Jesuit Collaborative

The Jesuit Collaborative [TJC] recently held Ignatian Advent meditations and receptions in five cities: Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, Worcester, and Boston.  Below is the text of the reflection offered in Boston by Tony Compagnone, M.D., one of TJC's dedicated and generous Ignatian partners. 

Advent Reflection for the Jesuit Collaborative
Thursday, December 15, 2011

Welcome everyone.  I want to express my gratitude to the Jesuit Collaborative and especially to Clare Walsh and Bob Cunningham for giving me the gift of offering the reflection this evening.   Preparing it has been the richest and most nourishing spiritual exercise imaginable.

I should say at the outset that my inspiration tonight comes directly from my experiences in prayer and fellowship while I was on the pilgrimage to Spain with the Collaborative this past October, walking in the footsteps of St. Ignatius.  I am filled with thanksgiving for having been part of that journey, which continues to unfold and resonate for me even to this moment.  I also want to tell you what a pleasure it is to be once again in the company of several of my Ignatian co-pilgrims, whose gifts of friendship and faith lie between the lines of this reflection.

Pilgrimage pretty well characterizes where I have been led in prayer as I revisited the Advent-Christmas stories in preparation for this evening.  Perhaps because of Spain, I seem to have been struck by a heightened awareness of seeking and movement:  messenger angels dispatched from heaven to set the stage for the arrival of the Savior; Mary’s travels across the hill country to visit Elizabeth; Joseph and Mary’s difficult journey to Bethlehem and to birth; the Magi following the star to the stable.

All of these journeys, it seems to me, coalesce in God’s singular journey toward humanity, that momentous arrival of the sacred at the doorstep of the human—God’s coming down from heaven to dwell in our midst.  That end point—actually, the new beginning that is manifest as Jesus lying in the manger—has come to epitomize for me the goal of the pilgrimage we are all traveling together—the pilgrimage toward truth and love—toward our deepest desires—which, I think, is not a bad metaphor for life.

But as I ponder these Advent mysteries once again, it becomes increasingly clear to me that the journey is collaborative, if you’ll pardon the obvious allusion to our host tonight!  By collaborative, I mean that our reaching TOWARD the truth we seek relies on God’s reaching IN to draw us closer to that truth.  In the Advent narrative in particular, I sense a dynamic tension that balances both the seeker and the sought-after precariously on a razor’s edge of trust and faith.

There is a wonderful, evocative moment from the second week of the Spiritual Exercises that came to me as I was mulling over this notion of collaboration between God and humans.  Some of you may recall it as part of St. Ignatius’s suggestions for contemplation on the life of Christ, in particular the Incarnation and birth of Jesus.   (I’m paraphrasing here from Fr. James Skeehan’s workbook on the Exercises, “Place Me With Your Son”).

In this particular exercise, Ignatius asks us to imagine the perspective of the Father, Son, and Spirit looking with love upon our flawed and fractious world just before the angel Gabriel enters into the scene to announce to Mary the proposed plan for her to become the mother of God.  With God, we are asked to observe Mary’s response and to realize that the Son has become human for us.  Ignatius directs us to feel the leap of joy in the heart of God when the decision is made to save our sinful world by the coming of the Son to us.

Re-imagining the Incarnation this Advent, I find myself being more stirred by the Trinity’s profound love and anticipation in SENDING the Son to earth than I am by my own yearning for Christ’s ARRIVAL at Christmas.  I feel invited to acknowledge God’s deep desire for me to participate more actively as a collaborator in God’s great scheme, a co-conspirator, if you will, to bringing about a new world order.

The Gospels give me plenty of role models.  The familiar Advent stories and speeches always manage to supply inspiration through the willingness of the major players to go along with the plan—indeed to jump into the action with an abandonment of heart and spirit that is almost astonishing.  Just a few examples:

• Elizabeth’s fervent greeting of Mary that reveals the foundation of her faith and trust in the Lord;
• Mary’s magnificat—possibly one of the best speeches in the New Testament, demonstrating Mary’s almost militant determination to participate in the birthing of God’s kingdom on earth;
• The intrepid Wise Men, who converge from far corners to do homage to the newborn king, reading signs in the heavens and in their hearts of the truth that the Christ Child represents;
• Joseph, stalwart and steady, who risks everything, including societal shame, to take up his role in the stewardship of Jesus and His mission.  More on Joseph in a minute.

We love these Advent/Incarnation stories so well, I think, because in them we recognize what we pray for most:  the alignment of our own earthly desires with those of Heaven.  But by what a paradoxical design:  God’s in-dwelling among us comes not with the expected warrior king and his army but with an innocent infant, incapable in body to bring about any change, but who, precisely through that innocence—one might say impotence—wields the most potentially transformative sword of all.

As a pediatrician, I’m often moved with emotion when I examine an infant, particularly a brand newborn.  As I look into the baby’s eyes (when he or she will let me!), lay my hands on the tender, pristine body, observe the endearing movements and vocalizations, I experience a profound sense of awe in an infant’s power to attract and disarm.  Even more, as I watch the parents and loved ones gathered around the examination crib, I perceive the gaze of unconditional love and hope that goes directly to the “treasure” within the child--that kernel of pure blessedness and goodness and unlimited potential at the core of its being.

That gaze, I think, reflects God’s loving gaze upon us, upon our OWN individual treasure.  And irrespective of whatever sinfulness or worldly trappings with which we are inclined to bury it, I believe that God sees only the treasure and is waiting patiently for us to reveal it.

Is it any wonder, then, that at Advent, all the believing world is brought once again to its knees?  That in this story we find refuge from the madness of materialism and gift-giving and experience the life-renewing gift that has been given to US:  the gift of a loving family and an infant so helpless and poor that it must lie in a crib from which animals feed, there to become OUR daily bread, our LIVING bread, our living WORD.  Listen to this quote that I chanced upon during the pilgrimage in Spain, which my fellow pilgrims may recall.  It crystallizes for me this concept of gift; perhaps it will feed your prayer as well this Advent and Christmas:

     “In the midst of many gifts, a gift.

     In the midst of strident stimuli, a call.

     In the midst of great hunger, bread.”

I want to return for a moment to Joseph, who I believe is the unsung hero of the Incarnation-Nativity-Christmas story.  For me, Joseph is the most accessibly human character of the narrative.  He came to me surprisingly and powerfully during the Spain trip in October and has stayed with me as I prepared tonight’s reflection.

Let me tell you about a truly graced hour or so that I spent with Joseph in the Basilica of Montserrat, one of the Ignatian pilgrimage destinations.  In a small side chapel of the basilica, there is a magnificent, life-sized painting of the Flight into Egypt.  You’ll recognize it as the image on the Christmas card from the Collaborative this year.  Praying with the painting led me to experience, with penetrating clarity, Joseph’s key role in the events of the Nativity and following and to appreciate not only his special giftedness as a parent but also his own deep yearning for the kingdom of God.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph has four dreams—one of which we heard in the reading tonight (Mt 1:18-24)—four calls from God that reassure him and help him to discern the means to safeguard the Christ Child.  It is significantly through Joseph’s trust in God and witness to the truth of his dreams, I think, that God secures the advent of the new world order called Emmanuel.

Look at the painting and indulge me for a moment as I share some thoughts I jotted down in my pilgrim’s journal on that graced Sunday in Montserrat.  Though the subject matter is often referred to as The Fight into Egypt, I see nothing of anxiety or flight or retreat here.  Instead, I see a strong, serene, and resourceful Joseph leading his family on an alternate path toward home.  Theirs is a forward-looking, purposeful, unhurried pilgrimage, a journey of faith and love toward truth and their hearts’ desires.  The rocky ground creates no obstacle; the dying light, no gloom.  Though what lies ahead is unclear, they achieve growing strength as family, and they walk confidently forward in the full knowledge that the Lord is with them, both in Heaven and now on earth.

Uniquely this Advent, Joseph has helped me to recognize my own potential for collaborating in God’s plan.  The humanness of his initial fears and self-doubt, and the strength with which he overcomes them, inspire me to look beyond my own disappointments, self-consciousness, and sense of inadequacy—my negative personal agenda, if you will—and discern instead my most heartfelt dreams, my higher calling.   For me, Joseph exemplifies the alternative parenthood that we are ALL invited to share, the call to foster the Christ Child through caring for others in our families, our work lives, our faith communities.  In the midst of so many gifts, Joseph has become my most precious one this Advent season.

To conclude, I’d like to invite you to close your eyes for a few moments and place yourselves in the presence of the Father, Son, and Spirit, along with Mary and Joseph, who are looking down upon US this Advent evening.  Perhaps you’re walking alongside them in the desert, following in THEIR footsteps.  Experience their joy as they call forth the treasure that lies at the core of your being.  Feel the leap in YOUR heart as you express gratitude for being called and answer “yes” to their invitation to join them in their mission of salvation.   Share with them your heartfelt responses to one or all of these questions:

Where and what is YOUR particular treasure or giftedness?  How can YOU contribute building the kingdom of God?

What are YOUR dreams?  How do they align with God’s dreams for YOU?

Acknowledging Jesus as Word and Bread for the world, how and where are YOU word and bread for others?

As we enter into prayerful silence for a few moments, my prayer for YOU is that the Advent and Christmas stories may revitalize your commitment to everything that this new beginning means:  hope, faith, and the invincible power of Divine love--and that as you begin the next phase of your life’s pilgrimage, your prayer may lead you to discern the deepest desires of YOUR hearts and the grace of knowing that God has led you there.

AMDG