The Parable of the Sponge and the Rock: A Contemplation In Spirit

Arcabas "The Supper At Emmaus" 1983

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here once was a ministry—a lively, passionate, deeply committed one. It pulsed with energy. It had full calendars, overflowing schedules, back-to-back meetings, and endless activities designed to serve, evangelize, and inspire. From the outside, it looked vibrant. But inside, something had begun to harden.

It wasn’t sin that hardened it, nor rebellion. It was fatigue. Pressure. The creeping sense that success or "magis mihi" (what is more pleasing to me) is what saves. Benedict XVI called this the "dictatorship of relativism." Francis, during his pontificate, used the phrase "spiritual worldliness," which he borrowed from Henri de Lubac. He constantly referred to it at least fifty times, to warn everyone about how infinitely more dangerous this is—the "evil" of self-referentiality. No wonder many church and civil society leaders get caught up in the rat race. Day after day. Year after year. Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote:

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil, Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

Then one of them—an older member—brought up a strange question at a team reflection day. “Are we becoming… a rock?”

The others looked puzzled.

He explained: “In the Spiritual Exercises, St Ignatius of Loyola describes how the good spirit touches the soul—like a drop of water entering a sponge. But when we’re hardened or resisting grace, the touch comes sharply, like a drop of water hitting a rock. The water’s the same. The difference is what it hits” (CF Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, SE 335).

They sat in silence.

He continued: “I think the grace is still falling on us—but we’re not absorbing it. It’s bouncing off. Splashing. We’re too caught up with our own selves in the rat race. Too rigid. We’ve become high-calorie—full of activity but lacking the one thing necessary that truly satisfies and nourishes the soul.”

One by one, the others began to speak. They shared how tired they felt. How joy had started giving way to pressure. How they were quick to react, but slow to pray, to listen. One admitted, “I haven’t really listened for God’s whisper in weeks. I’ve just been trying to survive the schedule.”

And so, a new image began to form in their hearts—not one of more output or better strategies, but of a simple sponge. One who knows he or she is a sinner yet called to absorb the unconditional love of the Father who loved us first (Dilexit nos). Unlike the rock, the sponge receives. It welcomes. It does not splash back the drop of grace—it drinks it. Quietly. Deeply in the here and now.

They realized that becoming a sponge didn’t mean giving up on the mission. It meant returning to the Source daily and being delivered daily (The Lord's Prayer). Letting action rise from contemplation and contemplation from action (Fr Jerome Nadal's "contemplativus simul in actione," contemplative at the same time in action). Letting decisions flow from discerning love ("discreta caritas"). Letting meetings be framed by prayer and stillness, not unfreedom, agitation, and efficiency.

It meant—above all—trusting that grace was not earned by busyness, but received in stillness and interior freedom. One cannot catch up with grace more easily or quickly because grace is always available like a breath of fresh air.

They didn’t change everything overnight. It was a good sign! But they began to ask the "soft-power" questions: Have we prayed with this, or just planned it? Is this activity a catch-up plan—or a soaking in of God's goodness? What is the Lord dropping into our lives right here and now… and are we truly self-aware and present to Him?

And slowly, their ministry began to soften. Meetings began with silence. Events became fewer, but deeper. People lingered in prayer. Laughter returned. So did joy. They learned what the Exercises had always whispered: The drop keeps falling (Henri Nouwen's "downward mobility" in contrast to upward progress). The Spirit keeps stirring (Pope Francis's "squilibrato," off balance). "Trustworthy hope" keeps coming. "[It] does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us" (Rom 5:5).

The only question is: Are you a sponge or a rock? In a world that measures success in noise and numbers, may we become soft again—sponge-like, supple, ready to receive. So that every drop of grace may not be wasted… but absorbed. And every action may not just be busy… but full of love.

This can serve as a consideration or contemplation to guide individuals or an institution in the spiritual process of discernment. Fr JM Manzano SJ