John J. “Jake” Braithwaite, SJ

Over the last few years, I’ve developed a great devotion to St. Elizabeth. When praying about the Visitation, it occurred to me that she must have thought she was carrying the Messiah. In contrast to Mary’s pregnancy, hers was so much more portentous: Her age was advanced, it was announced to her husband in the Temple, and then he was mute for nine months! How strange for her to get this visit from her cousin that defied her interpretation of the events.

I think that happens for a lot of us. We think we know what God has planned for us. We think we’ve correctly interpreted the signs. We think we’ve earned some sort of reward after a life of service. And that’s just not how God works. Grace is so much more surprising, so much stranger than the channels we’d like to run it through. Elizabeth is constantly pushing me to humility about what might be in store.

While in first studies at Loyola University Chicago, another Jesuit introduced me to CrossFit. I got hooked quickly, and it became an important part of my getting to know the new cities to which I’ve been missioned. Especially during the moments of formation that can be super academic, it has been a great way to stay healthy and get out of my head for at least an hour a day.

In California, my CrossFit community has been especially encouraging. One member hosted my post-diaconate ordination party at her restaurant! Another is a local rabbi, and we have regular conversations about the Hebrew Bible. Plus, we’re all getting a great workout in every day.

Prior to entering, I understood a Jesuit vocation as a process of giving up. By taking vows as a Jesuit, I was giving up relationships, giving up money and giving up my freedom. My experience has been very different from that. The sacrifices of the vocation are real, but they pale in comparison to everything I receive as a Jesuit.

What I have given up in an exclusive relationship I receive back tenfold in the rich tapestry of friendships I’ve been able to cultivate. I remain close with students I worked with on the streets of Chicago serving those living on the streets. I remain close with actors I directed during a summer in Honduras. I remain close with fellow Jesuits I studied with in Nairobi. I couldn’t have imagined such a network.

What I have given up in riches I receive back in a wealth of global experiences that surpass any vacation I might have planned. I’ve lived in a dozen different cities and have been able to experience the cultural life of many of them. I’ve tried local staples from deep dish pizza in Chicago to ugali in Nairobi to pupusas in El Salvador.

What I have given up in making my own choices I receive back in a network of interdependence that has shaped me. I didn’t want to go to Rochester for fear of the weather, but I wound up learning immensely from middle school students there. I had hoped for an adventurous summer in Spain, but instead worked at a soup kitchen in Tijuana relying on peasant Mexican women for friendship and tasty meals. Jesuit mentors advised me to work at San Quentin, where I’ve followed in their footsteps to learn about priesthood from the most marginalized members of society.

Very few of these experiences would have been possible as a lay man. My Jesuit vocation has gifted me immensely.

During regency, I lived with Fr. Bill Cain, SJ. In addition to a number of years working in various Jesuit schools, Bill has spent much of his Jesuit life as a writer, working in television, film and theater. He’s also the award-winning author of “The Diary of Jesus Christ” and “The Book of Cain.” In our three years living together, Bill taught me about what being a Jesuit means.

Given his exceptionally creative mind, Bill was helpful in pointing out to me where Jesus was at work during my life with the students at Brooklyn Jesuit Prep. More than once, I would come home discouraged after a long middle school day, and Bill would immediately see how grace was operative even in the most difficult moments. I never had an excuse not to pray when I lived with him; our conversations often blossomed into rich contemplations with Jesus.

Bill has an exceptional memory, and he frequently helped to put different aspects of my experience into a larger perspective. He would compare various struggles I was going through with the early days of Nativity or the opening years at Homeboy Industries. He assured me that creating something always involved breaking some eggs. He helped me to understand myself as part of a proud lineage.

Bill is also the most caring Jesuit I’ve ever met. He checks in and follows up regularly and earnestly. I have never known a teacher to grade papers with the intentionality that he does. He spends hours poring over every jot and tittle. Among other Jesuits, he always digs to the heart of their vocation. When someone would irritate me, he would help me to see the journey they were on and how the specific irritations were a manifestation of their larger life story. Whether other Jesuits or students, Bill sees what is great in someone and encourages it to grow.

Perhaps most importantly, Bill allowed me to be his priest apprentice. Stuck inside during many COVID weekends, we frequently celebrated Mass just the two of us. The liturgies were an ongoing conversation. Together, we’d try and get to the heart of each of the rituals. With him, I developed a much greater reverence for the work of a priest.

During my semester abroad at Hekima University College in Nairobi, Kenya, I lived in a community of Jesuits from all over the African continent. With my typical American perspective, I had to learn about the various intracontinental dynamics and tensions. For the first few weeks, I absorbed a ton of information about my brothers and their homelands.

The joy of Jesuit community quickly followed. Our community dinners were places of raucous laughter and deep sharing. Despite vast differences in life experiences, we had a common language in Jesus which transcended those worldly barriers. I brought into prayer civil conflicts that I didn’t know about before arriving, and they took into prayer my brothers’ issues with addiction. Our common bond as Jesuits gave us permission to rely on one another.