Robin Davis, author of the new book Recipe for Joy, reflects on the many places she finds God.

For more from Robin, see her answer One Question with Paul Campbell, SJ, over at People for Others.

Jesuits are known for their distinctive “way of proceeding.” Pope Francis is showing a distinctive way of speaking. Blogger Matthew Schmitz collects some of the striking phrases Francis has coined. It’s hard to imagine Benedict or even John Paul II talking like this:

“Babysitter church.” “When we don’t  [announce Jesus with our lives], the Church becomes not a mother but a babysitter church, which takes care of the child to put him to sleep.”

“Teenagers for life.” “How hard it is, in our time, to make the ultimate decisions! The temporary seduces us. We are victims of a trend that pushes us to the temporary . . . as if we wanted to stay teenagers for life!”

“Mr. or Mrs. Whiner.” “A Christian who constantly complains, fails to be a good Christian: they become Mr. or Mrs. Whiner, no?”

“Middle class of holiness.” “There are the saints of every day, the ‘hidden’ saints, a sort of ‘middle class of holiness’ to which we can all belong.”

“Charitable NGO.” “We can walk as much as we want, we can build many things, but if we do not profess Jesus Christ, things go wrong. We may become a charitable NGO, but not the Church, the Bride of the Lord.”

It’s something of a dilemma. On the one hand, Jesuits take a vow of poverty. On the other, as Nathan O’Halloran, SJ, wrote, “Jesuits in the United States usually dress like middle-class white men. We wear North Face and Patagonia and Keens and Chacos. We wear suits and ties and sometimes drive quite nice cars. We have flat screen TV’s and drink middle shelf scotch to relax.” But . . . Jesuits work in “the world.” Ignatius wanted Jesuits to live like the people they worked with.

O’Halloran’s blog post on the subject touched off a lively discussion about lifestyle. Some excerpts:

It seems to me that what is important is that religious do not acquire “stuff” or accolades for their own sake. If they come as a result of their work, accept it, say “thank you” and move on.

It’s also a challenge to us who live and work in poor countries. The house where I live is nice; my car usually works (and I have enough money to fix it); I can eat out; I have internet access; and so on. I feel all too comfortable.

The perception of authenticity is important, and unless you get to know Jesuits and spend time learning how they can live comfortably while keeping a vow of poverty, it is easy to scoff. I don’t think that Jesuit poverty has been evangelically effective for anyone I know.

Why is Ignatian spirituality appropriate for young people and seekers? It’s a spirituality that invites taking a moment to ask the deep questions: What am I living for? What am I hoping to get out of life? Do I have a purpose?

And then Ignatian spirituality gives us practices to help us get better asking and answering those deeper questions.

If you’re receiving this via e-mail, click through to watch the video Why Ignatian Spirituality Appeals to Young People.

The John Templeton Foundation has awarded a $3 million grant to Saint Louis University to study intellectual humility. This sounds right for the philosophy department at a Jesuit university.  Humility is central to the Ignatian tradition. (See articles by Joseph Tetlow, SJ, here and here.)  It seems that one of the problems encountered by those studying intellectual humility is identifying it. Those who have it aren’t likely to tell anyone else about it.  There are plenty of other interesting  facets to intellectual humility. Go here for a lucid discussion.

A tip of the dotMagis hat to Tim Merriman, who has included many of this blog’s Best Ignatian Songs on a Spotify playlist.  (Join Spotify and search for “Ignatian Songs.”)

Here’s one of Tim’s favorites–“That’s Why I Pray” by the country duo Big & Rich. The song is about prayer as a response to pain and suffering, beginning with humility:

Now I’m begging for forgiveness
I wanna make a difference even in the smallest way
I’m only one person, but I can feel it working
I believe in better days
That’s why I pray

Lyrics here.  Go here to watch the video on YouTube.

Ignatian spirituality seems to be all about looking. We look for God in the ordinary, in our feelings, in the people and things around us. But sometimes we look too hard for God rather than being aware of the surprise moments God’s presence is made known.

In the premiere episode of this season’s Mad Men, Peggy is trying to recover from a failed tag line for a TV commercial created for a set of headphones. Her team tries too hard throwing out one-liners in the effort to please her and the client. It’s like those who flip through the Bible as if a medicine cabinet, searching for the “perfect” verse that makes them feel good. We can’t go searching for God that way. Often, the grace of God comes in not looking.

Peggy discovers her grace without even looking. In their filming for the commercial, the actor wearing the headphones had some outtake moments, foolishly making faces as if singing to the music in the headphones. When Peggy sees this film she discovers a brand new way to approach the ad. The answer has come in the least expected of places: the discarded footage. This is how the God of surprises works. Rather than trying to force God’s grace, we must allow ourselves to be aware enough to see the grace already there. In Mad Men some of the characters’ best ideas come from out of the blue, when they’re not wracking their brains.

Awareness is not the same as looking. Looking tries to force answers and force God’s presence. Awareness, on the other hand, means we are open enough to let God make a move and attentive enough to recognize it. The same holds true for prayer. When we force prayer we often will not find God. But having a keen awareness means that we can recognize those moments when prayer just happens. This is what Ignatian spirituality is about, an awareness that opens our eyes to see God, who is always around us.

Today Loyola Press launches a new series called Arts and Faith, celebrating the many creative ways people use art to express their faith. The visual and performing arts invite finding God in ways beyond words, for both the artist and the audience.

The series will include profiles of several Jesuits and others inspired to “set the world on fire” through artistic media. We hope these stories will inspire you to find God’s presence in the creative activities you’re already doing, from photography and writing to sewing and cooking. And if you feel so inspired to share your story of using the arts in your spiritual life, please do so here.

While God seems to be woven into my daily life, it’s never when I expect it, like at the “holy” moments. I pray in the mornings but am sometimes distracted by my to-do list for the day. At Mass I want so much to focus and be transformed by the reality of what is happening, but too often I am halfway through Mass before I realize that I am still silently humming the opening hymn.

However, God and I have many unexpected conversations in daily life, especially at the grocery store. God comes to me in the lobby, the produce aisle, over by frozen foods, and last week, in the parking lot. I was returning to my car, trying to ignore the gray, bleak day—another in a long line of chilly non-spring days. With the season weeks behind schedule, everyone wants Spring and the warmth, flowers, and promise of new life it brings.

As I pushed my cart across the parking lot, I was startled to see the car next to me. Nestled at the windshield was a large bouquet of flowers. Flowers! Beautiful spring blooms tied with a bright blue ribbon. There they were, just waiting for owner to return to the car and discover them.

Who were they from? Who were they for? I drove home imagining the joy that someone had planning, buying the bouquet, and leaving it. Was the giver waiting a few rows of cars away to watch the reaction? Was there a note with it, of apology or perhaps a declaration of love? I could picture the joy and sense of being loved that the driver would feel to return to the car on this cold and overcast day and find a spring surprise.

I am always looking for a more direct communication with God, like a phone call or a letter saying how loved I am or what I should do with a problem. I got home wishing that God sent flowers and realized that, of course, he does. They are in the grocery store, on the windshield, and now even peeking out from the ground in our gardens.

God continues to surprise us with a shower of love and joy, enfolding us in the depths of his love whether we are aware of it or not. But sometimes, in a rare moment of clarity, I can see that love in other people and in the world around me. It seems to happen when I least expect it and perhaps most need it. The flowers on the windshield were a gift of love to me and to all who saw them.

“Arise, my friend, my beautiful one, and come! For see, the winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of pruning the vines has come, and the song of the turtledove is heard in our land.” (Song of Songs 2:10)

This video features a ministry that doesn’t make headlines; it’s humble service to people in distress in downtown Detroit. I like it for that very reason. It’s typical of many ministries run by volunteers walking an Ignatian path.

I like it for another reason too–the memorable name of the priest in charge: Patrick Francis Peter Ignatius Peppard. If the Jesuits had an all-name team, he’d be on it for sure. (Go here to watch it on YouTube.)