The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything (38 page)

Fifth,
now that you have your lists, pray about them and see which way your reason inclines. Eventually you will come to a choice that brings some peace. But there is a further step.

Sixth,
ask for some sort of confirmation from God that this is the right decision.

Confirmation should be sought in every decision. And Ignatius
expected
that one will experience confirmation of the “rightness of our choice,” as Lonsdale says. This may mean the experience of consolation as described above, or simply the feeling of being at peace with yourself and God. A poor choice would more likely lead to feelings of desolation or agitation, as if we had somehow taken a wrong turn. As Michael Ivens notes, “We pray for confirmation in order to be as sure of doing God’s will as it is given us to be; and to counter the tendency in us to opt for hasty closure.”

Ivens reminds us that we should be satisfied with whatever confirmation we receive. Even if it’s simple. “This may in the end be simply the negative confirmation that nothing comes up to call our decision into question.”

That’s not to say that a good decision won’t stir you up. If you decide to move, there will be lots to do. And everyone feels some buyer’s remorse. You may feel some anxiety as you think about all the responsibilities a new house entails. But if, deep down, you feel consolation, you feel peace, you feel you’re headed in the right direction, it’s probably a good choice.

Sometimes confirmation comes in a more dramatic way. Sometimes the clarity might even make you smile. My longtime friend Chris was thinking of leaving his old job as an investment manager in a large corporation. He had been offered a new position at a midsize university, his alma mater, managing their investment portfolio. Chris had come to the brink of accepting the new job, but something seemed to hold him back.

The morning he had to give his decision to the university, he turned on his computer. Chris is a faithful member of the United Church of Christ and reads an online devotional each day, a short reflection on Scripture and faith. This morning he flipped on his computer and went to the devotional Web site that he turns to every morning. The heading for that day was: Time to Leave.

Chris had his confirmation. He laughed when he recounted the story and said, “Isn’t it nice when God is direct?”

But most of the time God is not so clear. So be content with what confirmation God gives you.

Confirmation also needs to be found
outside of you
. It’s not just about how you feel or even the feeling of “rightness.” In Jesuit life, if you make a decision and the superior does not reach the same decision, you can say that ultimately it was not confirmed. For most people the confirmation also comes from testing it out.

Here’s an example: Let’s say you’ve decided to confront your manager about his tirades at work. You’ve carefully discerned that you will speak to him during your annual job performance evaluation. But on that very morning you discover that your boss is in a foul mood and has just exploded in anger at a coworker. It doesn’t seem like your decision to confront him today has received confirmation. But it may be as simple as waiting a few days. Just because you’ve discerned doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t look to reality for some real-life confirmation. As one Jesuit said, “Trust your heart but use your head, too.”

All this does not mean that you’ve made a bad choice. It may simply be time to discern again based on the new data. This is the pattern of “reflection-action-reflection” that Jesuits teach their students. You reflect on a decision, act on it, see what happens, and then reflect on that experience, leading to another decision, propelling you ahead. This is part of being a “contemplative in action,” someone who is always reflecting on his active life, as Ignatius did.

Now, you might say that the First Method is an obvious way of making a Third Time decision. “Big deal—a list of pros and cons!”

But Ignatius highlights a few steps that we normally ignore when making a choice.

First, he reminds us of the value of indifference. Many times we enter into a decision with our minds already made up, or too concerned about how others will judge our decision. Try to avoid both traps.

Second, the First Method is more concerned with reason than emotion. This helps to remove the tremendous anxiety that normally surrounds a major decision. Emotions are critical when making a decision. But often we are so emotional about a big decision that while we
know
that making a list is the sensible thing to do, because of all the emotional stress we never do it! The First Method reminds us of the value of reason.

Third, Ignatius reminds us that each course of action will be imperfect. Every solution has positive and negative aspects. As a Jesuit friend likes to say, “There are pros and cons on both sides.” This helps us avoid the trap of seeking the “perfect” outcome.

Using lists in decision-making is common. What Ignatius adds to this approach is indifference, praying over the list, seeking confirmation, and trusting that God is part of the process, because God desires your happiness and peace.

Sometimes the First Method can be difficult. One man told me that with all these lists, he found this too analytical, too much like “processing data,” as he put it. That’s okay, I told him, because Ignatius has another method for you.

The Second Method
relies less on reason and more on imagination. It employs some creative techniques to help us think about the decision in a fresh way. Remember, Ignatius was flexible. Here he offers a variety of ways for making a decision, depending on a person’s psychological makeup—some rely on prayer, some on reason, some on the imagination. Once again Ignatius shows us his keen understanding of human nature.

First,
he suggests you “imagine a person whom I have never seen or known,” and
imagine what advice you would give to this person
regarding the same decision you are facing. This can help free you from excessive focus on
yourself
.

A few years ago, for example, I felt obliged to speak out about a controversial issue in the church. The only problem was that my Jesuit superior told me that he didn’t want me speaking out. It was a difficult situation: my integrity pulled one way, and my vow of obedience another. If I went with my integrity, I would have to disobey my superior. If I obeyed my superior, I would have to compromise my integrity.

Coming to a good decision seemed impossible. In prayer I was drawn to the figure of Jesus courageously preaching the truth. At other times I imagined Jesus reminding me about my vow of obedience. My emotions failed to lead me to a clear answer: on the one hand, I felt the desire to speak out; on the other the desire to be a good Jesuit. My reason also failed to lead me to a clear answer: on the one hand, you should speak the truth. On the other hand, you should keep your vows.

In the midst of my confusion I remembered the Second Method. So I imagined someone in my situation: a Jesuit who felt obliged to speak out, but wanted to follow his vow of obedience. Instantly it became clear what I would say to him, as I was freed from focusing on
myself
.

In my imagination, I advised this hypothetical person that he needed to seek the approval of his superiors, even though it might take years. In this way he would be honest, trying to say what his conscience impelled and also faithful to his vows as a Jesuit. After I had finished with that prayer, I felt a tremendous burden lifted. The Second Method had freed me to see clearly. I knew what I had to do, because I knew what
he
had to do.

Second,
says Ignatius, you can imagine yourself
at the point ofdeath
. That sounds morbid, I know. It is also clarifying. Think of yourself on your deathbed, far in the future, and imagine asking yourself: what should I have done?

It’s easy to see why this is so effective. Often we choose something that is more expedient
now,
the easier course, which we know might be a decision that we will regret. The old saying that no one on his deathbed ever said, “I wish I had spent more time at the office,” captures some of this insight.

Third,
we can imagine ourselves at the
Last Judgment
. Which choice would we want to present before God?

To use our earlier example of the house hunter, no one is going to be scolded by God for staying in an apartment rather than buying a house! But, particularly with moral choices, this method can help to focus on the demands of faith.

For example, perhaps you’re deciding whether to accept a new job, with a higher salary, but one that means you will spend dramatically less time with your family. You might imagine God, at the end of your life, being sad over that decision.

Let me add an additional suggestion to those of Ignatius,
a fourth
technique:
imagine what your “best self” would do
.

You probably have an idea of the person you would like to become, the person you think God is calling you to be or, likewise, your “best self,” “authentic self,” or “true self.” For me, it’s a person who is free, confident, mature, independent, and loving. Can you imagine your best self, the person you hope to become one day? As you consider your decision, ask yourself:
What would my best self do?
Sometimes the insight will come all at once—you think,
if I were a freer and more loving person, I would obviously choose this option
.

Making decisions with that fourth technique may seem odd at first. That is, acting as if you were your best self may feel unfamiliar. But, eventually, by acting that way, you will help yourself move in the direction of actually being your best self. As Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, a person can “act in God’s eyes what in God’s eye he is.” Making decisions as if you were your best self will help you become your best self.

T
HE
R
ULES FOR
D
ISCERNMENT

In addition to these methods and practices, Ignatius lists what we could call “helpful hints” for making big decisions. He also shows how to recognize when the “enemy of human nature” is at work and when the “good spirit” is at work in your choices.

You might be tripped up again by the antiquated terms that Ignatius uses. Make no mistake: Ignatius believed that the “good spirit” is the Spirit of God leading us to a healthy and holy life. The “evil spirit” or the “enemy,” in Ignatius’s worldview, is the spirit of Satan. That’s what I believe, too, though I don’t necessarily think of Satan as having horns and hooves. (Then again, who knows?)

Another way to think of this is to see those feelings that pull us away from God as opposing the Spirit of God. Or to distinguish between what is “of God” and what is “not of God.” Most of us feel that pull between good and evil, healthy and unhealthy, selfish and generous, in our lives. Ignatius casts this in terms of a battle and, through a variety of means, helps us to identify which spirit is at work. Timothy Gallagher, O.M.V., in
The Discernment of Spirits
says: “Ignatius recognizes that when we seek to embrace God’s love and follow God’s will according to the full truth of our human nature, we will encounter something inimical to this seeking; we will be faced with an
enemy
.”

But no matter how you imagine evil operating, the way that the “enemy”
works
within people is instantly identifiable and seems to have certain traits that make it recognizable. However you understand it, you’ll see that here, especially, Ignatius is a worthy match for Freud or Jung in his canny understanding of the human psyche. “Smart guy,” a psychologist once said of Ignatius after I described some of these insights.

These tips, called Rules for Discernment, are not so much techniques like those above, but insights.

Let me share the ones that I have found the most useful.

The Drop of Water

If you’re going from one bad thing to another, on a downward path, the enemy will encourage you to continue. The enemy “makes them imagine delights and pleasures of the senses, in order to hold them fast and plunge them deeper into their sins,” says Ignatius. So if you’re engaging in sinful behavior, the evil spirit will make you feel
good
about those things. If you’re engaged in some sleazy business scheme, the evil spirit will say,
“Oh, just keep going. Don’t worry. Imagine all the money you’ll make. No one will find out. Everyone’s doing it. You deserve it. Everything will be fine.”

In the 1940 Alfred Hitchcock movie
Rebecca,
based on a Daphne Du Maurier novel, there is a marvelous scene in which Mrs. Danvers, the wicked servant of the house (played by Judith Anderson), is peering out a window alongside Mrs. de Winter, the new wife of the master of the house. The jealous servant despises the new wife and has succeeded in making her life in the house miserable. Lonely and forlorn, the new Mrs. de Winter gazes at the ground below her, as Mrs. Danvers encourages her to kill herself.

“You have nothing to live for, really, have you?” she purrs. “Look down there. It’s easy, isn’t it? Why don’t you? Why don’t you? Go on . . . go on . . . don’t be afraid.”