St. Ignatius Wouldn’t Care If You Went to the Gym

The email arrived in my inbox late at night. A missive from many years ago, I don’t remember the student or the subject, but I remember the postscript: “I am not up wantonly; RA duty just ended. Just wanted to let you know I’m not failing my cura personalis.” And with that, my delicate Jesuit soul died a little bit. 

This misuse of the Latin term, often translated as “care for the whole person,” is a particular bugaboo of mine, just ask any of my annoyed colleagues who have listened to me yammer on about it. But the truth is that this popular translation — often used devoid of context and history — can be heard on any number of college campuses, religious or not. So, what makes cura personalis a distinctive Jesuit term worth using at Holy Cross? 

As a matter of history, the Latin term only came into the lexicon in the mid-20th century and is derived from Jesuit governance, that is, the official relationship between a Jesuit Superior and a Jesuit in his care. The Superior, a local or regional leader, gets to know an individual man well — both his gifts and talents, as well as his foibles and growing edges — and in this way exercises care for him as an individual, offering both appropriate praise, as well as opportunities and points for feedback.

This is a far cry from how I often hear the term used at Holy Cross and in our other Jesuit institutions. Instead, what I encounter is the phrase deployed to signify something akin to self-care or an expression that challenges students, faculty, staff or alumni to make sure they are academically wellrounded or staying fit in mind, body and spirit. No, no, no, I say! The term as a Jesuit term is not turned in on itself in such a way and is not about resumé or bodybuilding.

Rather, cura personalis is an inherently relational concept. To wit: St. Ignatius wouldn’t care if you (generally) had a gym membership, or a standing appointment with a mental health care professional. Hear me out: He would not be hostile to these as worthy resources, per se, but he was not willing to paint with a broad brush, either. After all, individual attention is what underlies cura personalis. So, a gym membership might be good, but not for someone with an unhealthy attachment to working out, and, if you get to know someone on a deeper level, you might be in a position to offer such feedback.

Indeed, one cannot “achieve” a level of cura personalis as if it were a personal record in the weight room or “do” cura personalis in the same way you might check off errands to be run or products to be bought. Instead, cura personalis is an action, an offering to someone by someone else, usually in a position of authority or in a mentoring relationship. Cura personalis on Mount St. James, then, can be rightfully claimed in the class dean and class chaplain models, in faculty mentoring, in the counseling and health centers — indeed, in lots of places and spaces — anywhere a one-to-one focus or attention is paid in the service of caring for another as an individual, helping them to grow as a person. This true sense of the term leads to community building and relationship, and steers us away from selfishness and unhelpful navel-gazing. And the true sense of the term has a divine origin. For the ultimate goal of this Jesuit term is tied up in a Christian anthropology of human flourishing, in which Jesus Christ is held out as the model human being, par excellence.

Someone asked me recently: Is it possible that the meaning of the term is changing, since it is being used more widely and more frequently in this other popular way? I sure hope not; it’s my heritage, after all. St. Ignatius Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, wanted his nascent group of vowed men to be known by the way in which they lived their vow of obedience. But he did not understand obedience in a slavish way that says “Just do what I say.” Rather, obedience for Jesuits is lived in a radical transparency and openness with our superiors, so that we can properly receive an appropriate mission to serve God’s people. And Ignatius knew that to do so worthily and well, we individual Jesuits have to be known as persons and cared for in the unique circumstances of our lives, in weal and in woe.

That’s the authentic sense of cura personalis in the Jesuit tradition. Anything else is a caricature, I’m afraid, unworthy of the name — or, just fit for someplace else.

Rev. Keith Maczkiewicz, S.J. serves as vice president for mission and chief mission officer at Holy Cross.