O God, I love Thee, I love Thee--

Not out of hope of heaven for me

Nor fearing not to love and be

in the everlasting burning.

Thou, Thou, my Jesus, after me

Didst reach Thine arms and dying.

For my sake sufferedst nails and lance,

Mocked and marred countenance,

Sorrows passing number,

Sweat and care and cumber,

Yea and death, and this for me,

And Thou couldst see me sinning;

Then I, why should not I love Thee,

Jesus, so much in love with me?

Not for heaven's sake; not to be

Out of hell by loving Thee;

Not for any gains [ see;

But just the way that Thou didst me

I do love and I will love Thee:

What must I love Thee, Lord, for then?

For being my king and God. Amen.

 

- from “O Deus, Ego Amo Te,” a prayer attributed to St. Francis Xavier, SJ, translated by Gerard Manley Hopkins, SJ

 

I had an argument with my girlfriend once, several years ago, over some long-forgotten matter. We were on the phone one late night trying to figure out why the other seemed to take such an unreasonable position on something that seemed so important then. But after several minutes, it became clear that we had to hang up without reaching an agreement. As we prepared to close the conversation, my girlfriend unceremoniously said the three words of love that we always said to each other at the end of the day. I found those words highly inappropriate and could hardly get myself to reciprocate. Instead of starting a new fight, she asked me about my understanding of love and told me that for her, there is a love that transcends feelings and arguments. She then told me that she loved me even while we were fighting. I mention this because a trace of that feeling comes back to me today. 

 

That conversation happened several years ago. Now, I am a vowed member of the Society of Jesus. I have professed perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

 

A lot has happened in my life as a Jesuit, as one trying to faithfully live the vows which all in the Society of Jesus make. Of the three vows, I think the vow of obedience is the one I have the least problem with. This vow forms the link to the corporate mission of the Society, allowing God, through the Society, to wield a Jesuit as a useful instrument for His work. Being obedient, as best as prayer and grace has enabled me, I have been led to help out in our missions in Zamboanga del Sur; to fish with Ka Gorio and Ka Noel in Laguna de Bai and live with the rest of the fisher folk community of Tanay, Rizal; to eat, listen, and simply be with Ferdie and Willie and my other inmate- friends at the Medium Security Compound of the New Bilibid Prisons; to sell barbecue sticks at the Munoz Market and stay with my foster family, squatting on land below Meralco's high-voltage wires; and to teach English to major seminarians , in a small town in the• north east portion of Myanmar. Perhaps none of these would be part of my experience had I not been a Jesuit. 

 

Through time and experience, I have found that the vow of obedience which has taken me to several places is intimately related to the vow of poverty. Among other things, the vow of poverty has taught me – certainly not without difficulty – not to be inordinately attached to places or to people. In the past four and half years, I have moved residence eight times, not counting the places I mentioned above. This speaks of a life which goes against the generally accepted idea that property is an indispensable source of security. Not being able to hold on to people is another aspect of this poverty. It seems that our relationships with other people, Jesuit or not, are always punctuated by hellos, good-byes, and more hellos. Jesuits do have personal friends but no exclusivity should be part of it. 

 

The area of greatest struggle for me seems to be with the vow of chastity, in the realm of relationships. We are called to love all men and women and not be tied down and taken away from the mission by any undue attachment to any person. The vow of chastity frees us to be more available and effective ministers of God's people. I was told by a lay person that one reason why people are sad when we leave the Society is because we will no longer be as available to them as we had been before. But it doesn’t make it any easier to love fully when certainly, a time will come when we will have to eventually leave those we have grown to love in our ministry. Chastity is also a call to love our community of imperfect members within the Society, a love which does not have "liking" as a prerequisite. 

 

Was I born for all this? The fact is that being a priest wasn't part of my "What do I want to be when I grow up?" list. My family was not extraordinarily pious, and I was never an altar boy or part of the church choir when I was young. But we never missed Sunday mass as a family. And rather than demand from us children that we be altar boys and say the rosary everyday (not that I have anything against these things), my parents always emphasized doing what was right, just, and moral. Then, in my third year of college, the initial stirrings of a desire for religious life came. The La Salle Brothers helped me in my discernment which eventually – but not without many twists and turns – led to the doorstep of the Jesuits at Sacred Heart Novitiate.

 

Now, having been in the Society for quite a number of years, I have seen and heard a lot of things, some of which have not been consistent with the ideals I have learned and read about. Of course, I too have my own share of warts and flaws and habits which certainly irritate and disedify others. This Society may indeed be divinely inspired but human weakness and frailty are surely part of it. And yet, by the grace of God, I find myself far from questioning my commitment. Given all the shadows and skeletons which we cannot be proud of, still I find in my heart an undeniable love for the Society.

 

Everyday, as a Jesuit, I say my "yes." I say "yes" to the struggle to achieve the ideals which Christ lived. I commit myself not because following and imitating Christ is easy, but because I know it is costly and difficult to do so. But I also know that despite or rather because of my own sinfulness, God's love empowers me to say "yes." 

 

I do love and I will love Thee: 

What must I love Thee, Lord, for then? 

For being my king and God. Amen. 

 

Postscript: My ex-girlfriend called me up some time ago. We talked for a while, and at the end, I expressed to her my words of affection and congratulations: She was about to say her "yes" in marriage. Her vows are different from mine, but it is the same God we try to follow in our different ways of saying "yes."

 

- Gabriel Lamug-Nañawa, SJ

Fr. Gabby wrote this article early in his Jesuit formation. He is currently serving in Cambodia.