RISEN Retreat Content

Welcome to the RISEN Retreat. You are about to begin a Retreat in Daily life inspired by and rooted in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. We invite you to pray daily during the next twelve weeks of the RISEN Retreat. 

As Fr. Tetlow writes in the retreat book Becoming An Easter People, "The purpose of this retreat is to enrich mature disciples' living the joy that Jesus left us." We look forward to finding joy on this journey with you.

As you begin, please note that all retreatants will benefit from reading Praying with this Book: The Practical Things, starting on page iii.

We invite you to reflect as we prepare to enter week one with the excerpt below from Praying as a Christian by David L. Fleming, S.J.

"Of course, praying is more than just actual conversation. We all know that we communicate in many ways—even sitting together side-by-side in a car for long stretches of a journey can be a communication, with little or nothing being said. Presence, gestures, music, art, dance—there are many ways to communicate. And so we find praying bigger than just saying words or thinking thoughts. Our meeting and dealing with God, then, comes more than just in our so-called prayer times. Our ways of praying, our meeting with God, can happen in silence, in an incidental conversation, in appreciating the beauty of a day, in observing birds or dogs or any of God’s creatures. Our meeting with God happens not just in the silence of our room, not just in a church, but also in dealing with one another, in meals together, in solitary walks, in listening to music, and in and through the myriad of other activities that fill our everyday life."

-“Praying: Recognizing God Within” by David L. Fleming, in Praying as a Christian, ed. Fleming, pp. 2–3

This retreat is best experienced when done with a small group of friends, family, or community members. We suggest that groups coordinate to meet weekly or biweekly, for about an hour each session in-person, via Zoom, or another web platform of your choosing.

Welcome to week one of the RISEN Retreat. We are glad you are here. If you have not already done so we recommend reviewing the introduction to this retreat. Our retreat officially begins with the video presentation below. We are thrilled to embark on this journey with you!

Bound by Love

"Jesus, in St. Paul’s expression, is at the center of all creation (Col. 1:17–18): heaven and earth and sea, angels and men. He is the center of all and therefore all things are held together in him. But searching more closely still, we shall find that in Christ himself there is something which is “central,” that brings together everything that is in him; a center toward which all the points of the circumference converge; a center from which all the lines start to the periphery. This core is his love, symbolized in his Heart.
The love of the Word for the Father is the center of his divine life, the love that brings about the incarnation. The Word becomes Jesus the Savior and takes a heart of flesh like ours. The infinite love is to be found in a small human heart; there it finds an abode, an organ of flesh, a heart full of affection and feeling
. . . The Heart of Christ is always the center of every Christian life."

-In Him Alone Is Our Hope, Arrupe, pp. 112–13

Welcome to the second week of RISEN. Below is passage to help provoke reflection for you during this week. 

God's Quiet Love

"Imagine being totally forgiven by one you love but have hurt deeply. The regret, confusion, sadness, and embarrassment bite deep, and you dread coming face to face again with this friend. Of course it happens, and you are received with forgiveness and acceptance. All of your attempts to explain and apologize are waved aside, and the reunion is simply rejoicing in being together again. It is the story of the prodigal child: no excuses or explanations are wanted, not even apologies. It is simply the total love and joy at having the child back. Such an experience would be overwhelming, never forgotten; and the child would be forever changed. . . . This epitomizes the forgiving love of Jesus.

These are metaphors of God’s love for us in our worst times. That love seems unreal, too good to be true. But that love is what we are asked to believe in this exercise, and we will begin to get a glimpse of what this means only when we have once experienced ourselves forgiven and accepted back unconditionally for our stance of utter indifference and rejection. Fortunately, this is our God. we do not have to comprehend it. We need merely to accept it.

To be embraced by God and know such unconditional love is a powerful experience. It almost seems overwhelming, especially when we feel vulnerable and weak, especially when we have not been loving ourselves. It leads us to want to respond to God with our own hearts filled with love."

- To Share in the Life of Christ: Experiencing God in Everyday Life, Gooley, pp. 97–98

Welcome to the third week of RISEN. 

God's Silence

"The God who is always there, always everywhere, becomes for me a suddenly realized presence. He is forever creating, but at the same time doing so much more than creating. Usually, though, the presence of God is realized after the fact. God, the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow, has the uniqueness of now. Our hearts are on fire, and even the  memory of the memory shares the luster of the moment. . . . 

I look to see where God has been in my day. The gentle presence is unnoticed because love does not force itself on another. I examine my consciousness of that presence. He comes when I least expect him, and I find him all the more when I look to see where he has been. Because I have looked for my God, I find my God all the more easily in my day. My acts of the presence of God are a focusing, and they bring an increasing consciousness of his presence. Looking for his presence brings me to why I am there in my prayer."

-“Prayer” by Joseph M. McCloskey, in Sharing the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. Fleming, pp. 47–48
 

The Quiet Beginnings

"Jesus identified himself as one “preaching the good news.” Jesus, first and foremost, proclaimed himself an “evangelizer.” He talked about God. He talked about God’s sons and daughters. He talked about God’s world. Everything Jesus described—the first rays of sunlight, birds nesting, an old woman giving her little bit of money in the temple; whatever he listened to—spring water flowing, a baby’s cry, musicians at a wedding feast; things that he could smell and taste—the freshness of a spring rain, the rich flavor of wine; whatever he touched—the mud to put on a blind man’s eyes, the coldness of a young man’s dead body, the warmth of John’s embrace, or the locktight hold of Mary Magdalen on Easter morning: everything spoke to him of the wonder of each of God’s creatures, but even deeper down the wonder and beauty of God.

And so Jesus could tell simple stories about seeds and growth, about wedding banquetes and joy, about being neighbors and doing good to battered strangers. Every time, in every instance, he is talking about God and our dealings with God. . . .

What does that say about us as Jesus’ followers? To be evangelizers we do not have to go off to school and get degrees in theology. We do not have to exile ourselves to another country. All we need to do is deal with the people in our everyday world the way Jesus talked and dealt with the people in his everyday world"

- Prisms for a Christ-Life, Fleming, pp. 30–31

The Risen Jesus Seeks His Friends

What can we say about Peter? He is as real and tangible as any figure in the Gospels. He embodies qualities and characteristics with which almost everyone can identify: he was real, ordinary, impetuous, and vulnerable; he was headstrong, generous, determined, and loving. He was strong and he was weak; he saw and he was blind; he was unpredictable and he was faithful. He thought he could walk on water, and he needed Jesus to save him from drowning. He attacked the servant with his sword in the Garden of Olives, and he cowered before a servant girl in Herod’s courtyard. He identified Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of the Living God; and he denied three times that he even knew Him.

Peter promised to remain faithful to Jesus even in Jerusalem, and he wept at betraying Him. He saw Jesus transfigured, and he saw Him crucified. He recognized Jesus by the seashore after the resurrection. . . . 

But . . . it is not in his personhood that Peter’s primary spiritual significance is to be found, but rather in how he lived out his faith in his friend Jesus, and how in turn Jesus guided him. . . . 

Peter’s weaknesses and failures were not his enemies. They were the medium for his own self-discovery, and his admitting his shortcomings led him to Jesus. . . . Let us hope that we can be like Peter, who through his weaknesses came to know Jesus.

-To Share in the Life of Christ: Experiencing God in Everyday Life, Gooley, pp. 69–70

The Fire of God's Spirit

Our Pentecost experience may not include rushing wind or fiery tongues, but the presence of the Spirit in our lives is still meant to be—as in Paul’s communities—the mark of God’s ownership.

. . . The truest reality is that the church is one people assembled, all belonging to the Spirit, marked with God’s ownership. Living this reality consciously must be part of our personal effort. Our personal witnessing of this reality is central to our evangelizing efforts. . . .

What does God’s ownership mean for us? God’s ownership of us, marked by the presence of the Spirit in our lives, is meant to shine out in our way of acting. The traditional expression is “giving glory to God.” Giving glory means that we become transparent enough that God and God’s life and God’s love can shine out through us. For example—to draw from the everyday behaviors suggested by St. Paul—the way we talk. St. Paul stresses that the person marked by the Spirit speaks only helpful words, words that build up and provide for what is needed. It is how Jesus speaks. What we say should do good for those who hear us. Beyond our words, what can distinguish our dealings with people—the occasions for God’s glory to shine out in us—is our kindness and readiness to forgive. It is how Jesus acted.

-Prisms for a Christ-Life, Fleming, p. 52

A Kingdom of Weeds and Wheat

Indeed if we put God first, our lives will inevitably provoke questions from others. They will notice something different about us, and they will inquire about it. Peter seems to imply study. He says we must be ready to give an answer. In order to give an answer, we need to know the answer first. There is no way around the hard work of wrestling with texts and grappling with ideas. It is an answer about the hope in our hearts, our trust that things will work out despite the difficulties, our conviction that there is more to life than our limited temporal existence—although we do not yet see what we hope for, we know it is possible and attainable. The source of Christian hope is the goodness and love of God. Because of God’s faithful love, we know that the future is full of promise.

Peter says we need to explain our faith “to anyone who asks.”. . . Peter does tell us how to answer: with gentleness and reverence. We are to present the truth in love. We do this, not to win arguments, but to win people. The strength of our convictions is to be communicated with tact and respect.

- “Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship” by Thomas G. Casey, in Sharing the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. Fleming, pp. 162–63

Already Now and Not Yet

Jesus lived for others. And so it would be an error to confine our following of Him simply to our own daily concerns. Focusing only on our personal and spiritual growth erects a barrier between our lives and the life that pulses in humanity. As members of Christ’s body, we are so linked and interrelated with one another that our tasks, dedication, and commitments are no longer ours; they belong to the whole church.

The support of other people is crucial for the disciple to remain faithful to living out the Gospel. The acceptance, affirmation, and trust found in a community inspire in us the courage to do this.

It is significant that Jesus’s disciples spent time with one another. Rarely did He send them out alone; He sent them two by two. Following Jesus calls us into relationship. "How can we say we love God whom we cannot see if we do not love those whom we do see?” (1 Jn. 4:20). . . . Following Jesus builds a community of people who share the values, thoughts, and lifestyle of Jesus.

-To Share in the Life of Christ: Experiencing God in Everyday Life, Gooley, pp. 73–75

Still Now but Not Yet

The kingdom comes in myriad ways, some explicitly religious, many only implicitly so. We can and do find God incarnate in Paschal Triduum liturgies as well as in rather routine daily Masses; in powerful sacramental moments as in exquisite sunsets or a deer crossing the road at some country retreat; in the warmth of old friends, comfortable clothes, and mellow music as well as in the discovery of new relationships and the unexplored terrain of new ideas; in the gathering of colleagues and friends for professions, ordinations, anniversaries, and even funerals; and in vacation times. . . .

Wherever there is love, life, and hope (that is, resurrection) in the face of life’s limits, including death, we who are [Christians] should point and say, “There is God’s kingdom at hand.” When those life-giving moments are in church (liturgy, Scripture, religious education, a retreat weekend, social-justice ministry), let us sing a full-throated alleluia. But when such moments are part of church in its more cosmic sense or beyond the church in a kingdom-coming sense, . . . there too we should point to God’s incarnate grace and voice praise.

-“Ecclesial Burnout” by Richard C. Sparks, in Dwelling in the House of the Lord: Catholic Laity and Spiritual Tradition, ed. Fleming, p.36
 

Living Now Eternal Life

There is a tendency to think of metaphors as something purely linguistic—a verbal ornamentation that is pretty, but apart from that, pretty ineffective. But a metaphor such as “You are the salt of the earth” (Mt 5:13) is much more than a figure of speech. It challenges our taken-for-granted relationship with things, it uproots and dislocates us from our customary understanding of ourselves. More than that, a metaphor enlarges and deepens our knowledge. We understand ourselves and our relatedness in a new way: “I am the vine and you are the branches” (Jn 15:5). Jesus’ metaphors—salt, light, bread, sheep, and so on—take us beyond ourselves, toward transcendence. Even though they are made of sensible and tangible realities, they simultaneously lift us up into the realm of the spirit: “I am the bread of life” (Jn 6:35). Making connections among disparate realities, Jesus’ metaphors put a fragmented world back together.

. . . The central theme of Jesus’ preaching, the kingdom of God (today one could perhaps say “the dream of God”), is already mysteriously present in all the small-scale events and happenings of our daily lives.

. . . [Jesus] constantly proclaims the kingdom of God. His mind is constantly directed toward the revelation or manifestation of God. although God’s kingdom is already breaking into the present, Jesus sees that its full realization is in the future

-“Ripeness Is Everything: Wise Discipleship” by Thomas G. Casey, in Sharing the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. Fleming, pp. 166–67

The Enduring Pentecost of the Spirit

God’s passionate love for us yearns for a kingdom of justice, peace, and love on this globe. He has chosen His disciples to start it.

We can look at ourselves as the unfolding of God’s hopes for the earth. God the Almighty yearns for people who collaborate with Him in creating something new: a people who are like the Son of God—His brothers and sisters. Each disciple shares in this vocation: bring the Reign of Christ. This call puts some demands on us. It means that we have to find out what God is doing, and do it, freely and generously. This is “doing God’s will.”

We do that in imitation of Jesus of Nazareth, who kept the Father’s will perfectly. He said He could do “only what He sees the Father doing” (John 5:19).

We are meant to do that, too. Then we show to the world around us what God is doing through His power to bring together a people of His own.

We are God’s power at work in the world. We are the promise and the beginning of His Kingdom. It’s all God’s work.

Finding Christ in the World, Tetlow and Ackels, p. 36
 

The Gift of the Easter People

What is the face of God we see here? It is the Jesus who steps forward and chooses us; it is the Jesus who wants us in his company. It is the Jesus who wants to share with us the responsibility of laboring for God’s kingdom. Salvation is God’s gift, and Jesus invites us to be participants in this saving work of God. God’s mercy knows no bounds. We ourselves, the very ones needing mercy, are called to be the extensions of God’s mercy. Jesus beckons us, and in his face we see, not an indifferent inviting glance, but a fiery determination that would leave the ninety-nine to search out the lost one.

We again feel the movement of a growing relationship. We see the face of God whose forgiving love wants us to play an integral part in God’s redemptive action, to be busy with Christ about the Kingdom of God. God wants us to be involved in his saving action.

Jesus has a dream; it is God’s dream. Jesus calls every man and woman and child to enter into that dream with him. When in our prayer we bring our life dreams into the dream of Jesus, we find how we are to use all the talents and drives and passions that are God’s gifts to us. We allow God to transform our drives and passions in ways that we could never have dreamed of. . . . Have we considered seriously Jesus’ dream about the reign of God and his invitation to us to be together with him and labor with him?

-Like the Lightning: The Dynamics of the Ignatian Exercises, Fleming, pp. 66, 109