The good is one thing, the pleasant is another.Today we celebrated the feast of St Ignatius of Loyola. The thing I kept thinking about was one of Ignatius’ favorite phrases that became a sort of motto for the Jesuit order that he founded, the Latin phrase, Ad Majoreum Dei Gloriam which means “for the greater glory of God.” This short little phrase was very influential during the early years of the Jesuits and is placed on the seal of most Jesuit schools and institutions. Another term that is closely associated with it and appears to be taken from Ad majorem Dei gloriam is the Latin word magis. It is usually translated as “the more.” What is “the more”? One Jesuit described it this way: the more is “the search for the most universal good. It’s not just doing more but doing something deeper, more widely, something beyond, something with added depth and dimension.” The roots of all this are ascribed to St. Ignatius himself who was always trying to do more for God. Apparently during his life he would always encourage people around him by asking them: “What have I done for God? What am I doing for God?” and “What more can I do for God?”
Both the good and the pleasant present themselves to us.
The calm soul examines them well and discriminates.
It goes well with those who, of the two, takes the good;
But those who choose the pleasant miss the end.
Katha Upanishad (I.ii.I)
I’ve had a number of Jesuit directors along the way, so I am quite aware of this theme. The Jesuits, of course, given the foundation of the Spiritual Exercises, are brilliant with discernment. The important point is that once we have sorted out the bad from the good, once we have rid ourselves of unhealthy passions and attachments (if we ever do), there is still discernment to do, actually the real discernment. Because, so I was taught, real discernment is not a choice between good and evil. Discernment is a choice between two goods. As CS Lewis taught in the “The Great Divorce” things grow farther apart as they reach perfection. Good becomes different from evil and then becomes different from other goods. And we are asked to choose not just the good, but the magis, the “more.” We are asked to choose not just what give God glory, but what would give God the greatest glory. And good people, my spiritual director, are always tempted by the good, but the merely good can stand in the way of the magis, the majorum Dei gloriam, from what will give God the greatest glory. It’s not enough to get by, for Ignatius––what is the best thing I can do for God, with my life, in my vocation.
Jesus says it this way:
The reign of God is like a net that was thrown into the sea
and caught fish of every kind;
when it was full, they drew it ashore, sat down,
and put the good into baskets but threw out the bad…
And every scribe who has been trained for the reign of God
is like the head of a household who brings out of the treasure
what is new and what is old.’ (Mt 13:47–52)
We learn from Ignatius’ memoirs how he experienced passing joy and then sadness when he thought of worldly pleasures––kind of like a sugar high, but then he experienced lasting peace when he thought of the joys of heaven, from which comes his teaching on consolation and desolation in the exercises. It reminded me of this in the Katha Upanishad at the beginning of Yama’s discourse to Nachiketa, the first bit of wisdom he offers:
The good is one thing, the pleasant is another.
Both the good and the pleasant present themselves to us.
The calm soul examines them well and discriminates.
It goes well with those who, of the two, takes the good;
But those who choose the pleasant miss the end. (I.ii.I)
How do we learn this discernment, how do we know which are good fish and bad fish, what is good out of the old and the new, the difference between the merely pleasant and the good, then between the good and the magis? We sometimes have the mistaken notion that doing the will of God means our annihilation. I think even of some of old religious who have told me that their way used to be, “Oh, so you’re good at music? You’ll be teaching science!” It was a matter of breaking someone’s will. But our wills are not meant to be broken, they are meant to lined up with God’s will, and God’s will is our delight, God’s will is that we experience consolation and bliss. St Ignatius insists that what comes from following God’s will for us (what PRH might call our “essential course of action”) is consolation; my spiritual director called it “bliss!” The famous line from the movie Chariots of Fire, and “When I run I feel His pleasure.” Frederick Buechner says, “The place where God calls you is where your deep joy meets the world’s deep hunger.” We are meant to feel consolation and bliss, we are meant to feel divine pleasure in doing the will of God. Thomas Merton says it a different way in his revisiting of the Prometheus myth: “Our own joy is heaven’s mirth.” We learn to discern, we know the difference between the merely pleasant and the good, the good and the magis when we feel this consolation, this bliss, the pleasure of God.
This is not to say that there still isn’t an ascesis involved, an abnegation, a way of the cross. We still need to give up the merely pleasant for the good; and then give up the good for the magis, for the greater glory of God. But this is our very nature. I re-found this beautiful passage written by an anonymous Carthusian recently in The Wound of Love: “…continual progress is constitutive of the soul itself; and it keeps itself constantly oriented toward something higher than itself.” We are growing from glory to glory! So what we do is merely a reflection of who we are, ad majorem Dei gloriam.
