What we consider to be Ignatian spirituality begins, most naturally, with the “First Principle and Foundation” of The Spiritual Exercises. We are told that all the things of the earth are created so that all human beings may see creation as a gift, and that creation is a cause of our showing gratitude to God and is to be used as an aid in developing greater knowledge of and love for God.
I would like to suggest that Black spirituality and Ignatian spirituality are very much in harmony with how immersion in sacred scripture can lead us to heal and repair the wounds of so many of the social sins that victimize us.
Throughout The Spiritual Exercises St. Ignatius advises the retreatant to use the imagination to engage in the “contemplation of place.” This directive can be found in “Week Two” in The Call of the Temporal King; the Three Types of Persons; the Departure from Nazareth (as a few examples). And the same instruction is all through the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Exercises, especially when Ignatius speaks of the “application of the five senses.” And then Ignatius gives the directive of how one must pray with scripture: What is the story? Who are you in the story? What do you see, hear, feel? What resolution do you draw from the meditation?
The same process has to be followed when listening to or singing any of the great Black sacred songs commonly known as spirituals. These songs—and most of the songs known as traditional gospel songs—carry the singers and listeners “way up in the middle of the air, where the little wheel run by faith and the big wheel run by the grace of God”—taking them out of their mundane existence into a world defined by revelation, transcendence and bonding (however fleeting) with the eternal. “Every time I feel the Spirit, moving in my heart, I will pray…”
Black liberation theology deals with self-repair, personal and communal healing from the deliberate and systematic infliction of psychic, physical, and emotional trauma on those who believed that “Ain’t No Grave Can Hold My Body Down,” that “everybody talking ‘bout heaven ain’t going there”; that healing is poured out when we call, “Fix Me, Jesus, Fix Me….”
What better song is there to accompany a meditation on the First Principle and Foundation than, “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands?” What an amazing immersion into a scriptural story it is for us to be one of the disciples at the Last Supper, while singing, “There’s Plenty Good Room in My Father’s Kingdom/ Choose Your Seat and Set Down.” Black sacred songs demand that the singers take upon themselves essential roles in the scriptural stories. This theological tradition radically shifts the understanding of the First Covenant, from the Israelites who commit themselves to this contract with God, to the “stranger and alien” to whom all hospitality and care must be shown.
All of the songs mentioned here and most of the spirituals rewrite the Covenant, understanding the radical challenge of Jesus, to redefine self and other, friend and stranger. One rendering of the Covenant is relevant here:
When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God (Leviticus 19:33).
The singers of these songs, the believers who composed them and sent them through time to all who are in need of being recognized as children of God, knew that they had been defined by colonialism, racism, sexual abuse, and torture and were considered alien, sub-human and marked with the sign of sin and corruption. And they sang. The sang their legitimacy, their power to define themselves, their ability to breathe in the transformative spirit of the biblical heroes and become their own heroes. They became Moses, Daniel, Ezekiel, Joshua, Mary and Martha, and the disciples and apostles. These songs allowed the Black Christian believers a moment or two to shake free of the shackles of racism and its attending abuses.
A moment or two, only. No Black Christian in this country has ever been allowed to forget that we “were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Nor are we ever allowed to forget that those who infected this world with the sin of racism did everything in their power to act as if they had never been “strangers in the land of Egypt,” instead believing that they have and had a God-given right to embody their superiority, convinced that they were and are the true chosen children of God.
So, how can we use Ignatian spirituality to aid us in repairing the brokenness of our church, our country due to racism? First, we must recognize that the songs of the Black Church could be used in almost every meditation found in The Spiritual Exercises. These songs could help the retreatant find the “contemplation of place,” remarkably easy to enter and find moments of grace. Those seeking ways to heal the sins of racism can engage in meditations that help the praying/seeking believer to understand that they can place themselves as the broken person abandoned on the Jericho Road; as Joseph and Mary, fleeing the military forces of Herod; as either of the thieves crucified on either side of Jesus; as Peter, as he denies his savior in the courtyard; as John, standing beneath the cross; as the shepherds hearing the chorus of Heaven on that blessed morning of the Incarnation.
No matter the meditation, these moments of mystical immersion will lead the praying/seeking believer to engage in one other aspect of Ignatian spirituality that is seldom prioritized: spiritual conversation. Spiritual conversations were the basic charism of Ignatius and his companions. How would such conversations aid in this endeavor? How do we grant validity of voice to the other? One of the most hateful actions of discrimination is the belief that those in power can define the terms by which all should live, and deny the validity of the life story and the word of the other. “Oh, it’s not as bad as you make it out to be.” “Oh, you are not as wounded or abused as you claim.” “Oh, we can’t deal with your pain and suffering and fragility because we didn’t do anything directly to affect you.” “If you would stop complaining and start taking better care of yourself and show some self-respect, things would be better for you.”
Spiritual conversations must be as much about respectful, silent listening and simple acceptance as about making some responsive point. When we learn to hear what has been broken or ruined, we must accept the truth—especially when the other is singing the grace of the Spirit into our hearts. “’Repairer of the breach,’ they shall call you, ‘Restorer of ruined dwellings’.” (Isaiah 58:12).
