Protestant guilt and Ignatian desire

I seem to bear a lot of ‘protestant guilt’. For a long time, my anchor text was Luke 12:48 From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded – aware that I have been given so much, I have felt under a constant obligation to give more of myself, without much consideration for my own well-being. This kind of thinking made it extremely difficult to say no to a request when I had the time and capacity to answer it. All these obligations crowded out my soul to the point that I couldn’t hear what she needed. I repeatedly ended up overwhelmed, overworked and resentful – the only thing that saved me was moving house or even country!

Ignatian spirituality is teaching me that I need to clear away these obligations so that my soul is free to breathe. That I need to let go of the idea that I can somehow assuage my guilt by taking on duties that I might be good at but do not find life-giving. As I shed such activities, a free and unencumbered space opens up within me, from where I may discern the true calling of my heart. In times when I am acting in tune with the desire of my heart, I feel light, peaceful, in the flow, even joyful – in harmony with the Holy Spirit within me. At such times it seems I am both following my calling and doing something I enjoy, as Frederick Buechner famously said, vocation is the place where our deep gladness meets the world’s deep need.

But I can’t help circling back to my deep sense of responsibility – how dare I enjoy my life when so many others are suffering? Isn’t there more that I ought to be doing? At such times, I reflect on a forest walk I once took alongside a small stream. The water was flowing down a slight incline; for long stretches it moved very slowly in wide clear pools, then suddenly dropping into a cascade of rushing, foaming chaos. When life feels like a still pool – with peace and joy and all the good things – rather than feeling guilty, this is a time to rejoice, to be thankful and to dig into the goodness, gathering up the graces of the moment into my inner storehouse. After all, sooner or later, I will surely be rudely interrupted by the next cascade of life’s troubles. As Jesus says in Matthew 6:34 do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

If I am to take this Ignatian desire seriously, perhaps it’s time for a new anchor text, how about these words from Matthew 11:29-30 . Take my yoke upon you… for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light?