Carry It

In the tenth of his rules, Ignatius provides yet another tool to assist us in the discouraging times of spiritual desolation. And the rule reads as follows: when you are in spiritual consolation, remember that desolation will return at some point and prepare for it. Now, this reveals a presupposition that for Ignatius is a given in the spiritual life, and that is that there will be alternations of times of spiritual consolation and spiritual desolation—that this is normal in the spiritual life. So if you find that at times your prayer feels alive and God feels close and there's a warmth of God's love in your heart, and at other times all of that's gone and maybe there's just discouragement or lack of energy and so on, you are experiencing what is absolutely normal in the spiritual life. And there's no shame in this. There's no surprise in this.

What does matter is exactly what Ignatius is equipping us to do, and that is to know how to respond, identify the one and the other, and to know how to respond. So when we are, maybe for the last several weeks, prayer has been very consoled, God has felt very close, and there's been wonderful energy in the spiritual life. And we drink in that strength, and we're growing with it. A further benefit of that time, Ignatius says, can be to take some time just to remember that spiritual consolation won't last forever. At some point, spiritual desolation will return, and to store up strength for it and prepare for it, which will make all the difference.

It's like Egypt; it's like Joseph in the Book of Genesis. You have the seven years of plenty. Joseph stores up grain that he does not need, but which is crucial for survival in the seven years of famine that follow. So that's kind of the dynamic: looking ahead and preparing so that when desolation comes, it's much easier to get through it.

So, some concrete suggestions of things we might do in these days or weeks of spiritual consolation: maybe when you're just out walking, while you're exercising, during a quiet time sitting in chapel or alone in your room with the Lord, or maybe even a husband and wife talking together as they share the spiritual journey.

We can pray. We can pray for strength in future times of spiritual desolation. Ignatius told us in Rule Six we could do this in desolation itself, but we don't even have to wait for the desolation. We can do it in the peace of spiritual consolation. And also in the peace of spiritual consolation, we can meditate on those biblical verses or memories of God's fidelity in the past that will be therefore right at our spiritual fingertips when we need them in the spiritual desolation that will come.

In times of consolation, we can think about the value of spiritual desolation for growth, which is why God permits it. One author writes, without spiritual desolation, we would remain spiritual children, and there's a lot of truth in that. So just thinking about this in consolation will help us see the desolation much more clearly when it does return. We can also reflect on our own personal experience of how the dark, discouraging times in the past in our lives have often led to some wonderful growth, which was why God permitted them.

And having seen that in the past, when the desolation returns, we're much more likely to see that more quickly in the desolation itself. When we are in the peace of consolation, we can call to mind Rule Five: In time of spiritual desolation, never make a change, and confirm within ourselves the determination not to make such changes when desolation returns. We can also review these 14 rules, and I warmly encourage this. There are many resources.

We'll mention them before we end this series. Get familiar with the rules, learn more about them—whether through the written page or digital resources—and then review them from time to time so that they're fresh when you need them. And then finally, if there are specific situations in which you often get tripped up into spiritual desolation, plan ahead for them. Plan ahead even before they happen, and take in strength so that when those situations happen, we'll be better prepared for them. Rule 10 is another gem for the journey.

Prepare ahead of time, and spiritual desolation will not weigh nearly as much, and we'll get through it much more easily. And we will grow each time we do this. Our text for prayer at this time is the Crucifixion, Jesus on the Cross, and the whole of the text is Luke 23, verses 26 through 49. And I'm just going to read part of that text now as we share our prayer together. So again, let your heart be at peace.

Let it simply be open to the Lord. And again, see the infinite love, the warmth of that infinite love in the Lord's eyes as He looks upon you as you begin your prayer. When they came to the place called the Skull, they crucified Him and the criminals there, one on His right, the other on His left. Then Jesus said, "Father, forgive them. They know not what they do."

They divided His garments by casting lots. The people stood by and watched. The rulers, meanwhile, sneered at Him and said, “He saved others; let Him save Himself if He is the Chosen One, the Messiah of God.” Even the soldiers jeered at Him.

As they approached to offer Him wine, they called out, "If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself." Above Him, there was an inscription that read, "This is the King of the Jews." Now one of the criminals hanging there reviled Jesus, saying, "Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us." The other, however, rebuking him, said in reply, "Have you no fear of God, for you are subject to the same condemnation?"

And indeed, we have been condemned justly, for the sentence we received corresponds to our crimes, but this man has done nothing criminal. Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied to him, “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon because of an eclipse of the sun. Then the veil of the Temple was torn down the middle.

Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit.” And when He had said this, He breathed His last. The centurion who witnessed what had happened glorified God and said, “This man was innocent beyond doubt.” When all the people who had gathered for the spectacle saw what had happened, they returned home beating their breasts. But all His acquaintances stood at a distance, including the women who had followed Him from Galilee and saw these events.

And we are there now on Golgotha. The Cross. We see it in Jesus' life and in our own. And let us now accompany Jesus in His supreme moment of self-giving and ask Him for the courage to carry our cross too, to be faithful to the end as He is. We join the crowd as it pushes through the narrow streets.

I see the bustle, the agitation. I hear the clamor, the cries as we climb toward Golgotha. And I see Jesus scourged, crowned with thorns, condemned, rejected, mocked, carrying the Cross step by step along the way. I gaze at Him slowly with great attentiveness of heart. The image of Jesus carrying His Cross penetrates my soul.

And I remember the words: If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me. His Way of the Cross is mine as well, but not alone—with Him. Simon assists Him. What would that moment mean for Jesus, for Simon? The women weep for Him.

And astoundingly, even now, Jesus is not absorbed by His own pain but continues to be alive to the needs of others. Do not weep for Me. Weep instead for yourselves. And now He is crucified. I see the painful stripping.

I see the nailing of His hands and then His feet, the raising of the Cross. I hear His tormented breathing, and I think of the times that I have felt, or maybe even now feel, crucified in some way, stripped of what is dear to me, nailed helplessly in situations of pain when each day brings its burden and its pain. And I know that I am not alone. "They will look upon Him whom they have pierced," we read in Scripture.

And now I do this. I look upon Him whom they have pierced. I look upon the crucified Lord, and He looks at me. Our hearts speak. I hear His first word: Father, forgive them, and I linger here.

I ponder the forgiveness in the Heart of Jesus, and I ask for that forgiveness. And I ask that forgiveness be my first thought as well. But one heart turns to Him in faith: Jesus, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom. And I hear the wonderful response: Today you will be with Me in Paradise.

Now darkness falls. The curtain in the temple is torn. Jesus cries out with a loud voice, "Father, into Your hands, I commend My spirit." He gives up His life, faithful to the end. He has given all, everything now for me.

I thank Him. I speak to Him, perhaps of the many deaths in my own life, the losses of letting go. And now, in silence and stillness of heart, I contemplate the One who loved me so much that He gave His life for me. I remember a man telling me once that when he was praying with this moment of the Crucifixion, he found himself seated at the foot of the Cross. And as he sat there, the whole scene grew silent, and the presence of the others around him simply faded away.

And he was alone there with Jesus on the Cross. And as each drop of blood fell to the ground, he heard the soft sound that it made as it touched the earth. And each time he heard that sound, it told him how infinitely he was loved. And he stayed there, and his prayer continued at length. Ask for something of that grace.

Let each action of Jesus in His Crucifixion, each drop of blood, tell you how infinitely you are loved, how you are never alone, how God's grace blesses you and accompanies you in all the struggles and trials and crosses of life. And now as you pray, ask the Lord to show you what He is saying to your heart, how He is strengthening you, the newness to which He calls you, the assurance of being loved that He pours into your heart. May that blessing fill this day and always. Amen.