THE JOURNEY WITHIN

I wonder whether you have ever stood in an airport queue and asked yourself the question: Why is it that the person immediately ahead of me unfailingly holds a ticket of such complexity that it requires more than routine attention from the person behind the counter and more than ordinary patience from those of us waiting behind?

I was recently at Melbourne airport grappling with this very mystery when my mobile phone rang with an urgent message from my beloved superior. The keynote speaker for the Xavier College Year 11 students' retreat had become ill and could I at very short notice take her place? In a few days, 247 young men would be waiting for my pearls of wisdom on the topic, 'Discernment and Decision-Making'. How could I refuse such an invitation?

Where does one begin? I can remember that great educator, Professor Hedley Beare, giving a talk to some graduating high school students in 1982 on the theme of 'The Two Journeys'. The first is the outer journey, where we learn to be a citizen of the world, learn another language, learn to be comfortable in another country and culture outside Australia. The second, far more important, journey is what we might term 'the inner journey, the journey within'. It is what all intrepid inner travellers like Madonna readers know so well.

In early 2003, I was staying for a few days at the famous Irish Jesuit boarding school, Clongowes Wood College, about 40 minutes south of Dublin. I had the privilege of meeting a wonderful Jesuit in the community, Percy Winder, who was dying of cancer and had about nine months to live. In the course of our conversation about many things, he commented beautifully: 'I believe very deeply that we are all on a journey from God to God. God is moulding us into his masterpiece'. One could not portray the inner journey any better. I had the starting-point for my talk to the young men of Xavier.

It was William Shakespeare who wrote that 'the readiness is all'. We have to prepare ourselves, indeed practise on a daily basis, to be discerning people, people who are comfortable looking into our hearts and minds to sift what leads us to God and what leads us away from him. To ready ourselves for making good decisions, we need to take time to practise those inner skills of reflection and listening. It is in the present moment where the Invisible Lover resides, as close as our breath.

My esteemed predecessor in this editorial chair, Andrew Bullen SJ, has written recently: 'Where have I been in spirit today? That's a good question for any Christian to ask oneself at the end of the day, by tuning in before turning in'. Reflecting on the experience of one's day, what one might term 'rewinding' the day, is a very important part of the ongoing practice of discernment.

To this end, the Jesuit school on Sydney Harbour, St Aloysius' College, last year came up with the splendid idea of issuing all their students with a small card for their wallets. Under the title of 'The Aloy's 5 Stars', the following five questions are listed for discernment:

Being aware of God's presence today, what was the best thing I heard? What was the best thing I saw? What was the best thing someone did for me? What was the best thing I did for someone else? What can I do to improve tomorrow? Thank you God.

If the students endeavoured each night to tune into these questions before turning in, they would be well on the way to becoming discerning people.

Good discerners will be careful listeners because they will have learnt also to listen to themselves. 'You have to listen to the river if you want to catch a trout', says the old Irish proverb. Nearly 60 years ago, in 1949, the distinguished German theologian, Paul Tillich, wrote:

'Most of our life continues on the surface. We are enslaved by the routine of our daily lives, in work and pleasure, in business and recreation. We do not stop to look at the height above us, or to the depth below us … We talk and talk and never listen to the voices speaking to our depth and from our depth. We accept ourselves as we appear to ourselves, and do not care what we really are. Like hit and run drivers, we injure our souls by the speed with which we move on the surface; we miss, therefore, our depth and true life.'

Good listeners and competent discerners are also caring people. The word 'care' comes from the Latin cura meaning 'attention to, observance of'. 'Honour the symptom', Thomas Moore wrote in Care of the Soul, 'and let it guide us in close care of the soul.' Care is not so much about problem-solving as it is about learning to befriend problems.

From another perspective, 'care' also comes from the Gothic word Kara meaning 'mourning'. Care, in this sense, is a participation in the pain of another, a solidarity in suffering. In her latest spiritual memoir, Joan Chittister reminds us that 'listeners are life's rarest breed … Listeners—those who hear the pain behind the pain—come few and far between'.

Whatever the young men of Xavier made of these thoughts I do not know. In my concluding remarks, however, I used the following story as a parallel to Ignatius' famous meditation on 'The Two Standards' in his Spiritual Exercises:

One evening around the camp fire an old Cherokee warrior was telling his grandson about a battle that goes on inside all people. He said, 'My son, the battle is between two “wolves” inside us all. One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority and ego. The other “wolf” is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.'

His grandson thought about this story for a minute and then asked his grandfather, 'Which wolf wins?' The old Cherokee warrior simply replied, 'The one you feed.'

Discerning people will always feed the right wolf.