Spiritual Exercises

This weekend I went on a retreat sponsored by Regnum Christi. The retreat was a way-condensed version of the Spiritual Exercises by St. Ignatius of Loyola. It was a powerful experience for me and I thought I’d write a little bit about it on the Natalist Diaries. Normally, I’d be blabbering all about this to any one who asked me for the time, but it was a silent retreat and I want to continue to cultivate the silence in my life.

I don’t have the time to say everything that I want to in one sitting, so I won’t. But, part of what I experienced was the confidence to be faithful in little things, a little at a time, so over the next few days/weeks/whatever I’m going to slowly break down the retreat and my reader(s?) can digest it over a period of time.

I learned nothing new on this retreat. Except for Father Dai’s personal stories of his life and escape from Viet Nam, I’d heard every one of the anecdotes and illustrations he used in his reflections*. But, I did learn some things anew. Mainly, that I love Jesus and that He loves me and desires my holiness /happiness more than anything.

I’ve been on roughly one million retreats in my life and I am very familiar with the life-cycle of a retreat-born resolution. In most cases, these resolutions are like pet fish that thrive in their natural environment but flop around and die when you try to take them for a walk. In spite of this, I believe that this retreat was a life-altering event for me and that “change gonna come”. (More about this in future posts…)

The last thing I’ll mention today concerns coming back after a mountain top experience. Father Dai said we need to make our resolutions while our hearts and minds were still untroubled by our daily lives. He said the clarity we experienced on the retreat would go away quickly unless we prayed. Of course, I knew this (I’ve been on a million retreats, remember?) but I wasn’t expecting the transition from retreat to real life to be so sudden. I suppose I expected to come home to my family, whisper blessings at the door, and be received as the conquering hero by my wife and children, who, sensing a change in Papi, would immediately begin beating their toy swords into tiny little plowshares they could use to clean their rooms.

I did have a soldier’s welcome, but it was of a different sort. I am that young GI, who struggles through basic training, overcomes incredible obstacles, and emerges at the top of his class full of promise and confidence. Then he catches one in the head before he even sets foot on the beach at Normady.

It is hard to live for Christ. It is hard to die to self and love as Love loves. Hard, but worth the struggle.

AMDG.

*There is one exception: “You catch ‘em, I’ll clean ‘em.” More on this later…