Breathing space: Why I need to pray

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With this article, we begin a series of reflections by Jesuit formands based on the various aspects of “A Profile of a Formed Jesuit for Asia Pacific”, a detailed document on formation for Jesuits for Asia Pacific, which was released by the Conference in November 2011.  The document details six interrelated dynamics – interiority, psychosexual and affective integration, conversation, critical thinking, universal perspective and discerned action – that the Jesuit in formation finds himself at the centre of and which, if he is open to the process, have the potential to form him as a contemplative in action.  By looking back at concrete experiences in various stages of Jesuit formation and writing about these, the formands hope to help deepen the understanding of the dynamics of Jesuit formation, and contribute to the articulation of what it means to be formed as a Jesuit in the Asia Pacific.  

Fr Jordan Orbe SJ of the Philippine Province, who was ordained on April 14, provides the first reflection  – on the dynamic of interiority. 

There’s no way you can live Jesuit life without praying every day.

This truth, while self-evident, was for me a lesson gradually and painstakingly learned. I remember the prayer periods during the time when I was discerning, and during my novitiate years, especially the Spiritual Exercises. What vivid contemplations! What spiritual lights! However, as I moved out of Sacred Heart Novitiate and into the daily grind of the scholasticate, regular prayer time was one of the first things to suffer. “Praying is a struggle” was becoming a constant refrain. My spiritual director tried to enlighten and reassure me that I was merely adjusting to the change of environment. And to a certain extent I was. But to be honest, my need for prayer, or the point when I came to feel that not praying is just like not breathing, came a bit later. And as I said, learning it took some pain.

I took pride in my being a “successful” scholastic. I had good grades in my classes, I got along with most in my community, and I was getting involved in ministries that interested me. I relished the growing competencies I had as well as the recognition and “demand” that came with them. It is nothing short of ironic that the kind of work I was being drawn towards was the ministry of accompaniment. I enjoyed giving retreats, listening to people, helping them make sense of their interior struggles. I didn’t quite realize that I was getting out of touch with my own. It wasn’t that I didn’t pray. I would even have very profound retreat experiences. However, if I am to describe the pattern of daily praying that I did, it would be something like this: “Lord, these are the things I need to accomplish today, this week, or this semester…” The Examen became a time to tick off items on my to-do list. And that was on the good days, when I had time for it at all.

Things came to a head for me during my regency years when I was assigned to do the following: finish a Masters’ Degree in Psychology, help run a psycho-spiritual centre that was going through a difficult transition phase, and live in a diocesan college seminary while running it as the virtual director. To my mind, the multiple assignments were only a testament to how competent, reliable and “wanted” I was. But the stress took its toll and I was burning out. Soon, I began to feel like an empty shell drained by what I felt was an incessant demand to fulfil expectations of me. Something wasn’t quite right within and I was coping in ways that were inappropriate and unhealthy. Life outside the Society became a real possibility. I had to spend an extra year in regency so I could to sort things out.

Going through that difficult time, I began to sense that as my fragile security based on external achievements crumbled, I was increasingly moved towards discovering space within. The experience was something of an invitation to remain, to stay with myself and whatever it was I was feeling or experiencing at that moment. Prayer became a chance to just breathe. I sensed how God was keeping me intact amidst the external turmoil and transitions. It seemed that God didn’t want to play second fiddle anymore to my own ideas of what it meant to be a Jesuit. There was something in me that was making me yearn to simply be with. It was as if my life and my whole self were being gathered towards a centre.

In a way that is hard to express, my prayer has grown more and more simple. I have come to see that quality time for prayer does not mean filling it up with all sorts of expectations, agenda or even spiritual matter. I see now that one big obstacle I had was the unconscious expectation that I should receive some “grace” or insight during each prayer period. Otherwise, it would have been a waste of time. It is so easy to be mistaken about the id quod volo movement of the Spiritual Exercises. Unmindfully, I tend to translate the graces asked for into goals I need to achieve for myself. And in my experience of giving the Exercises, I know how this is a common trap for many. We do beg for particular grace in prayer but always recognizing that it is only secondary to the grace of God’s presence.

There are times when God does seem to draw me towards a particular insight through the day’s psalms or readings, and I allow myself to follow that. But more often than not the whole time is just spent trying to make space amidst the clutter. I realize that I need a long time just to come to a quiet. But I also have come to appreciate the time to simply allow whatever thought and emotion to rise within me and gently let them be in God’s presence. This is prayer of the most refreshing kind.  What a relief it is to be reminded now and again in prayer that I can simply be! I don’t need to exhaust myself planning, targeting goals and executing. During the day, whenever I find myself yearning to get back to this inner space even for a few moments I am drawn to make my Examen.

I know how this shift in my way of praying is also due to the accompaniment I am receiving.  I am fortunate to have a confessor, a spiritual director and a therapist who are all perceptive, wise and compassionate. Each in his or her way is teaching me to be present to myself and gradually unlearn the habitual ways of numbing myself away from self-doubt and negative feelings. They have in turn led me to other spiritual guides: teachers and authors with a lot of wisdom and insight. From all of them I am learning to regard myself with a bit more mindfulness, humour and loving-kindness. This has had a profound impact on how I deal with whatever comes each day. Whenever I have hectic days and challenging workloads, the deliberate effort to find inner space gets me through them. This has a ripple effect on those whom I accompany as well. The quality of my presence somehow provides them the space that allows them to feel safe, listened to and accepted.

Fostering interiority is recognized as a key dynamic in Jesuit formation. As I experienced it, fostering interiority entails learning to get in touch and nurture one’s inner space through awareness, acceptance and loving-kindness. I wish that it were as easy and tranquil as it sounds. Spending time to pray does not come as natural as I would intend. Thus I need to constantly resolve to do as much as I can to dispose myself to cooperate with this “centring.” I know that I must set aside time for quiet each day in the same way that I schedule meetings and important appointments. It also helps me to have a sense of physical space in prayer, so I placed a prayer mat in the centre of my room.

More importantly however, interiority means opening up this space, with all that the clutter it contains, to the ineffable presence of God who regards me with nothing else but love and wisdom. There is something that is compelling and deeply refreshing about this space and remaining in it in silence, in obscurity, even in uncertainty.  I can’t exactly put into words what it is or how it happens. All I know is that without this time and space spent in God’s presence, it would be like cutting off air, and that which is at the core of me will no sooner whither and die.