“The exercises have as their purpose the conquest of self and the regulation of one’s life in such a way that no decision is made under the influence of any inordinate attachment.”—From the 21st annotation of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola
“The conquest of self and the regulation of one’s life,” spoken in 16th-century language, is a fundamental purpose of the Spiritual Exercises that has been stated in various ways.
Tim Perrine of the Christian Classics Ethereal Library writes: “The aim of the Spiritual Exercises is to assist people in finding God’s will for their life, and to give them the motivation and courage to follow that will.”
In our formation program, run mostly for public school teachers, we define formation, inspired by the Spiritual Exercises, as the reordering or reorientation of one’s passions and desires toward one’s life mission, God’s will or call.
Such reorientation is one of the gifts of Ignatian spirituality—becoming aware of and acknowledging passions and desires and giving them direction.
Today’s feast, the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, is a perfect occasion to reflect on passions and desires in the service of God’s mission for us.
Here we have two pillars of the Christian Church who lived their life and passion “to follow Christ more nearly” to the very end, both crowning their mission and life with a martyr’s death. Both were driven by passions and desires reoriented toward God’s mission for them.
Peter, the leader of the early Christian community, the designated foundation of the Church—“You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church”—was called “impetuous” by my spiritual mentor, Fr. Frank Reilly, SJ.
Paul, the eloquent and fearless evangelizer and preacher of the early Church, who in his intense commitment to his beliefs—“I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith”—was a witness to and perhaps instrumental in the death of the first Christian martyr, Stephen.
The dictionary defines “impetuous” as “characterized by sudden and forceful energy or emotion; impulsive and passionate.” We see this in Peter several times in the Gospels. Though he did not fully understand what he said, he was often the first to respond to Christ: “You are the Christ, the Messiah.” “God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you.” “Lord, it is good for us to be here… I will make three tents here.” “You will never wash my feet… then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.” “I will lay down my life for you.”
Peter’s were raw desires to love and follow Christ, almost innocent and naïve.
More deliberate
Paul was more deliberate. His passions and desires were expressed in his eloquent speeches and courageous actions. He was a Pharisee and an ardent persecutor of the early Christian communities. His passions and desires were such that when he underwent a conversion and became a Christian, he became one of its greatest evangelizers.
There is a Peter and a Paul in each one of us.
In her 2012 best-selling book “Quiet,” Susan Cain makes a case for the introverts as some of the greatest figures in a society idolizing extroverts. One can consider Paul as the extrovert and Peter as the introvert.
Cain gives a good context to the argument. She points out the shift in culture at the advent of the industrialization of the Western world in the late 19th century, from what she calls the culture of character to the culture of personality.
Dilemma
The latter was driven by the need to “sell” as industrialization, the production line, and the need to sell to or to create “consumers” became the dominant factor in Western societies. This also resulted in the shift from the agricultural, rural communities to urban centers or cities.
The main point for reflection is to see the tension between continuing to live in a culture of personality, marked by the “idolization” of movie stars, athletes, successful businessmen, yet yearning for the culture of character.
This is the significance of commemorating the Feast of Saints Peter and Paul. They represent our present social dilemma of finding the synthesis of the introvert and extrovert, not just in our societies, but more so in ourselves—discovering and integrating the Peter and Paul in us.
Peter’s synthesis point was in the dramatic healing of the paralytic in the Acts of the Apostles: “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk!” (Acts 2:6)
This was the impetuous Peter. As we would say, palpak (the perennial bungler who always falls short) as he professes his willingness to defend Jesus to the death, yet denies him three times when the moment to prove this comes.
This was the Peter who later is restored by the Risen Lord in the triple question of love, “Simon, Son of John, do you love me more than these?” (John 21:15)
He still struggles, and the default response comes from the impetuous Peter: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. (John 21:15)
Then the Lord makes him look deeper into himself and asks a third time, “Do you love me?” (John 21:17)
In the first two questions, the verb form of love used by Christ in the Greek text was agape, the ideal, “perfect” love. And Peter answers using the less than “perfect” love, fraternal love.
Then, in the third question, Christ shifts: “Simon, son of John, do you love me—phileis me?” He meets Peter where he is. He tells him it is okay to be who he is and to be comfortable in his skin.
Here comes the transformation of Peter: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” (John 21:17)
In his kapalpakan, being the impetuous, extroverted Peter, there was a deeper and more important thing that mattered. Peter’s passion and desire were, at their core, his love for Christ.
Christ patiently listened, and when the moment came, he led Peter to his true self, his authentic self.
In the end, in John 21, Christ tells Peter: “If you love me, you need to commit to follow me, and once you do, you have no other concern but to follow me.”
This is the Peter who becomes the leader of the early Church, the first pope. This is the integrated man who redirected his passions and desires, his love for Christ, to his mission to follow Christ. Mission is destiny.
But we must listen, be introverted in the midst of the “noise and haste” in a world that idolizes extroverts.
Hope
Paul is more of the extrovert between the two, but he also had his introvert moment in his conversion experience. The Lord knocks him down and lets him spend moments of introversion—not to stay there, but to reorient his passions and desires, to serve and follow Christ.
After this moment of introversion, he comes out swinging again as an extrovert, his passions and desires expressing themselves as one of the greatest evangelizers of the Christian church.
Peter and Paul represent the tension of our times on a global and personal level. They are poles apart: the introvert and the extrovert; the culture of character and the culture of personality; the laid-back spiritualism of the East and the gregariousness and materialism of the West; the barrios and the slums of the Third World and the highly urbanized cities of the developed countries.
It is in Peter and Paul that we also see hope. The tension is resolved by transforming it into a creative tension, out of which emerges not so much the new self, but the authentic self. Both focus on the key point: to follow Christ more nearly.
It is not a generic following of Christ, but one rooted in a personal relationship with Christ.
Like Peter and Paul, may we discover in our deepest passions and desires our love for Christ. And, like Peter and Paul, may we make the choice to follow him more nearly, with even greater passions and desires.
As Peter says, “I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk!”
As Paul says, “I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ who lives in me… I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and has given himself up for me.”
The integration point for us and the world is Christ—to see him more clearly, to love him more dearly, to follow him more nearly, he toward whom our deepest and greatest passions and desires are redirected.
