The military image of “soldier-saint” applied to Ignatius of Loyola and the Jesuits has given way to a more “mystical view” – how in contemplation he (and we)could experience the love of the Trinity, the love of God in creation, in the Eucharist and in the humanity of Jesus. Brian O’Leary SJ explains.
Since his death in 1556 Ignatius has often been described as a soldier-saint. Some statues and paintings have even depicted him in battle-dress, sword in hand. This is obviously because of the time he spent as a young courtier in the service of the king of Spain.
In particular, such iconography evokes his memorable defence of Pamplona against an invading French army. These images also recall his knightly vigil before the statue of the Black Madonna in Montserrat, when he left aside his elegant clothes and armour, committing his loyalty exclusively to Christ.
In turn, these early experiences were seen as influencing the way in which he structured and organised the Society of Jesus in his later life. In particular, the style of obedience that he wanted seemed to many to bear the hallmarks of a military model. Jesuits were seen as the ‘light cavalry’ or the ‘shock troops’ of the Roman Catholic Church.
A soldier-saint and a militarystyle religious order suited the militant spirit of the Tridentine period, from the Council of Trent to the Second Vatican Council. This image and ideology won the approval of Catholics, and instilled fear and loathing in Protestants.
Fading image
Over the last forty years or so this image of the soldier-saint has faded, if not totally disappeared. This is partly because it does not fit well with our more ecumenical attitudes where dialogue has replaced militancy.
Furthermore, historians and those who have studied the spirituality of the early Jesuits have also challenged the image of Ignatius the soldier-saint. It is true that the ethos of chivalry remained deeply ingrained in Ignatius and finds expression in his Spiritual Exercises, but what he clung to were the underlying values of chivalry: integrity, loyalty, service, compassion and dedication to a cause.
Mysticism
If not a soldier-saint, what might be a better way to describe Ignatius? One suggestion is offered by the title of a 1987 book by Harvey Egan SJ, Ignatius Loyola the Mystic. There is a growing consensus that this designation gets to the heart of who Ignatius really was, and enables us to understand why he did what he did. It draws us to revisit his Autobiography and his Spiritual Journal – which he kept during his later years in Rome – to see what he reveals of his inner life.
Of course the image of a mystic will never be as concrete or tangible as that of a soldier. Yet we have to avoid making it too ethereal or otherworldly. A mystic is not some blithe spirit floating above the drama of life. After all, the most-quoted statement by the twentieth century theologian, Karl Rahner SJ, is, ‘The Christian of the future will be a mystic or he will not exist at all.’
Mysticism – some prefer the less controversial ‘contemplation’ – has something to do with the experience of God. But can God be experienced? Some readers may have been brought up to answer ‘no’ to this question.
God is pure spirit, invisible, intangible and beyond us. God is Wholly Other, like nothing we have experienced or can experience on the human level. We come to know him only by faith, which is a kind of darkness, a kind of ‘unknowing’.
And yet! There have always been Christians who claim to have an experience of God, to know him personally, even to have a close relationship with him. Such Christians can tell us something of what God is like, or at least what he is like for them.
Universal call
They will, perhaps, only be able to convey this in stumbling words or symbols, or in art. But these people are pointing to a God they know, who is real for them. Like St. Paul they can say, ‘I know in whom I have believed’. This is not the vocation of the few, of an elite. The call to be a mystic is as inclusive as the universal call to holiness.
There are, of course, different levels on which people experience God, some deeper than others. Ignatius was gifted with many mystical experiences that were beyond the ordinary.
The Autobiography records that during his time in Manresa he had a series of five such experiences. He introduces them by saying, ‘At this time God was dealing with him in the same way as a schoolteacher deals with a child, teaching him…’
So it is with great assurance and conviction that he then refers to the gifts he received: an understanding of the Trinity, of how God created the world, of how Christ is present in the Eucharist, a vision of the humanity of Christ, and a vision of Our Lady.
He ends with this statement: ‘These things he has seen confirmed to him back then, and they always gave him such great confirmation regarding the faith, that he has often thought to himself that if there weren’t Scripture to teach us these matters of the faith, he would be resolved to die for them solely on the basis of what he has seen’.
While acknowledging how extraordinary these experiences of Ignatius were, we need to recognise that God also deals with each of us ‘as a schoolteacher deals with a child’. Like any good teacher God adapts his teaching to our personality, our capacity and our needs.
A revealing God
As we move through life, attending to God in prayer and serving him in our daily activities, God is gradually revealing to us also something of the mystery of the Trinity (God is a community), of creation (God made all things good), of the Eucharist (God shares his life with us) and of Christ’s humanity (Jesus is like us in all things except sin).
This is not some abstract teaching, but a self-revelation by God that invites us into a deeper relation of mutuality with him. Listening to him, accepting this invitation, responding with the gift of ourselves: this is to experience God, to become a mystic.
This article first appeared in the Messenger (October 2006), a publication of the Irish Jesuits.
