Last week, Sue and I were up early on our last full day in the San Diego area, prowling the relatively empty streets of the historic Gaslamp District for a breakfast place. We ducked into 6th & G Breakfast Company, conveniently located a few blocks from our hotel on the corner of, well, 6th and G Streets.
As we sat down, I found myself facing some of the restaurant’s evocative graffiti-like art, including the art shown above with the words, Amor Fati. My Latin is not what it should be so, of course, I Googled it. According to that veritable font of all wisdom, Wikipedia, Amor Fati is, “a Latin phrase that may be translated as “love of fate. It is used to describe an attitude in which one sees everything that happens in one’s life, including suffering and loss as a good or, at the very least, necessary.”
As I pondered the phrase and its meaning, my mind kept going to another piece of “art,” a little plaque that hangs on our screened porch back in St. Louis. It says, simply, “It is what it is.” That little saying, we believe, is an act of faith and a way of God-centered living. It’s a willingness to accept change as it comes and welcome the little daily surprises that arise as being, as Wikipedia described Amor Fati, “good or, at the very least, necessary.” Within the framework of Ignatian spirituality where I spend a good chunk of time as a spiritual director, writer and administrator, the phrase is a reminder that we can, indeed, “find God in all things.” Not just in the good and the beautiful and the obviously divine and holy. In ALL things. Faith requires us to be open to change and to find God in all those shifting moments.
All of this reminded me of another piece of street art that we saw earlier in the week just north of San Diego in the historic beach town of Carlsbad. The 18-foot-tall mural, shown above, is called “Catnap,” and was created by a local artist named Michael Summers. It features two large black and white tigers beneath rain-like drips of vibrant color. One is sheltered by an umbrella, while the other sleeps peacefully, allowing the colorful rain to change it into something new. A third tiger, a small cub, hasn’t made up its mind yet. And that’s exactly the theme of the mural, we were told by a local walking tour guide. Are we willing to allow ourselves to be changed?
Summers, I read in an online article, said the idea for his mural was inspired by a quote from the American Protestant theologian Reinhold Neibuhr, who once wrote: “Change is the essence of life. Be willing to surrender what you are for what you may become.”
While faith might sometimes be described as an unwavering belief in some things that never change — like the idea of a creative and omniscient God — faith also calls us to constantly re-examine our lives and see where change might be both good and necessary. Faith demands that we allow ourselves to be changed by, with, and for God and for those around us. Faith challenges us to see and move beyond the prejudices, hatreds and “isms” that were and still sometimes are baked into lives of those who would call themselves religious. Christianity has historically been a pretty good hiding place, after all, for bigots, racists, and supremacists of all kinds. We are called to change that, even as we change ourselves.
Jim Manney, in his book of daily Ignatian reflections, What Matters Most and Why, echoes these ideas through the lens of Ignatian spirituality. He writes:
One of the hallmarks of an Ignatian approach is flexibility. Plans need to be adjusted if circumstances call for it. New situations need to be studied and understood….This attitude is both liberating and worrisome. It’s liberating because it gives room for creativity and makes it more likely that a suitable solution will be found. It’s worrisome because there’s more room to make mistakes…. But if you believe that God can be found in all things, you don’t have much choice. God is lurking in the new, unexpected situation. To find him, you need to be ready to change your mind and alter your plans.
