“You just have to trust!”: The last weeks of the General Congregation

The past two weeks of the General Congregation have been intense, tense, frustrating, exhilarating, a roller coaster of conflicting emotions. Sessions in the aula have become, at the same time, more tedious and more exciting. One fluctuates between uplifting consolation and discouraging desolation.

We are in the final stages of writing, arguing about, and approving the official documents of the Congregation. It is clear that we want to say something that will really be helpful for the life and mission of the Society. We want to say something that will be truly meaningful for our brother Jesuits and our many dedicated partners.

The problem is that, with our diverse personalities, contexts and concerns, we can differ so vastly and so passionately in our conceptions of what will be helpful and meaningful. The issues discussed are so important and delicate that these differences evoke much emotion.


Plus we have been at it now for eight weeks. Nerves aregetting frayed. It sometimes gets harder to listen and attempt to understand each other. The poor drafters of documents get clobbered with critique in the aula and then have to rewrite, incorporating our diverse and sometimes contradictory directives, and under enormous pressure of time. Translators of complex and not exactly short drafts (all drafts have to come out in English, Spanish and French) have to finish their difficult work virtually overnight.

PLUS the viruses have come back for a second round of malicious mischief, downing some of us again (like myself--I was out with fever again yesterday afternoon, but am better today, mercifully). In the quiet moments of prayer or reflection in the aula, the coughing and sneezing and hawking never stop. “This place sounds like a goshdarned (expletive softened) hospital!” one delegate remarked.

There have been moments of consolation however: moments of sudden illumination, of surprising consensus or unanimity of opinion, of clear unity in what matters most. These are moments when it is easy to believe in the presence and guidance of the Spirit.

In the midst of all this, I hold on to what one of the younger delegates from Spain told me a few weeks ago. After one particularly difficult session, as we were doing the inevitable post mortem on the dynamics and opinions, I asked him what he felt.

“You just have to trust!” he said spontaneously. He said it with such earnestness and from such an evident purity of heart that I felt ashamed of my negativity and was deeply edified.

That was some weeks ago. A few days ago, after another round of intense debate, I asked him as we both headed out of the aula: “You still trust?”

“All the more!” he said, with utter sincerity.

At moments like this, I know that the Spirit is speaking. I pray daily for patience, for trust, for a hopeful spirit, for love for the Society of Jesus and our partners, in whose service we are doing all this.

The Pope and the Artist, on Suffering and Being Human

What makes a person truly human? How does one measure the humanity of a society or culture?

Reading Pope Benedict XVI's recent encyclical Spe Salvi, I found a somewhat startling answer. For the Holy Father, the humanity of an individual or of a society is gauged by their response to suffering. "The true measure of humanity is essentially determined in relationship to suffering. . ." (38)

If a society closes its heart to those suffer and does nothing to help them, then it is "a cruel and inhuman society." (38) That is clear. But, the Pope goes on to say that when people seek to escape from suffering in their own lives, "when we attempt to avoid suffering by avoiding everything that might involve hurt," (37) when we choose convenience and comfort because being persons committed to truth, justice and love involves pain, then we become less than human too. "To suffer with the other and for others; to suffer for the sake of truth and justice; to suffer out of love . . . --these are fundamental elements of humanity, and to abandon them would destroy man himself." (39)

The Holy Father's insights are movingly depicted for me by two stations in Sieger Koeder's magnificent Stations of the Cross.

Koeder's second station depict a pair of hands holding a plank of wood that will eventually be the cross beam. When I contemplate these hands, I see in them weariness and exhaustion. After all, Jesus has already gone through arrest, a sleepless night of torture, and public judgment. The fingers, on one hand slightly splayed, hold the wooden beam but seem without strength to grip or clutch. Their uneven position, one hand higher than the other, suggests that the man holding it is not standing erect, but bent over or bowed down, perhaps using the cross beam as a support. There are traces of scars on the forearms and a hint of blood red towards the elbows, probably the edges of his sleeves, but suggestive too of what is to come.

Koeder has entitled this second station, simply, "Embrace." Jesus, in all his weariness, accepts suffering, embraces the cross, out of love.

Koeder's fourth station shows only hands again. But instead of the hands of one
person alone, we see hand touching hand on the wood of the cross. With reverent discretion, Koeder depicts Jesus' encounter with his mother on the road to Calvary. Jesus wears a blood red robe, and the position of his hands, one hand much higher than the other, once again conveys disorientation and weariness, suggests Jesus is clutching the wooden beam just to be able to stand. Mary is wearing a robe of spring green, a color suggesting freshness and life. One of her hands is lightly placed over Jesus'; the other is hidden, perhaps stroking Jesus' back, or gently touching his face. How they look at each other, what they say, what depth of grief or faith this encounter involves, is hidden from our view by Koeder's delicacy, as an exchange too private, too intimate to expose.

But Mary's hand upon Jesus' is enough. Koeder entitles his painting, "No words." It powerfully conveys the meaning of compassion: the capacity, deeper than easy or cheapwords of comfort, to share another's pain and in so doing, ease it. It illustrates Pope Benedict's explanation of the beautiful word "consolation," in Latin, "con-solatio": "It suggests being with the other in his solitude, so it ceases to be solitude." (38)

I think Koeder has purposely not shown any faces in these paintings. Jesus' refusal to run away from suffering and Mary's compassionate sharing of Jesus' pain become, not singular events that happened to two people two thousand years ago, but invitations to all people to the courage and compassion that alone can make us truly human. These are not just the hands of Jesus and Mary. They might, if we choose, be our hands.

Part of me resists Benedict's words and Koeder's images. I can get so tired that I want to run away from the suffering my life seems to involve. They are not great sufferings, to be sure; but sometimes the volume and frequency of aggravations and burdens, the load of responsibilities, seem a bit much. I can get so tired sometimes that I want to shut out all those who come to me with their pain and confusion and anger, and say, "Basta! Enough!Find someone else!"


My resistance leads me to a third painting. Koeder's fifth station, entitled "Unison," shows two men, Symon of Cyrene and Jesus of Nazareth, with one hand each holding up a single cross beam, and the other hand around the other's waist.

The question is: what will make it possible for me to accept suffering, my own or that of another? Koeder's painting illustrates beautifully the teaching of Pope Benedict. We can bear suffering with courage and hope because "in all human suffering we are joined by one who experiences and carries that suffering with us; hence con-solatio is present in all human suffering, the consolation of God's compassionate love--and so the star of hope rises." (39)

In this station, I am led to see that it is perhaps not so much Simon who is helping Jesus carry his cross, but Jesus who bears Simon's cross with him.

This Lent, the words of the Pope and the images of the Artist, invite me to prayer, and, despite my resistances, to deeper humanity.

A Deeper Well

The Sieger Koeder painting is entitled "Insight." It is a striking depiction of one of the loveliest and most multi-faceted stories in the Gospels, the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well. Sieger's rendition is an aid to contemplation, an invitation to the depths of the story.

In the waters at the bottom of a deep well, the woman sees a reflection that is surprising for two reasons. First, because the image of herself that she sees is that of a smiling, happy woman, even though there seems to be little trace of a smile on the face of the woman looking down into well. Secondly, because there is another face reflected in the waters, even though there appears to be only one person peering into the well's depths.

I think Sieger is depicting what has happened to this woman after her encounter with Jesus.

She is a woman who has lived on the surface. She has defined herself by the superficial judgments of the world she lives in. She is a woman, a Samaritan, an adulteress: all categories that make her understand herself as reprehensible and somehow second-rate. That is why she must draw water alone in the heat of noon, a time when all respectable women are at home with their socially acceptable families. That is why she responds to Jesus' innocent request for water with a tough, self-protective wariness that is aimed at discouraging deeper inter-action. That is why she engages him in the tiresome, old, unsubstantial theological debate between Jew and Samaritan about the proper place of worship. That is why she comes to the well day after weary day: what she draws is too shallow to ever fill a cavernous emptiness.

She has had five husbands, Jesus says. If this is meant literally, it suggests that she has run from one unsatisfying, shallow relationship to another. If this is meant symbolically, as St. Augustine suggests, then the "five husbands" refer to "her five senses," who have been her lords (as husbands were, in the patriarchal culture of the time), keeping her on the surface of herself and life.

At the end of the encounter, John notes a telling detail. When she runs into the village, she leaves behind her water jar. She has no need of it anymore.

Jesus' kind acceptance, his rejection of her own self-rejection, his patient, bemused willingness to engage her in dialogue, his courage in confronting her with her own superficial seeking, his offer and his promise of life-giving water: in short, his love for her, deep, gracious, abundant, lead her to a new vision of her self.

She looks into the deep well of her life. Beyond the shallow judgments, beyond the futile attempts to satisfy profound longings in petty ways, she sees herself always accompanied by a love that is inexhaustible in its depths and in its life-giving gifts.

I contemplate this painting, recall the story, hear the gracious invitation.

OFW Stories From Rome: Feb. 21, 2008

Last night, I once again had the privilege of addressing the leaders of the 46 Filipino Catholic communities of OFW’s here in Rome. This was the second recollection I had given the group, the first time being during Lent last year. As with last year’s recollection, the affair was organized by our kind and motherly Ambassador to the Holy See, Ambassador Nida Vera. As I told the group, I know there is always a good turn-out when Ambassador Vera sponsors a recollection. Everyone knows that she will provide a generous and tasty Filipino meal after the talk—and last night’s delicious dinner of pancit bihon, barbecue, chicken apritada and homemade cassava bibingka made the sacrifice of sitting through my talk worthwhile for all!

Beyond nourishment of the body, however, last night’s gathering was nourishing for my spirit as well. After the hours spent cooped up with Jesuits passionately debating the "great issues" of the Church and the world, it was good to touch base with our people again, to witness their faith and hear their stories.

Two stories, simply shared during the meal, touched me particularly.

Inday’s story

Inday, a middle aged woman from Bukidnon, with a college degree from Cagayan de Oro, is now cook and housekeeper for a wealthy Italian family. I noticed that her right hand was all bandaged. When I asked her about it, she explained that, while cooking for a dinner party that her Italian signora was hosting the other night, her hand slipped and she cut her right middle finger so deeply that it was nearly severed. Instead of rushing to the hospital, however, she asked her husband (the family chauffeur) to bandage her hand tightly, so she could continue cooking dinner.

I was flabbergasted. “Bakit hindi ka pumunta agad sa ospital? Baka naimpeksyon ka pa!” I scolded her. “E di paano yung signora ko kung hindi ako nakapagluto? Sampu yung bisita niya. Di napahiya siya sa bisita niya!” she responded indignantly, as if any right thinking person would see the clear logic of her choice.

One could argue with the prudence of her decision, but I could not help admiring her spirit. I saw in Inday a remarkable dedication to duty, perhaps verging on folly. Nonetheless, at a time when self-indulgence and personal convenience and inclinations are all too often the decisive motivating factors for choices, witnessing her tough, robust sense of responsibility awakened admiration. (Happily, the story ends well. The moment her signora found out about her finger, she insisted that Inday go the hospital immediately. The finger is on the mend.)

Rene’s story

A former soldier, probably in his mid to late fifties, now working as a domestic here in Rome, shared the second story. I had spoken earlier that evening on the Lenten theme of forgiveness. Rene (that is what I will call him here) sought me out at dinner because he wanted to share an experience my talk reminded him of.

Thirty five years ago, when Rene was a young soldier assigned to Mindanao, his best friend and fellow soldier was shot in some skirmish. Rene carried his friend forty kilometers to a hospital. Because the wounded man had lost a lot of blood, he donated his own blood too.

Alas, his kindness was not repaid. After his friend had gotten well, the two were drinking, and in the midst of a drunken argument, his friend pulled out a gun and actually shot Rene.

Rene was enraged by this betrayal. He wanted revenge. When his wound had healed, he found his chance. One day, he took his own rifle, trained his sights on his former friend, and was just about to shoot him . . . when his friend’s pregnant wife, seeing Rene aiming, placed herself between her husband and Rene. She begged him not to shoot for the sake of her unborn child. Rene faltered, and in a quick, agonizing moment of decision, pointed the nozzle of his rifle to the ground and fired there instead.

Four years later, Rene was on guard duty, when he saw a little boy, leading a goat by a rope. He asked the boy to move away from the camp gate, but the boy insisted. “Itong kambing po ay para sa binyag ko. Hindi daw kasi ako pwedeng magpabinyag kung hindi papayag yung ninong ko,” the boy explained.

“Sino ba yung ninong mo?” Rene asked.

“Kayo po,” the boy answered. “Sabi ng tatay ko, binigay niyo raw po yung dugo niyo para mabuhay siya. Kaya yung dugo ko raw ay dugo ninyo.”

His friend was waiting some distance away from his son. He wanted to ask forgiveness of Rene.

Rene, telling me the story thirty-five years later, could not hold back his tears. “Dugo ko raw yung dugo niya. E kung tinuloy ko yung pagbaril, di sana nabuhay yung batang yan!” he kept repeating.

Rene was clearly overwhelmed with awe. He had come so close to doing a terrible irremediable evil, yet God had preserved him in that split second when he was forced to choose between revenge and forgiveness. Despite his murderous rage, the sight of a pregnant woman awakened unexpected pity and humanity in him, and that made all the difference.


The fall of a sparrow

I went home last night, blessed by these two stories. They are little stories of little people: two humble domestic helpers in the great city of Rome. But Inday’s remarkable dedication to duty and Rene’s life-transforming decision not to return violence for violence are, to me, testimonies of quiet grace, of God’s discreet and freeing presence in the ordinariness of seemingly unimportant lives.

Jesus said that not a sparrow falls to the ground without his heavenly Father’s knowing it. In other words, not the smallest detail of our little lives escapes the gracious and kind notice of the Father. Inday and Rene reminded me of this hope-filling truth.

Pope Tells Jesuits: "The Church Needs You."

Yesterday, February 21, 2008, the delegates of GC 35 experienced with much consolation the personal support and affection of the Holy Father for the Society of Jesus, and received with deep gratitude the directions for mission he outlined for us.

Already the secular press has distorted the nature of our encounter with the Roman Pontiff. “Pope tells Jesuits: avoid confusion on sensitive issues,” one headline puts it. The story gives the impression that the tone and content of yesterday’s audience was one of stern reprimand on the part of the Holy Father (and presumably sullen or shamefaced silence on the part of the Jesuits). Nothing could be further from the truth.

One gets a far more adequate picture of what took place when one reads the entire message of the Holy Father, available on the Vatican Website, in the original Italian. It is an extraordinary message of appreciation, affection, and call to mission. The following summary from the Vatican Radio also gives a good sense of the Holy Father’s words to the Congregation and to the Society:

(21 Feb 08 - RV) Pope Benedict XVI addressed the Society of Jesus Thursday at the end of their General Congregation.

Father Adolfo Nicolas, the newly elected superior general of the Society of Jesus, headed the group as they met with the Pope at the end of their General Congregation.

Speaking to them the Pope underlined that the Congregation takes place in a period of great, social economic and political change:" a time of accentuated ethical, cultural and environmental problems, when we see every nature of conflict take place. And yet he remarked, "it is also a time of intense communication between peoples, of new possibilities in awareness and dialogue, of deep rooted aspirations for peace".

These, said the Pope, "are situations which call to the very heart of the Church and its capacity to announce words of hope and salvation to our contemporaries. A mission which over four and a half centuries ago gave birth through the Holy Spirit to the Society of Jesus". Pope Benedict told the Jesuit priests gathered before him Thursday: “the Church needs you, it counts on you and continues to trust in you to reach those physical and spiritual places where others fail to or have difficulty in reaching”.

The Holy Father said that on the one hand there is a world that is a “theatre where the battle between good and evil is waged”. An evil that hides behind the individualism of ideas which relativize the sacred, an evil that is propagated through a “confusion of messages”, which make it increasingly difficult to hear Christ’s Message, an evil which lies within “those situations of injustice” and conflict of which the poorest are the victims.

On the other hand there is "a religious order which in the course of its five hundred year history has been capable of challenging cultural historical adversities to bring the truly bring the Gospel to all corners of the world".

Today, noted the Pope, “the obstacles challenging those who announce the Gospel are no longer seas and vast distances, rather they are the boundaries of a superficial vision of God and of man, which place obstacles in the way of faith and human knowledge, faith and science, faith and the commitment to justice”. Faced with these boundaries, continued Pope Benedict, Jesuits must “witness and help create the understanding that there is instead true harmony between faith and reason”, a harmony that must be translated into the defense of those “central issues which today are increasingly under attack from secular culture”. In short marriage and the family, sexual morality and the question of mankind’s salvation in Christ.

Here the Pope invited the Jesuits to renewed reflection on the meaning of their characteristic “fourth vow” of obedience to the St Peter’s Successor, which he said “does not only imply readiness to be sent on mission to far off lands, but also in true Ignatian spirit – to feel themselves “with the Church and in the Church” – to love and serve the Christ’s Vicar as precious and irreplaceable collaborators at the service of the Universal Church”.

Pope Benedict XVI also expressed his deep gratitude for the Jesuits emphasis of aid to refugees. “Our choice to serve the poor is not an ideological one, but it comes from the Gospel. There are numerous dramatic situations of injustice and poverty in the world today, and if there is a need to fight against the structural causes of such situations, then there is also the need to fight the very roots of such evil found in the hearts of man, that sin which separates him from God, without forgetting to come to the aid of those who are in urgent need of help in the spirit of Christ’s Charity”.

The Holy Father concluded with praise and encouragement of the “precious and effective” instrument of Ignatian spiritual exercises”, and invited the gathered group to recite together with him the prayer composed by the Order’s founder, a prayer so great said the Pope, that I almost do not dare recite it: “Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will. All I have and call my own. Whatever I have or hold, you have given me. I return it all to you and surrender it wholly, to be governed by your will. Give me only your love and your grace, and I am rich enough and ask for nothing more.”

It is difficult to convey something that goes beyond the words of the Holy Father’s allocution. I refer to what the Spanish speakers among us call the sentido of this encounter: the sense of warmth, kindness, affection on the part of the Holy Father, and its return in kind by us. When he prayed the Sume et Suscipe at the end of his talk, one felt that he was not simply reading a text, but truly praying it from some deep place within, and many of us found this the most moving part of the encounter. As we had greeted the arrival of the Holy Father in the Sala Clementina with warm applause, so we received his inspiring speech with a spontaneous standing ovation and with applause that lasted for several minutes.

All through lunch and into the afternoon session, we found ourselves consoled and grateful. The Holy Father understands and appreciates the Society in a profound way. We welcomed his calls and challenges to mission with gratitude and readiness: his calls to renewed mission “to the frontiers,” to more serious formation of our members, to deeper fidelity to the Church, its pastors, and its teaching in the spirit of our Fourth Vow, to more courageous commitment to the dialogue between the Gospel and contemporary culture, to continued commitment to excellence and depth in our intellectual work in the service of the Church, to more effective service of the poor and displaced peoples, to more dedicated sharing of the riches of the Spiritual Exercises. Some of us even opined (only half jokingly, actually) that there was no need for us to write any further documents: the Pope had said it all for us!

The only error in the Vatican Radio report quoted above is to say that we met the Pope “at the end of [our] General Congregation.” We’re near the end, but not quite there yet! The inspiration and the encouragement of the Holy Father, however, has given us renewed energy, and we will get there!

The Grace of (Old) Friends in the Lord

A couple of hours ago, I returned from a pizza dinner with an old Jesuit friend who is also a delegate of his Province at the General Congregation. Fourteen years ago,in 1994, Hans Zollner and I lived in the British Province Novitiate in Birmingham, England. We were the only two foreigners in the community. I was a young priest in the middle of doctoral studies, poring daily over early 19th century manuscripts in the John Henry Newman archives in Birmingham. Hans was a German scholastic, a year away from ordination, learning English. When I visited Munich that summer of 1994, Hans, who had returned home, met me there and brought me to lunch with his parents (who spoke not a word of English) in the nearby city of Regensburg.

Today, Hans, with a graduate degree in psychotherapy from the Gregorian and a doctorate in theology from Innsbruck, teaches and practices psychotherapy at the Institute of Psychology of the Gregorian University here in Rome.

We decided to go out for a bit of fresh air, after a day of very intense work: many meetings for me, and a full day of rewriting a draft document for Hans. Interestingly, Hans worked the whole day with one other member of the General Congregation, an Irish Jesuit named Jim Corkery, who is also a delegate for his Province.

I say "interestingly" because Jim and I lived in the same small Jesuit community in Washington, D.C. (called Carroll House) for about three years in the late '80's and early '90's. We were both doing graduate studies in theology at the Catholic University of America. Looking back, it is possible that I learned more philosophy and theology from our intense lunchtime discussions with Jim and one or two other members of the community than from the lectures at the University. (That may be something of an overstatement, but not much.)

Today, Jim is Superior of a community in Ireland and a professor of theology at Milltown Institute in Dublin. He did his doctoral dissertation in the early nineties on a German theologian named Joseph Ratzinger. Today, Jim is obviously a "hot item," being one of the world's experts on the theology of Pope Benedict XVI.

A year after Jim (having finished his doctorate) left Carroll House, his place in our community was taken over by a young Korean Jesuit named Joon Ho Chae, who was doing his doctorate in pastoral counseling at the nearby Columbia campus of Loyola College Baltimore. I particularly welcomed Joon Ho, also known as Matthias, because his Korean friends regularly supplied him with large cartons of Korean noodles, which I helped myself liberally to, often without Matthias' prior permission! Today, Matthias Chae is the Provincial of the Korean Province, and is here too at GC 35.

In fact, there are five of us from that small community here at GC 35. Geoff King, former director of EAPI in Manila, an Australian canon lawyer, lived there in the late '70's. Tom Krettek, who had left the year I arrived in Carroll House, is now Provincial of Wisconsin. As Jim Corkery, referring to our beloved Carroll House, put it so well: "Who would have thought that so much good would have come out of that hotbed of neuroses?"

What is the point of these rambling recollections? In this Congregation, I have felt so at home, surrounded, not only by these brother Jesuits I have lived with in the past, but by so many others with whom I have shared community and mission in the past few years: in two long meetings in Loyola, Spain, in 2003 and 2005; in the several weeks of "charm school" in Rome for new Provincials in 2004; in the nearly two months of work together in the Preparatory Commission for this Congregation. And in the past month and half here in Rome, I have met many other wonderful Jesuits.

Thus, tonight, I give thanks again for my Jesuit vocation. I marvel at how God's providence leads us in the Society of Jesus, from so many diverse cultures and nations, to each other, then away from each other, then makes paths cross again. I thank God, that in a world of Kosovo's and Kenya's, where race and tribe murderously divide, in the Society, it is possible for men of different cultures to become and remain, through many years and despite great distances, real friends in the Lord.

This is particularly important for me to remember as the Congregation comes to its last few weeks. Our diversity can be so real and so palpable, at times even disconcerting. In our aula discussions, we try (and generally succeed) to be respectful and open, but more than one Jesuit has come to me over the past month and a half, disturbed by how sometimes, our perspectives, our sense of priorities, even our theologies differ so. In a sense, there is no help for this. Where we come from, what challenges we face day by day, whether we are from Africa or from Eastern Europe, all these profoundly shape our ideas and convictions. One day, after listening to an impassioned intervention from one Jesuit, I could not resist taking him aside in private to remind him (hopefully in a kind way), that the reality of the world is not simply reality of his continent.

Hans and I talked about this diversity tonight. And he reminded me of one of the most important documents of our Jesuit heritage, the Deliberation of the First Fathers. This is the record of the discernment of Ignatius and his first companions, as they asked themselves whether it was God's will that they start a new religious order or not. Their conclusion remains deeply relevant and comforting to me in these final weeks of the Congregation: the companions decide to begin a new Order, because, although they are "weak men," and "from such diverse cultures and natures," in the end, it is "God who has brought us together."

Being Far From Home

Today, being Sunday, is a day of rest for us: no meetings, no debates, nothing to write or plan. I have had the chance to catch up on emails and texts from home, and to read up on the events that are unfolding thousands of miles away from Rome in Manila.

It is tough being away from home at a time of crisis. Part of me wants to be there, as things are happening that may affect the future of our country. My fellow board members from the AMRSP (Association of Major Religious Superiors) have been texting me all morning, telling me about Manoling Francisco's powerful homily in La Salle, expressing a wish that I was there with them. Of course, I wish I was there too.

This is the second time this has happened to me in the last few months. Last November, 2007, I was here for a meeting of the Preparatory Commission, and I was awakened in the early hours of the morning by texts informing me of the events at the Manila Pen. Now, in February 2008, I am once again in Rome, unable to participate or make a contribution, except through messages of solidarity and through prayer.

What strikes me now, however, is that this will be the way it will be for me in the next few years.

As this fact strikes me, three reflections come to mind. First, there is liberating realization that I am not indispensible. This is not false humility, but a freeing sense that God can do what he wants to do for our country, without me. Reading various statements from home, such as the statement of SLB or Manoling Francisco's powerful homily, I rejoice to see my brother Jesuits, my fellow religious, my fellow Filipinos responding with passion, courage and intelligence to the present crisis. I feel called to a deeper detachment from self, and a purer trust in the resources of our people and God's grace.

Second, I realize that my new assignment includes a call to widen the scope of my concern. Yes, many things are happening in the Philippines. But here in Rome, among my brother Jesuits from all over the world, I hear about the struggles of so many other peoples and nations. My new assignment here thus involves an invitation to widen the horizons of my heart, so that my concern reaches out to the political unrest and hopelessness in East Timor, to the senseless violence in Kenya, to the daunting battles against mining and enviromental degradation in Bolivia, in Zambia-Malawi, in India--to name but a few concerns that I have heard my brothers speak about in the past week.

Finally, I believe the Lord is reminding me that I can help my country from here by ministering in some way to the Filipino migrant workers here. There are 40,000 OFW's in Rome alone. This coming Thursday evening, I am giving a recollection again for the leaders of the 48 Filipino communities here. In the past year, whenever I was in Rome, I would say Sunday Mass in the Center for Filipinos in the ancient Church of Santa Pudenciana. I was always struck by how easy it was to bring the congregation to tears. Perhaps because of the difficulties of their situation, the tears of our people are so near the surface, so that the slightest word of hope or sympathy, the most modest reminder of God's compassion and care, is enough to open the flood gates.

There is, after all, a way to serve even though one is far away from home. I pray that I may accept these invitations readily and generously.

The Wit of Our Generals, February 16, 2008

We are in the midst of slogging through various draft documents, a process that is as entertaining as pulling teeth. We sit for hours in the aula, listening to each other praise or criticize various drafts, from very diverse perspectives, in different languages, in interventions of varying degrees of coherence and intelligence.

You have to find a little humor to survive, and people have taken to placing funny icons and pictures in their power point presentations, just to introduce a bit of laughter into the hall.

I have found, in the midst of this work, a ray of light in the humor of our Generals past and present.

On Valentine's Day, for example, in the midst of our debates, a normally mild mannered delegate (we shall name him Fr. X), made a forceful intervention, asking that we stop what seemed to him pointless discussions, and just allow the drafting committee to continue re-writing. His comment was noted by the moderator, but the discussion went on, till another delegate took up Fr. X's suggestion again and was supported this time by spontaneous and loud applause from the Aula. In what amounted to a minor colpo di stato (coup d'etat), the body was able to vote ourselves into an early dismissal from the session!

During pranzo (lunch), Fr. Kolvenbach, in his distinctive accent, wryly commented: " I never realized Fr. X had such a revolutionary spirit. It must have been the spirit of St. Valentin!"

On that same day, I had made an intervention, asking the drafters whether there was a historical basis in the Ignatian tradition to speak of an "effective and affective" bond, etc. That got a whole discussion started on what an "affective bond" might possibly mean. Anyway, yesterday, after I had chaired the whole day's aula sessions, Fr. Kolvenbach walked past me in the corridor, but paused long enough to say with a smile: "Thank you for your very efficient . . . or should I say, your effective and affective . . . moderating." Obviously, he had been listening!

Finally, this morning, at our early morning Coordinating Committee meeting, our new Fr. General, Fr. Nicolas, asked me how I was. I confessed that I was still coughing badly after three weeks, and that, in fact, last night, I could not sleep well because of my persistent cough. "Maybe this is a sign," I said, trying to sound casual, "that I'm not meant for Rome." He replied very quickly: "Too late!"

I guess it was worth a try.

My New Assignment: Feb. 12, 2008

This morning, after prayers in the Aula together, Fr. General Adolfo Nicolas announced the names of nine Jesuits who would form the core of his General Council. Each of the nine was assigned as a Regional Assistant: that is to say, each would help Fr. General in his governance of a specific geographic region of the Society of Jesus (called an “Assistancy,” in Jesuit jargon). Each would also be a General Counselor, that is, someone who would help Fr. General in his supervision and care over the whole Society.

Fr. General appointed me one of his General Counselors, and Regional Assistant for East Asia and Oceania. This Assistancy covers the Provinces of China, Japan, Korea, Vietnam, the Philippines, Indonesia, and Australia, the regions of Malaysia-Singapore, Thailand, Micronesia, and East Timor, and the missions of Myanmar and Cambodia. As Regional Assistant, I will have to visit the men and our apostolates in this area; help Fr. General with the requests, reports and other correspondence that come from the region; give him the advice he needs on decisions that will have to be made, on personnel, houses, communities, finances, ministries, and the like. As General Counselor, I am supposed to “collaborate with the General” and his other counselors, on policies, decisions, and implementation of those decisions, concerning the universal Society. (Cf. No. 382, Complementary Norms).

The Process of Selection

What was the process that led to this appointment? Last Ash Wednesday, the delegates of GC35 broke into Assistancy discussion groups in order for each Assistancy to come up with a terna, a list of three names to be submitted to Fr. General, as possible candidates for Regional Assistant and General Counselor for our respective regions. Guided by a list of desired qualities provided us by Fr. Nicolas, our conversation that day was an experience of consoling spiritual freedom in discernment. This is not to say that it was not difficult.

We discussed many Jesuits as possibilities, some present among us, many more not among our number. What really stood out, however, was the spirit that I had already experienced in our search for a new General: a spirit of real love for the universal Society and a deep desire to help the General for the sake of Society and its mission, even if it meant sacrifices for the persons involved and their respective Provinces.

On Thursday, after some quiet time for prayer and a little more time for one-on-one conversations, our Assistancy group voted and formed a terna. My name was on the list submitted to Fr. General. From Friday to yesterday, Fr. General spoke to many people, as part of his process of making final decisions. He spoke with me on Friday morning. This morning, he announced his decision.

There is one final process remaining. From the nine of us, or from any other professed member of the Society, the General Congregation will choose four as Assistants ad Providentiam. These four members of the General’s Council will have a special care for the person of the General and his capacity to govern the Society well. The Constitutions and Complementary Norms give a fuller description of the role of the Assistant ad Providentiam. At any rate, from today till Friday, all the electors of the General Congregation will be involved in murmurationes about possible candidates, even as we struggle along with our present work of discussing and drafting documents. This Saturday, February 16, the Congregation will elect the first two Assistants ad Providentiam. On Monday, we will elect the last two.

When that process is done, the General will have his basic team in place. He will probably assign a few more Counselors, probably with more sectoral (rather than regional) portfolios, such as a Counselor for formation. But that will depend on the General’s priorities and his sense of the assistance he needs from the universal Society.

The Next Few Months

I am very grateful that Fr. General has kindly given me up to about a year to prepare for this new assignment. After the General Congregation, I will go home, to tie up loose ends, but mostly, to set in motion the search process for a new Provincial. Because this process will probably involve a “domino effect” (once a new Provincial is chosen, another process will have to begin to look for a successor for whatever position the new Provincial will have vacated, etc.), this may take several months. During those months, the General has also said that he may require me to attend some meetings in Rome.

If all goes well, however, perhaps the Province will have a new Provincial around the time the new school year begins or sometime soon after that. I hope to ensure that the transitions and changes my new assignment will set off in the Province will not be too disruptive. After my successor is installed, the General has graciously allowed me a few months of “mini-sabbatical.” I should be back in Rome ready to start my new mission by around January 2009.

Some Personal Notes

I think my deepest regret is that the Province will have to be inconvenienced because of my new mission. It is clear that this assignment means, not just a little sacrifice on my part, but also sacrifice on the part of the Province. Plans for the future now have to re-adjusted, and will involve some disappointment and dying to self on the part of others beyond myself. I am consoled however that Fr. General and other members of the Congregation have acknowledged and expressed gratitude for the “sacrifice” on the part of the Philippine Province. I am deeply consoled too by the response of many Jesuits and lay partners from our Province who have texted or emailed me, expressing their sadness but also their strong desire to subordinate the good of the Province to the good of the universal Society, their simple acceptance of the will of God.

After Mass this evening, I laughed when a smiling American Jesuit came up to me and said, “Had a life-transforming day today, have you?” In truth, however, I have found myself remarkably strengthened by the kind responses of my brother Jesuits here in Rome. It was funny to walk down the corridor this evening and hear the venerable Fr. Jacques Gellard, Assistant ad Providentiam and Admonitor of Fr. Kolvenbach, greet me, with a kind of benevolent amusement in his voice: “Good evening, Fr. Assistant.” So many brother Jesuits here, from so many different countries, have expressed good wishes and promised prayers, and I have been deeply touched by the sincerity and brotherhood behind their words. I was very moved too by a few, including some I respect very much, surprising me by saying: “I am very happy that you are part of the Council.” I confess feeling overwhelmed and humbled by their apparent confidence in me. Most strengthening for me was to hear a few Jesuits say words to this effect, “Thank you for accepting this sacrifice, this service, for the sake of the Society.” These last, to me, understood best.

Will I be able to learn Italian now that I am 48, going on 49? Will I learn it well enough to function at the level I am expected to, or at least, so I don’t feel like a total outsider in this country that I will have to call home for several years? Those are some of the petty little worries that buzz around in my brain like annoying flies from time to time. But, on the whole, I thank God that I am at peace, grateful that I can serve Fr. General and the Society in this new way. I trust that if this is God’s will that I am accepting, He will take care of me and of the Province, and He will guide me along the way that unfolds from this day.

Philippine Province Jubilee in Rome

Yesterday, Feb. 2, 2008, the Filipino Jesuits here in Rome were in joyful solidarity with our Province in celebrating the 50th anniversary of our (re)establishment as a Province in the Society of Jesus. We began with Mass here in the Curia at 6 PM. Fr. Ben Nebres (the only one among us Filipinos who had actually been alive and in the Society 50 years ago!) preached and presided. Our brothers from the East Asia and Oceania Assistancy joined us. After the Eucharist, the Filipinos treated our guests to a modestly priced, but extremely filling and tasty dinner in a Chinese restaurant near the Vatican, somewhat unimaginatively named Ni Hao. After dinner, we walked to a nearby Gelateria named Oldbridge which is the favorite of our Ambassador to the Holy See. After sampling the gelato, we understood why! Walking back together to the Curia through the Piazza di Risorgimento, enjoying our Gelato-filled cups or cones (oddly, because we were bundled up against the winter chill), was the final, happy stage of our celebration.

Fr. Ben’s homily

Fr. Ben preached a very moving homily, beginning first with amusing personal anecdotes describing life in the Philippine Vice-Province in the ‘50’s, and then, reflecting on the graces we have received from the Lord in the past 50 years as a Province. Fr. Ben invited us to thank God for so many blessings. He recalled the gift of leaders like Fr. Frank Clark, who, at the cost of much personal suffering, became a symbol, after his term as Provincial, of openness to the changes of Vatican II. He also pointed out our indebtedness to Fr. De la Costa, the first Filipino provincial, who, again at the cost of much personal anguish, managed to keep us a single province during the painful days of nationalism and antagonism between Filipino and American Jesuits. He spoke about the grace the Province has received of having contributed significantly to the nation, as in the EDSA revolution, in which Philippine Province Jesuits played key roles. He thanked God for the important legacy of the New York Province, which gave the Philippine Province the tradition of strong intellectual formation and special studies, as well as leaving the Province with a financial viability that has lasted 50 years. He reminded us of the grace of our schools, which have grown so much in the past 50 years, not just in numbers, but in an orientation of building up the nation and serving the poor. He invited us to be grateful for the attention the Province has given to formation over fifty years, for the Province’s courage in making radical changes in formation programs, and for how these programs have formed not just Jesuits, but also lay partners and diocesan priests. Finally, Fr. Ben spoke of the grace of our long and ongoing tradition of having served the bishops of the Philippines, many of whom are our alumni, and who are bound to us by ties of mutual affection, respect and trust. Because of this humble but important service to the bishops, we can be grateful that the Province has made a real and positive impact on the Church in the Philippines over the past fifty years.

What struck me was the great interest our brothers from East Asia gave Fr. Ben’s homily. I had thought that only the Philippine Province Jesuits would really appreciate Fr. Ben’s words. But right after the Mass, Fr. Matthias Chae, the Provincial of Korea, came up to me to tell me how had enjoyed all the stories, and had wanted Fr. Ben to tell more! And on the way to the Chinese restaurant, Fr. Shogo Sumita, Provincial of Japan, walked beside me because he wanted me to tell him more stories about the Philippine Province!

The Litany of Thanksgiving

For me, the unexpected and deeply consoling grace of that Eucharist came during the Prayers of the Faithful. I heard an unplanned litany of thanks for the Philippine Province.

Fr. Louis Gendron, Provincial of the Chinese Province, began by recalling how, when the Jesuits from China were expelled by the Communists, the Jesuits in the Philippines welcomed them, even giving them their own houses, as well as other facilities. He thanked God for the Philippine Province, because it made it possible for the Chinese Province to survive.

Fr. Renzo de Luca, from the Japanese province and a historian of Christianity in Japan, followed up by pointing out how some hundred years ago, the Philippine Province had also been a refuge for the Jesuits from and going to Japan. Again he thanked God for this tradition of hospitality of the Philippine Province.

Fr. John Mace, the Major Superior of East Timor, continued this theme of thanksgiving for the hospitality of the Province, personally experienced by him during the decade when he was Rector of Arrupe International Residence. He recalled with gratitude how graciously the Philippine Province welcomed the project of an Assistancy scholasticate, even giving the land for the house. He thanked God for our Province, because not only are we assisting the Assistancy missions by sending Filipino Jesuits to places like East Timor and Cambodia, but we have also contributed much to building the future of the Jesuit mission in Asia through formation.

The theme of formation became the next focus. Fr. Riyo Mursanto of Indonesia humorously referred to the “Mafia” in Indonesia of Jesuits who had received their philosophical or theological formation in Manila. Fr. Larry Tan, regional superior Malaysia-Singapore, similarly remembered all the Jesuits in Malaysia-Singapore who had been formed in Manila. Fr. Matthias Chae mentioned all the groups of Korean scholastics who had learned English in Manila. All three prayed in gratitude for the contributions of our Province in the formation of their men.

We had a “guest” at Mass, a Canadian Jesuit named Pierre Belanger, who is part of the communications team for GC 35. I was surprised when he chimed in with a prayer of thanksgiving for the creative and impressive work of Jesuit Communications in the Philippines, and prayed that this ministry continue to be blessed!

I was consoled as much as I was surprised, because I had not thought about the things our brothers from East Asia expressed gratitude for. As I listened, I felt a bit overwhelmed at all that God had made it possible for the Philippine Province to do for the Society of Jesus in Asia. I was also secretly glad that I had not counted this service to the Society in Asia in my inner inventory of God’s blessings to our Province. It suggested to me that we had welcomed and helped our brothers “naturally,” without thought or calculation, simply as a normal part of our being Jesuits.




The gift of holy Jesuits


Without planning it, I offered the final intention during the Prayers of the Faithful. I shared the prayer of thanksgiving that had been with me all of yesterday: my gratitude for the grace of holy Jesuits in the Philippine Province. Over fifty years, despite our weaknesses and defects, God has succeeded in raising up men of holiness in our Province. I recalled Fr. Charlie Wolf, a man of amazing spiritual depth, simplicity and compassion. I recalled Fr. Eddie Hontiveros, who, after composing the hundreds of songs that earned him the unofficial title “Father of Philippine liturgical music,” suffered in silence for seventeen years after a debilitating stroke removed his ordinary powers of speech—suffered in silence, but also with inexplicable joy and peace. I thanked God for these miracles of His grace, who powerfully remind me that God is with us and at work in the Province, and who continually invite their brother Jesuits to live up a little more authentically to our Jesuit ideals.

Because I felt self-conscious that I had already spoken a bit too long, I did not mention the second part of my prayer. But I prayed it in my heart. I prayed for our young men, that, by God’s grace, they too might become like our saints in the Province, always close to the love of God that makes us ever freer to serve and to follow His will.

That, of course, is a prayer, for the next fifty years.