Letting the Ass Decide: the Truth Revealed

It finally made sense

the beyond me-ness of it, I mean,

when Ignatius let the his ass decide

instead of his head.

He had met the Moor on the trail

or what was left of the deferent Moslem

who accepted Chritianinty to keep his job

and for his family, their home.

And so the proto-Jesuit and the Mohammedan

rode their donkeys wherer their two roads met

and their minds met, too, until the road

and their minds branched off, diverged.

The Moor affably admitted

that Jesus as Christ made sense to him

but he was stuck on the Virgin birth

and bowed a goodbye to Ignatius.

As he lost sight of the moor

Ignatius’ battle wound throbbed,

the place where he was broken

from his military past.

He wanted to pull the animal round

and go back to the fork in the trail

where the likable Moor had disparaged Our Lady,

had questioned her Virginity and gone his way.

He wanted to draw his sword

and draw heretic blood.

But he wanted, too

to stay the course of the Spirit.

He had found it along another trail

along the quiet Cardoner,

the cool water flowing

from Montserrat to the Sea.

Hot blood or cool water?

It was more than he could decide.

He dropped the reins onto the neck of the ass

and let the animal discern the way.

For years at work I would fault the Jesuits

for indecisiveness, even as I loved their Spirit.

and this Advent I came to know Joseph better,

and know how the meek do indeed inherit the earth.