Lies of the Threshold Guardians
Chapter 4: The Ignatian Myth & Narrative Project
This is the fourth part of a limited series I’m calling The Ignatian Myth & Narrative Project. If you want to get caught up, read:
And so, we come to the first threshold, the juncture of our spiritual adventure in which we make an intentional choice: We will cross over. We will step into the unknown. We’ve committed ourselves to answering the call, and now we’re going to see what we’re made of.
Yet, again, we pause. Because the call still rings in our ears—and it makes us nervous. Anxious. We have placed ourselves on a path that will necessarily bring us into darkness and hardship and suffering.
“The usual person is more than content, even proud, to remain within the indicated bounds, and popular belief gives [them] every reason to fear so much as the first step into the unexplored,” Joseph Campbell writes (p 64).
It’s at this moment, then, that we must interrogate our own beliefs, those “popular” notions that we’ve been told—ideas about where we belong and what we can do and who we can be. Because now, at this threshold, we face something dark, something sinister.
“Anyone unable to understand a god sees it as a devil,” Campbell writes (77)—and I think that’s an arresting line.
Because how often does our God invite us onward, invite us to become something more, something great, something that only God dreams for our vocation? And yet, how often do we stop ourselves?
I couldn’t do that. I’m not good enough. I don’t have the skills or the experiences or the clout.
We don’t see God’s hand beckoning us forward; instead, we see only the lies of a culture that would keep us in place.
St. Ignatius of Loyola frequently refers to the evil spirit as the “enemy of our human nature”—and how true that is. This enemy would suppress our truest nature, cloud our judgment with lies that keep us pinned to a broken status quo.
I can’t cross that threshold into a new job, a new relationship, a new adventure. I’m not enough.
We mistake God’s invitation for the enemy’s whispered lies.
But there’s more to consider here. Because God does not stop beckoning. That clarion call to adventure blares ever on. And even these whispered lies that would keep us bound to the near side of the threshold can be inverted and transcended and used to catapult us into our vocation.
Simply ask yourself: Why?
Why don’t I believe that this job is for me or this person is worthy of my time or that new city is where I belong? Why? That simple word turns us inward—where of course, we encounter Christ alive.
“Threshold guardians,” Campbell continues, “ward away all incapable of encountering the higher silence within.” (77)
But we are capable of that sort of contemplation—each and every one of us. Do not let worries lead to paralysis; let them lead to questions, questions that demand to be grappled with.
And with those question ready to hand, we step across the threshold in search of answers.
And another thing:
One of the coolest parts of writing a book is getting a big ol’ box of authors copies delivered to your doorstep. That happened this week—and it was awesome.
Which means, we’re getting REALLY close to pub date for “My Life with the Jedi: The Spirituality of Star Wars!” I hope you’re even a fraction as excited as I am!
It’s not too late to preorder your copy and join the illustrious group of folks who made “My Life with the Jedi” a #1 new release on Amazon this week!
And if that’s not enough, I wrote a little reflection on Star Wars for Archdiocese of Miami’s running series on looking at movies through a Catholic lens. Read it here.
And I have a new reflection up over at IgnatianSpirituality.com just in time for Lent!