Good Enough, I’m Ready: Me and the Other Francis

by Erin M. Conway

This statue of Saint Francis Xavier
welcomes visitors at Xavier College Prep
in Palm Desert, CA

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I’m unapologetically fascinated by the Jesuits. Pope Francis, Greg Boyle, John Foley, ¹ Pedro Arrupe, Ignatius Loyola… I could go on and on about each of them, and I will if you let me. It will come as no surprise, then, that in honor of his Feast Day just a few days ago (December 3), I found myself reflecting on another of my favorite Jesuits, the other Francis: Saint Francis Xavier.

Growing up, I’d always been vaguely aware of Francis Xavier’s existence as an influential Jesuit (there are, after all, both a high school and college in my home state of Ohio that bear his name), but the first time I encountered him as more than the patron of a rival sports team² was in Chris Lowney’s book Heroic Leadership. Lowney tells the following story:

In the early years of the Jesuit order (when the company numbered only 10 men), the King of Portugal approached Ignatius and asked for Jesuits to travel to India as missionaries. "It was an opportunity no ambitious fledgling company could pass up. Twenty percent of the company (two Jesuits) was designated for India. One fell ill on the verge of departing. Informed that he was needed to replace his sick colleague, Xavier instantly replied, ‘Good enough. I'm ready’ or ‘Splendid. I'm your man’ as later Jesuit generations often rendered it. Within forty-eight hours he had patched up his extra pair of pants, visited the pope for a blessing, packed up his life and departed."

Because of this rapid change of plans, “no one briefed him about Asia before his departure” and he entered this great adventure without true knowledge of what was ahead. Nevertheless, the 10 year odyssey that followed cemented Xavier as the first and most widely known Jesuit missionary in history.³

I read this story a year into my teaching life at Xavier College Prep (XCP) and I remember being overwhelmed by the similarities between Francis Xavier’s journey to India and my own journey to Palm Desert, California, and the school that bore his name.

After three consoling years as a volunteer teacher in Baltimore City and a frazzled summer of trying to find somebody (anybody!) to hire me, XCP offered me a job in late July of 2012. I said yes, agreeing to take a chance on a school and a position that I realistically knew nothing about (I had applied to teach Theology and was hired to *probably* help the new Athletic Director). ⁴ Within two weeks of my own version of “Good enough, I’m ready,” I had driven back to Baltimore to clear out my storage unit, packed up my most essential possessions into my two-door Honda Civic, rented an apartment in a city I’d never visited and hadn’t even heard of less than a month before, said goodbye to my family, and journeyed 2,500 miles across the country.

Not quite 48 hours, but like Francis Xavier, I was called.

Standing in solidarity with my students at a Mass on the US-Mexico border in Nogales, AZ.

Beyond the initial resonance I experienced, however, the longer I sit with Francis Xavier’s story, the deeper my appreciation becomes for his experience and our similarities.

As an early Jesuit and as a missionary, Xavier watched his life be transformed each time he responded to God’s call to go somewhere new and build community. I too have felt my life transformed by each school I’ve worked in: Saint Ignatius Loyola Academy, Xavier College Prep, and Saint Martin de Porres. My work has taught me more about myself, love, solidarity, accompaniment, and friendship than I ever thought possible.

When called upon by God, Xavier left his best friend (Ignatius) and travelled around the globe to do the work God was calling him to. He left well aware that he would likely never return to his work in Rome or to Ignatius. It feels more than coincidental that I began my career at a school named for the founder of the Jesuits, and then, like Xavier, I was called to leave Ignatius and the students I loved with the knowledge that I would likely never return to the work I was first called to do.

And finally, before Xavier left for Asia he was never “briefed” on what was ahead of him, he simply agreed to the mission, trusting that what he knew was “good enough.” As I reflect on my own life as a missionary of sorts, I realize that I too was never truly “briefed” before any of my transitions. Although I knew I’d be teaching seventh grade English when I moved to Baltimore and had walked the hallways of my school, I truly had no idea what “being a teacher” really meant. Similarly, when I moved to Palm Desert, I’d never seen the school, the town, or any of the individuals I’d be working with for what would be the next three years. And most recently, when I returned home to Cleveland, I once again found myself accepting a job I hadn’t initially applied for at I school I’d never seen.

Some of my favorite companions on the journey --
friends and coworkers at XCP.

So where did my yeses come from? Because in each and every case, my yes to the call was emphatic. I may have not been “briefed,” but I also didn’t feel unprepared. I understood in my heart that whatever I knew and felt at that moment was “good enough.” I was ready. That is a yes that can only come from God. A yes that can only come from a heart captured by the Ignatian mission.

And so while I find solace in these connections, I think Francis Xavier’s story resonates so deeply with me because it also offers a continual challenge. Xavier died within sight of the shore of China, his ultimate dream mission. Can I continue to say yes even when my dream lies just out of reach? Is my yes as immediate if I know I will never actually reach my goal?

And when Xavier left his companion Ignatius in Rome in 1542, he did so with the knowledge that he would never see his best friend again. EVER. Could I ever truly leave the people I loved behind to do God’s work? Our world is smaller than Xavier’s was, and between discount airlines, social media, and FaceTime, no one is truly far away. But what if they were? Would I say yes with the same joy? Do I really trust God enough?

The yes to these questions are not as immediate but their challenge is the same. A life in Christ is not mine, it’s God’s.

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1 Father John Foley, SJ is the founder of the first Cristo Rey High School in Chicago, IL and the eventual founder of the Cristo Rey Network.^↩

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2 Cleveland Saint Ignatius and Cincinnati Saint Xavier, as the largest all boys high schools in the state of Ohio, are intense athletic rivals. My younger brother played both football and baseball at Ignatius, and as a result, I always thought of Xavier as just that team we wanted to beat.^↩

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3 Lowney, Chris. Heroic Leadership: Best Practices from a 450-Year-Old Company That Changed the World. Loyola Press, 2005. p. 130; 133.^↩

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4 Fun fact, I actually applied for the job that had just been given to either Dan or Dave but hadn’t been pulled from the JSEA job boards. (Editor's Note from Dan: Pooling our anecdotal memory, we think I had gotten my job separate from that posting, and then that fellow Restless Heart, Dave, had been hired for the posted job just as Erin and her excellent application came onto the scene. XCP smartly snapped her up, found some transitional duties for her, and then utilized her in excellent, fuller ways moving forward.)^↩