The Jesuit Guide To (Almost) Everything - James Martin [28]
—Margaret Silf, Wise Choices
I had never felt it so strongly before. Of course I had thought about the priesthood from the day I entered the novitiate and felt drawn to the life of a priest throughout my Jesuit training. But never was there a time when I felt that desire so ardently. Perhaps it was something of what Bartimaeus felt when Jesus was passing by.
When I awoke hours later, it was as if I had been asleep for only a few moments. In my foggy state I dimly heard someone calling my name. Since Myles had told the physicians and nurses that I was a Jesuit, they assumed I was already ordained (which I wasn’t). So the first thing I heard, seemingly immediately after having this intense desire to become a priest, was a nurse saying softly, “Father? Father? Father?”
For me it was a surprising confirmation of my desire from the God of Surprises. During my recuperation I realized another reason why Jesus may have asked Bartimaeus what he wanted. Naming our desires tells us something about who we are. In the hospital I learned something about myself, which helped free me of doubts about what I wanted to do. And who I wanted to be. It’s freeing to say, “This is what I desire in life.” Naming our desires may also make us more grateful when we finally receive the fulfillment of our hopes.
Expressing these desires brings us into a closer relationship with God. Otherwise, it would be like never telling a friend your innermost thoughts. Your friend would remain distant. When we tell God our desires, our relationship with God deepens.
Desire is a primary way that God leads people to discover who they are and what they are meant to do. On the most obvious level, a man and a woman feel physical, emotional, and spiritual desire for each other, and in this way they discover their vocations to be married. A person feels an attraction to being a doctor or a lawyer or a teacher, and so discovers his or her vocation. Desires help us find our way. But we first have to know them.
The deep longings of our hearts are our holy desires. Not only desires for physical healing, as Bartimaeus asked for (and as many ask for today), but also the desires for change, for growth, for a fuller life. And our deepest desires, which lead us to become who we are, are God’s desires for us. They are one manner in which God speaks to you directly, one way that, as Ignatius says, the Creator deals with the creature. They are also the way that God fulfills God’s own dreams for the world, by calling people to certain tasks.
A few weeks after the operation, I shared all this with Myles, who always combines prayerfulness with playfulness. He agreed that it was a grace to have this recognition, but then he laughed and said, “Wouldn’t it have been nice if you didn’t have to have major surgery to realize this?” (As it turned out, the tumor was benign and had nothing to do with the migraines.)
Laughing, I replied that if I hadn’t had the operation, I probably wouldn’t have realized any of this. Not that God wanted me to be sick, or caused me to be sick, so that I could recognize his presence in this way. No more than Jesus caused Bartimaeus to be blind. Rather, when my defenses were down, I was able to see things more clearly.
These are a few reasons why Ignatius asks us repeatedly in the Spiritual Exercises to pray for our desires. At the beginning of each prayer, Ignatius asks you to ask God “for what I want and desire.” For instance, if you are meditating on the life of Jesus, you ask for a deeper knowledge of Jesus. The practice reminds you of the importance of asking for things in the spiritual life and of realizing that whatever you receive is a gift from God.
Desire plays an enormous role in the life of a Jesuit. A young Jesuit who dreams of working overseas, or studying Scripture, or working as a retreat director, will be encouraged to pay attention to his desires. Likewise, Jesuit superiors reverence these desires when making