Society of Jesus and to be admitted into first profession."

These words were not fluff to make the provincial think highly of me. I believed these words profoundly. It is funny to read how unworthy I felt myself to be in God's sight--the story of my life. Yet, God still calls. God sees something in me worth sharing to the world, and I have to believe that because I often do not believe that of myself. That has been echoed in so many people who have been as Christ to me and who have affirmed my decision to be with the Society.

The fire, though, needs greater tending. Anyone can offer herself/himself to God without necessarily being in religious life. Why am I a Jesuit?

I don't want to answer: "because what else would I do with my life?"

As I think about this, I am coming to realize that it is absurd for me to think that I can fully and completely answer this question. Tending to one's fire is, in many ways, the task of a lifetime. I imagine that all people must necessarily ask this question as they grow in years. And perhaps what originally fed the fire must now be fed differently.

I think answering this question presumes that I completely understand my vocation. Yet, I alluded in my vow letter that I felt led into a vocation greater than my own understanding. That this life that I wanted to lead was wrapped in mystery, yet I believed that God would walk with me through thick and thin and strengthen me through His love and mercy to enter fully into this life.

I became a Jesuit, in part, because I felt the amazing power of God's love in my life, and I wanted to respond and share that with others. I saw the Jesuits as a conduit through which I could best share what I have been given to those around me. As a Jesuit, I have grown in faith and in love for our Lord, heartened by these brothers of mine who have taught and formed me into becoming more and more a Jesuit.

Yes, I am a Jesuit. But, in a different sense, I am always in the process of becoming a Jesuit. At this midway point in my time in first studies, I am called to revisit that question: "why am I a Jesuit." Do I have the grace to imitate Christ who humbly became as one of us up til death?

Only by God challenging me in this way can I really grow in my vocation, and I must be open to this challenge. And, that I can be open with this challenge is a grace for which I am thankful for. And, I know I do not enter into this challenge alone.

In my experience, religious life has been a very enriching life thus far, and I have grown in ways I never would have otherwise. But, this life is also not a walk in the park, and there are many painful graces to be experienced.

I hardly ever ask this of anyone (I have been recently), but please pray for me at this time. We religious pray for the world daily, but I think our vocations are strengthened by those who pray for us as well--that we might faithfully and authentically serve God and God's people with integrity. Please help us and support us to be the best people that we can be for the Church and for the world.