Thursday, June 13, 2024

Flame Bearing | St. Xavier and the Society of Jesus Movement

 

Sitting with a modern St. Xavier

O God,
grant that we may desire You,
and desiring You seek You,
and seeking You find You
and finding You be satisfied
in You forever.
+ St. Xavier

I was recently reveling in the best smash burger in Worcester (see Smash Burger at Peppercorn's) with my beloved son and sharing with him how I was enjoying learning more about his namesake, St. (Francis) Xavier, a Jesuit and Roman Catholic priest who was one of the greatest witnesses to Jesus' Gospel of the Kingdom in all of human history. Michael Frost, in his marvelous book, Mission Is the Shape of Water, shares this about St. Francis Xavier:

St. Francis Xavier,
one of the seven founders of 
the order of the Jesuits,
is thought to be one of the 
most effective evangelists
of Christian History ...
he has converted more people
to Christianity than anyone
since St. Paul.

After highlighting pivotal moments in human history in which St. Patrick and the Celtic Missionary Movement (400s), St. Benedict and the Cistercian Monasteries (500s and 1100s), and Count Z and the Moravians (1700s) warmed multitudes of people, young and old, to the flame of Christ around the world, I now want to take a moment to honor my son, Xavier, who shines in all sorts of illuminating ways, and St. Francis Xavier's reflection of Jesus (1500s) that continues to reach new people via this excerpt from Frost's Mission Is the Shape of Water. The story starts with a Spanish courtier and soldier.

Iñigo López de Ońaz y Loyola

By his own account, Iñigo wasn't a particularly likeable young man. In 1521, while defending the fortress town of Pamplona, Spain, a French cannonball shattered his leg. The army doctors didn't set the leg properly, and the protruding bone created an ugly lump under the skin. So, he insisted on having the leg rebroken and rest. Without anesthetic, of course. The consequence was that his injured leg ended up shorter than the other, leaving the once-dashing Iñigo with a limp for the rest of his life.

He had grown up in the castle of Loyola, the thirteenth child of Don Beltrán Yañez de Oñaz y Loyola — a brash, free-spirited womanizer who had fathered several children by other women. Iñigo's grandfather was an even more shadowy character, regularly in conflict with the crown. But as landed gentry, society let them get away with bad behavior. Iñigo figured that being a courtier of Loyola allowed him to flout convention and behave any way he liked. And he did. He paid more attention at dancing and fencing classes than academic ones. Like his father, he became a dandy, a womanizer, and sensitive to insult.

But things changed after the siege of Pamplona. While recovering in his castle after his broken leg was reset, Iñigo began to experience visions and moments of spiritual euphoria. This was extremely out of character; normally he fantasized about beautiful women or personal glory. Now St. Francis of Assisi and St. Dominic visited him in his dreams. He started reading John Fleetwood's illustrated Life of Christ and a book of saints' legends.

Everyone agreed that
something very strange was happening.
At thirty years of age,
having shown no prior interest
in spiritual matters,
Iñigo began to devote himself
to serving Christ
 — 
a process that took 
nearly two decades
and included
intense study,
pilgrimages
and
submission 
to a rigorous system
of what he called

This was a vocation to which he felt himself eminently unqualified. Due to his disinterest in formal education as a child, he was barely literate. He was forced to start his education all over, sitting in classes with people much younger than himself ... The dashing, arrogant courtier turned into a humble, limping monk. He joked that he had turned from a beautiful butterfly into an ugly caterpillar. While a student at the University of Paris, though he was then in his forties, Iñigo developed a close bond with several other devout younger men — including Francis Xavier (a fellow Spanish nobleman) and Peter Faber. It was at this time that Iñigo began calling himself by the Latin, Ignatius. 

Our Church Speaks: An Illustrated Devotional

Ignatian Spirituality Based on the Gospels

The group acknowledged Ignatius as their leader and embraced his spiritual exercises as their collective rule. Together they were to form the nucleus of what would later become a religious order known as the Society of Jesus — or, more popularly, the JesuitsApproved as an official religious order by Pope Paul III in 1540, the Jesuits wanted to elect Ignatius as their first leader. He declined after the first vote, believing his vanity and the licentiousness of his earlier life disqualified him. He also knew most of his companions were far more theologically knowledgeable. However, they insisted, and eventually he accepted the position and served until his death sixteen years later.

Ignatian spirituality
is based on the Gospels and
on St. Ignatius Spiritual Exercises
... The Exercises culminate in a
contemplation whereby one
develops a facility to
The Jesuits' motto is 
ad majorem Dei gloriam
("for greater glory of God").

I can't begin to recount
the enormous influence
the Jesuits have had on
global Christianity.

Theologians such as Karl Rahner and Hans Urs von Balthasar; philosophers, including Pierre Teilhard de Chardin; writers such as Gerard Manley Hopkins; and martyrs, missionaries, and even Pope Francis, have all been influenced by the Jesuit flame, which has illuminated far-flung peoples and places of Jesus' Church.

Today, the Ignatian Exercises
still offer many a means of
finding freedom through recognition
that God loves us,
wherever we are
and whatever we have done.

Ignatian spirituality aims
to help people overcome preoccupation
with self and turn their energies
to serving others.

Their commitment to flame bearing
has made the Jesuits
an extraordinary missionary force
throughout the world.
St. Frances Xavier, 
one of the seven founders of the order,
is thought to be one of the
most effective evangelists of
Christian history.

St. Francis Xavier Loves East Asia

Francis was born Francisco de Jasso y Azpilicueta in 1506 in Javier (Xavier in Navarro-Aragonese), in the Kingdom of Navarre (present-day Spain). He was was the third son of the president of the council of the king of Navarre. Ignatius provided the order's central leadership, but Francis went on to be its most effective evangelist. Historian Stephen Neill said of him, 

"To a passionate
but disciplined nature, 
profound devotion, and an
eager longing for the salvation of souls,
Xavier added the wide outlook 
of the statesman and
the capacity of the strategist
for organization on a large scale."

The Jesuits quickly became so successful in their ministry of preaching and care of the sick throughout central Italy, that they were approached by King John III of Portugal, who commissioned Francis Xavier to evangelize people in his new Asian dominions. In 1542, Francis set out for Goa in West India, the center of Portuguese activity in the East. He spent three years evangelizing pearl-fishing communities along the coast, baptizing around ten thousand of them. While in India, Francis turned the Jesuit creed into poetry for recital by the Goans. Out of this sprang a vibrant indigenous tradition of music and dance in Indian churches. Francis moved his center of operations to Malacca on the Malay Archipelago, preaching to tribal people in the Spice Islands (Moluccas). 

During this time,
Francis met a Japanese man
named Anjirō, a samurai warrior
who had been charged with murder
and fled his homeland.
Anjirō had heard of Francis
and traveled from Kagoshima
to Malacca specially to meet him.
He told Francis extensively
about his former life and the customs
and culture of his homeland.
Anjirō became the first Japanese Christian
and adopted the name of Paulo de Sante Fe.
As a result of meeting Anjirō,
Francis's eyes were now fixed on 
taking the flame of the gospel to Japan.

And so, in 1549, Francis, Anjirō, and several companions arrived in the Japanese port of Kagoshima. Francis was deeply impressed with the Japanese people, but he had to adapt his missionary methods to reach them. When evangelizing the Paravas (the Goan pearl fishers) and the Malays, his vow of poverty impressed them greatly. But the Japanese were repelled by such humility, thinking him unworthy of their attention. So, Francis pivoted. He abandoned any outward expression of poverty for a kind of asceticism more attractive to the Japanese. In 1551, when the Japanese church had grown to two thousand converts, Francis returned temporarily to India, leaving the church in the care of his companions.

If you look at a map of 
Francis Xavier's world journeys,
you will be astonished by his 
extensive itinerary.
While many of us struggle to
Francis was instrumental in
the growing wildfire of Christianity,
taking the gospel to India, Japan,
the Malay Peninsula, and the
Moluccan Islands (Indonesia).
Owen Chadwick wrote of Francis Xavier:

He was a man of sudden decisions
or insights or enthusiasms,
always eager to be 
penetrating new ground
and converting unknown tribes
and undergoing danger for his faith.

Jesuit monks bore 
the flame of the gospel either alone
or in pairs to villages where
no white man had ever been,
dethroning idols,
challenging shamans 
to contests of holiness, and
planting churches in their place.
Ignatius outlined the
various ways this could be achieved:

"public preaching,
other ministries of the Word of God,
spiritual exercises,
education in Christianity,
hearing confessions, and
administering other sacraments,
works of charity,
reconciling the estranged,
ministering to persons in prison
and hospitals and similar services."

The flame-bearing mission 
of the Jesuits was rooted in a
deep dedication to the glory of God
and an intense personal love of Jesus.
They were completely at the disposal
of the universal Church,
willing to serve anyone anywhere, and
totally devoted to each other as
fellow companions.
In both their visible activity 
and their contemplative life,
they were 
hardworking,
adaptable,
learned, and

+ pgs. 50-55, Chapter 3: Flame Bearing in

Our Church Speaks: An Illustrated Devotional of Saints

More Saint + Revival Posts:  
+ St. Patrick & Celtic Christianity 
God Moves Thru Unlikely Saints 
+ Count Z & the Moravian Refugees  
+ Facing Death w/ "Of Gods & Men"  
Revival: Unfettered in Small Things
Presence & Prayer for Renewal  
In Our Time: Not Far from God
Next Post:


With presence and peace in Christ,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan

Email Pastor Mike | Website | Visit Us | Support Us | Facebook Us

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

One Thing I Ask of the Lord | I Don't Have to Pretend + Victory

 


In the dark be a Light ...
Let Your fire lead at night.
When our foes come to fight,
We need You on our side.
Hell tried it.
God denied it.

And so you ask,
"What can I do if even
the mighty, wealthy, and wise
are compromised in 
the fight against the night
if even they have not the power
to defeat the darkness with light?"

My friend, the greatest thing
that anyone can do is
something that everyone can do.

Light a candle.
It's that simple.
You take a candle of hope
and then you light it
with the flame of faith.
Have faith and believe
in the hopeful idea that
And when the Son arrives
all of our tears will be wiped
from our eyes ...

Death will no longer have power
for it will be Glory Hour.

+ Victory Boyd


Glory Hour by Victory Boyd

"One Thing" arrives off Victory Boyd's latest album, Glory Hour. Boyd revealed she made the project "after five years of what felt like setbacks" and "serves as a representation of God's grace in [her] life."

Victory Boyd
2013 A.D.

One thing,
One thing I have asked of the Lord,
That I may dwell
In the house of the Lord
All of the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the Lord
Every day and every night.
I want to meditate in His temple,
Resting in the glory of His light.
It's the one thing that I'm searching for ...

One thing that I ask of the Lord,
I want to be with You
Every single day of my life.

All I want is to hear Him speak
And everything will be alright.
Just like Mary sat at His feet,
Can't nobody take away my right.
So I walk with a heart of faith,
I refuse to live by sight.
All the demons that had me chained
All of a sudden are put to flight
When I call on the name 
Of my Savior, Jesus Christ,
Instantly, I start to reign
Over my enemies left and right
'Cause I know my God is great,
And He's already won the fight
So I won't be afraid of 
The terror that comes by night.
(Chorus)

Oh, chill, you don't have to deal
Lean on the arms of
The Father who can heal
Be still; why, all I see is hell?
Fighting to be well 
Just like everybody else, 
So snap, wait, Coming up the back
All my enemies
Aiming at me with attacks
Trying to kill, steal, 
Discourage me with bills but
Come rescue,
He knows how you feel.
He knows how to make
These threats no longer real
Jesus, fill me up with one thing ...
(Chorus)

Victory Boyd says, “My song ‘El Shaddai’ is a cry out to God from a place of humility. It’s from this place that I’ve personally experienced Him come to my rescue and clothe me in His strength.” She adds, “I want people to connect with this song and experience the power of El-Shaddai in their weakest moments.” Meaning “God Almighty” in Hebrew, “El Shaddai” is a song that sees Victory call out for God’s protection in times of darkness. Sandwiching the harmoniously sung, "We need you on our side, El Shaddai" chorus, her verses see her “rebuke suicide.”

Victory Boyd
2023 A.D.

We lift up our eyes.
We rebuke suicide.
We cast all care aside.
We bow down our pride.
Rescue us from the tide.
On Your wings, lift us high.
In the dark be a Light.
We need You on our side.

El Shaddai,
We need You on our side.

Let Your cloud be our guide.
Let Your fire lead at night.
When our foes come to fight,
We need You on our side.
(Chorus)

Hell tried it,
God denied it.
El Shaddai,
El Shaddai.
Baal we bind,
Tell 'em why.
We ridin' with El Shaddai,
El Shaddai.

I don't have to pretend
Like everything's okay.
That's not what Jesus meant 
When He said to have faith.
If you see me crying, 
I'm being true
Instead of lying 
About what I'm going through.
I'm trusting God
To heal my every wound.
And I know He will.
He makes all things new.

+ Victory Boyd
I Don't Have to Pretend

May God's Kingdom come, His will be done.
Que le Royaume de Dieu vienne,
que sa volonté soit faite.

愿神的国降临,愿神的旨意成就。
Nguyện xin Nước Chúa đến, ý Ngài được nên.
Jesús nuestra Rey, venga Tu reino!

🙏💗🍞🍷👑🌅🌇

With anticipation and joy,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan


Sunday, June 9, 2024

Christ Is Lower Still | Sanctuary Songs for Mental Health Care


Christ Is Lower Still from Sanctuary Songs by The Porter's Gate

Humbly, lowly Jesus

waits in the valley.
My Savior suffers with me.
With Him, I'll rise again.

If you go down
off the coast 
of Italy,
off the coast of Portofino,
in the Mediterranean Sea,
if you were to go and swim
to a certain place,
you'd find a very interesting sculpture.

It's a sculpture by an Italian sculptor
named Guido Galetti
and the sculpture is 
a full-sized sculpture of
Jesus Christ,
His arms raised up in the air.

But rather than displaying 
this sculpture in a museum
or a church sanctuary 
or a promenade,
this sculpture is installed
at the bottom of the 
Mediterranean Sea and
the only way to see it is
to swim down, down, down
and the further you go down,
the closer you'll be to seeing
Jesus looking up
and reaching upward to us.

And while there are many songs
that give voice to what it is to
ascend to the hill of the Lord
to find Jesus at the heights.

The Bible also tells us that
when we go down to the depths
that (Jesus) is already there.

The Porter's Gate
featuring DOE and Matt Maher
2024 A.D.

Breathe in, reach out,
Touch the hem of Your garment now,
Help me, heal me,
My mind, my body, and soul.

Let the King descend,
Living Word made flesh,
Lift this heavy heart to Your throne, 
O God.
In His wounds I find
 Room for all of mine.
When from grace I fell,
Christ was lower still.


Humbly, lowly Jesus
waits in the valley.
My Savior suffers with me.
With Him, I'll rise again.

Let the King descend,
Living Word made flesh,
Lift this heavy heart to Your throne, 
O God.
In His wounds I find
 Room for all of mine.
When from grace I fell,
Christ was lower still.
'Til the earth is filled,
Christ is lower still.

We lift it all up to You, Lord.
We lift our heads, we lift our hands, 
We lift it all up to You, Lord.
We lift our dreams, we lift our plans,
We lift it all up to You, Lord.
We lift our sorrow and our pain,
We lift it all up to You, Lord.
We cast our cares on You again.
We lift it all up to You, Lord.

Sanctuary Mental Health Ministries Songs

Sanctuary and The Porter's Gate
have created an album of songs
about mental health and faith.


Why create a worship album
focused on the theme of
mental health challenges?
Perhaps the answer to this question
can be found in yet more questions.

Are we inadvertently excluding or
stigmatizing members of our congregations
 by only singing certain types of songs, or
only singing about certain experiences
in the life of faith?

How can we encourage worship leaders
to think through their sets
from new and different perspectives?

And most importantly,
how can we help people
hold on to God’s presence
at all times and in all circumstances—
including experiences of
mental health challenges?

By creating an album that centers around the lived experience of people who are often marginalized in churches, and by modeling life-giving and healing ways for congregants to talk (and sing) about mental health challenges, we have the opportunity to unite liturgy and advocacy.

For more worship resources 
related to mental health, visit

Next Song Post


May God's Kingdom come, His will be done.
Que le Royaume de Dieu vienne,
que sa volonté soit faite.

愿神的国降临,愿神的旨意成就。
Nguyện xin Nước Chúa đến, ý Ngài được nên.
Jesús nuestra Rey, venga Tu reino!

🙏💗🍞🍷👑🌅🌇

With anticipation and joy,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan


Saturday, June 8, 2024

Solvitur Ambulando | "It Is Solved by Walking" + St. Augustine

Solvitur Ambulando
"It Is Solved by Walking."
+ St. Augustine

Recently, I was on a retreat at an Abbey, and I read the words, solvitur ambulando, "it is solved by walking," attributed to St. Augustine. (See also On the Road with St. Augustine.) They've been burrowing deeper into my soul ever since as a call to love, a call to obedience in becoming more like Jesus. 

The theme of walking with God is written throughout all of Scripture, and has captivated me ever since I realized the Emmaus story recapitulating God walking with humanity in the cool of the day. And as I step into the next decade of loving Worcester with Emmaus City Church, I think sauntering the streets of my beloved city with God and praying along the way is going to be key to how I continue to learn how to love my neighbors, act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.

Before my friend and tattoo artist, Kevin Shattuck of Iconic Ink, started his journey of traversing the Appalachian Trail from March to August in 2024, I gave him a favorite book I read back in the summer of 2021 during my sabbatical. It's called God Walk: Moving at the Speed of Your Soul by Mark Buchanan. (Other books by Buchanan that have powerfully shaped my walk with Jesus include The Rest of God and The Holy Wild.) And now I find myself reading God Walk again. The words inside are profound and life-giving. And I think they are also vision casting in ways I may come to realize if I embody this invitation to walk with God more.

This post features excerpts from
Chapter 1: Three Miles an Hour:
God Speed: Walking Faithfully

God walks "slowly"
because He is love.
If He is not love
He would move much faster.

Love has its speed.
It is an inner speed.
It is a spiritual speed.
It is a different kind of speed
from the technological speed
to which we are accustomed.
It is "slow" and yet it is
lord over all the other speeds
since it is the speed of love.

+ Kosuke Koyama,

Leave your simple ways
and you will live;
walk in the way of insight.
+ Proverbs 9:6

Walking is, along with eating and sleeping, our most practiced human activity. We walk because three miles an hour, as the writer Rebecca Solnit says, is about the speed of thought, and maybe the speed of our souls.

(In terms of religious physical discipline)
Hinduism has yoga.
Taoism has tai chi.
Shintoism has karate.
Buddhism has kung fu.
Confucianism has hapkido.
Sikhism has gatka.
(What about Christianity?)

The very core of Christian faith is
incarnation
— God's coming among us
as one of us to walk with us.
Incarnation is
Christianity's flesh and blood.
And every part of Christian faith
seeks embodiment,
a way of being lived out here,
now, in person.
Christianity insists that the Word
became flesh and dwelt among us,
And it insists that all words,
all ideas, all theories, all theologies,
all doctrines must become flesh
and dwell among us.

It calls us to walk out our faith,
not just know it or speak it or argue it.

Did (Does) Christian faith have a corresponding physical discipline? ... (Perhaps) It's walking. It started very early with a God in the habit of walking in the garden in the cool of the day. Likely, He invited our first parents to join Him, until that terrible day they ran away and hid instead. (See Gen. 3:8.) Even after that, holiness and walking with God were the same thing. "Enoch walked with God ... Noah ... walked with God" (Gen. 5:22, 6:9).

Later, the prophet Micah asks, What does God require of you? He considers a list of religious options: extravagant worship, costly sacrifice. But no. It's simple and personal: God wants us to love and to do justly. And then Micah throws in a third thing, or maybe it's the one thing needed, the single activity that makes the other two possible: "to walk humbly with your God" (Mic. 6:6-8).

Later still, the peripatetic apostle Paul picks up the theme. "Follow God's example, therefore, as dearly loved children," he exhorts the Ephesians. "Walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God" (Eph. 5:1-2).

Walking is a primary way
of knowing God.
Walking as healing.
Walking as exercise.
Walking as exorcism.
Walking as prayer.
Walking as remembering.
Walking as pilgrimage.
Walking as suffering.
Walking as friendship.

Walking is the way
we keep pace with the
It is God speed.
We walk with a God
who seems in no particular hurry
and who, it seems,
enjoys the going there
as much as the getting there.
A God who is slow ... 
being alongside Him who,
incarnate in Jesus,
turns to us as He passes by
— on foot, always on foot — 
and says, simply and subversively,
"Come follow Me."

Come, walk with Me.

Walking the Coast of Maine

The language of walking — 
walking with God,
walking in the light,
walking in truth,
walking in holiness,
keeping in step with the Holy Spirit,
and suchlike — laces like footprints
all through the Bible, start to finish.
It is the one physical discipline
that the Bible consistently associates
with a life of faith.

It's so common it's almost pedestrian.

Luke tells a story near the end of his gospel about two people walking and talking, trying to work out what's happened to them. One's named Cleopas, the other we don't know. They are traveling from Jerusalem to "a village called Emmaus, about seven miles (away)." At three miles an hour, that's more than a two-hour walk.

A long time to talk.
A long time to think.
Enough to change your mind.
Enough time to have your world
turned upside down.

Cleopas and his companion some think it was his wife or one of his children are disciples of Jesus. Or had been. They are crushed by disappointment: Jesus is dead. Killed. Crucified. Before their very eyes. Unmistakable. Undeniable. Irreversible. Everything they had believed about Jesus has proven false. Their words tell the story: "We had hoped that He was the one who was going to redeem Israel" (Luke 24:21).

We had hoped.
That He was.
Past tense.
The swan song
of the defeated,
the coda of
the brokenhearted.
As they walk, 
a man joins them. 
He walks with them.

He is an unusual traveler. A bit odd, maybe a tad thick: he seems clueless about the events that have shattered these two people's world and have gripped and rocked an entire nation. This traveler doesn't seem to know a thing about Jesus — His life, His words, His works. His brutal messy death. Or anything about a strange rumor going around — angels, an empty tomb, the dead raised.

Then the stranger 
starts to talk. 

It turns out, even if he doesn't seem to be up on recent news, he does know a lot of Scripture. And he knows a lot about the great hope of the Scriptures, the promised Messiah. As they walk, he talks. He teaches Cleopas and his companion about how all roads, all Scripture, lead to the same place: the Messiah will suffer before He enters His glory. At last, they reach Emmaus. The traveler tries to take his leave. He seems to have farther to go. But Cleopas and the other disciple are having none of it: "They urged him strongly, 'Stay with us, for it is nearly evening; the day is almost over'" (Luke 24:29). So the stranger relents, enters their home. They serve him a meal. Then he does something very odd for a guest in someone else's home: he takes charge. "When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them" (v. 30).

And that's when it happens — "their eyes were opened and they recognized Him" (v. 31). He inexplicably vanishes at that very moment. But it's okay. It's enough. They know who He is. They've seen this very thing before — taking bread, giving thanks, breaking bread, giving bread.

This the signature 
of the very Jesus 
they thought was dead:
taking, thanking, 
breaking, giving.
It's Jesus.
But the long walk isn't
beside the point.
It isn't wasted breath.
It is preparation.

"Were not our hearts burning within us," they asked each other "While He talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?" (v. 32).

This — like so many stories in Scripture — is both about other people and about us. It is about these two people, one named Cleopas, who lived long ago, far away. 

It's about their discovering 
Jesus present with them 
even as they lament His absence.
But it's also about us.
Jesus keeps doing this,
becoming present with us
even as we lament His absence.
He keeps showing up,
showing us things, 
walking beside us,
making out hearts burn within us.

We might not recognize Him 
at the time. 
That often comes later.

And it usually takes
some walking to get there.

+ God Walk,
pgs. 4-17


Bonus Posts:


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With presence and peace in Christ,

Rev. Mike “Sully” Sullivan

Email Pastor Mike | Website | Visit Us | Support Us | Facebook Us