By Holly Gustafson
As I watched my daughter eat her breakfast while scrolling through her phone this morning, it occurred to me that my Gen Z children will never know the boredom of a 1980s breakfast table. We didn’t have phones to occupy our minds while we ate our Cheerios, and although there was a little 10″ TV in the kitchen (as deep as it was across, on which we would watch The Flintstones at lunchtime, of course), there wasn’t much on at 8 am besides the news and uninteresting-to-kids morning shows. And so, we entertained ourselves with the only thing we had on hand: the cereal box. Bent over our bowls, we pre-smartphone children read every word, from the ingredients list to the directions on how to send your three proofs of purchase away to receive a free t-shirt (shipping and delivery not included) – if we were lucky, there was a maze or word game to solve printed on the back of the box.
This state of boredom that led us 80s kids to pore over our cereal boxes every morning is exactly the state that St. Ignatius Loyola found himself in nearly 500 years ago. Well, perhaps not “exactly,” but he, a very adventuresome courtier-soldier with a penchant for gambling, sword fighting, and wooing women, found himself wounded in battle and confined to his bed to convalesce at his family castle in Loyola. To pass the time, he asked for some romance novels that told the story of brave knights saving damsels in distress, but the only reading material available were two books: a life of Christ and a book on the lives of the saints (his proverbial cereal boxes). With two injured legs, the bedridden Ignatius had nothing better to do than to read, again and again, these two books. And over time, his dream of becoming a valiant knight grew more and more hollow while this new life – the heroic and joyful life of the saints – became an irresistible pull in his heart.
The rest is history: the once contentious and womanizing Ignatius went on to found the Society of Jesus and, in 1622, was canonized a saint; his feast day is celebrated on July 31. St. Ignatius of Loyola is the patron saint of the Jesuits (obviously), soldiers, the Basque Country (where he’s from), and spiritual retreats, among other things. But I wonder if, at least unofficially, we couldn’t consider him also the patron saint of slowing down, being bored, and making space for God. After all, if it weren’t for a cannonball shot to the leg, who knows if Ignatius of Loyola ever would have paused long enough to allow God to speak to his heart and draw him to the life of heroic holiness to which he was ultimately called?
This is what makes St. Ignatius of Loyola a great saint for our time of constant consumption of information and entertainment. Our TVs no longer have just three channels (or a dozen if we had cable); most of us now have multiple networks and streaming services at our fingertips (and yet, still, we sometimes feel like there’s nothing to watch). And if we don’t have the attention span for even a half-hour show, we can fill our minutes with scrolls through our social media feeds, an infinite supply of 30-second reels, or an endless lineup of memes. We have no excuse these days to be bored. Ever.
Jesuit priest, Fr. Charles J. Jackson, describes Ignatian spirituality as one that allows space for God to speak: “Ignatian spirituality can be described as an active attentiveness to God joined with a prompt responsiveness to God, who is ever active in our lives.” According to the Jesuits, God is always actively working in our lives, and we must first be attentive to Him so that we may respond to His call. But it’s hard to turn our attention to God when we have allowed technology to claim it all.
Summer is a great time to turn off the TV, put down our phones, and let God speak into our unclaimed time. Go for a walk (without listening to a podcast), spend the first moments of the day (and/or the last) in silent prayer instead of scrolling through your phone, and resist the urge to check your email or social media feed when you find yourself with “time to kill.” Instead, leave some moments free for God to quietly speak.
“Pay attention, O Job, listen to me; be silent, and I will speak….” (Job 33:31)
(Stock Photo – Canva)
Holly Gustafson lives with her husband, James, and four of their five children, in Regina; they attend Christ the King Parish, where Holly works as the sacrament coordinator. Holly teaches linguistics at First Nations University, and pursues her love of the art of language through public speaking, writing, journaling, and calligraphy. The best advice she ever received was from her spiritual bestie, St. Faustina, who told her that when in doubt, “Always ask Love. It advises best.“
