In July, I stepped away from the familiar pace of church life and entered into a monthlong spiritual retreat with the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. In the quiet, in the structure, in the long hours of prayer and reflection, I found something I hadn’t fully realized I needed: space to listen deeply, to reconnect with my vocation, and to remember who I am in Christ.

I didn’t anticipate how profoundly renewing this experience would be. The silence wasn’t quiet; it was loud with questions that I needed to consider. As a United Methodist pastor, I concluded the retreat with a growing conviction that this centuries-old Catholic practice has much to offer Protestant clergy today.

The Jesuits have built their entire formation process around the Exercises. Twice during their training, they undertake a full 30-day silent retreat — once at the beginning of their journey toward ordination and again before taking final vows. These long retreats are not optional extras. They are essential. Every year, Jesuits return for an eight-day silent retreat rooted in the same spiritual rhythm. That practice, so regular and intentional, anchors their life and ministry.

It made me wonder: What if Protestants embraced something similar?

A deep well worth drawing from

It may seem strange to suggest that a 16th-century Catholic saint could help shape the soul of Protestant ministry in the 21st century. Yes, there is language (particularly the gendered language in his Discernment of Spirits) that reflects the times, but once I stepped into the Exercises, the connection began to feel natural.

Ignatius and John Wesley, for all their theological differences, were after something remarkably similar: a way to help people actually grow in grace. They were less interested in static belief and more interested in transformation. Both created communities of accountability and practice. Both were committed to helping ordinary people grow in holiness. Wesley’s class meetings and Ignatius’ spiritual direction sessions echo each other in their pursuit of grace-filled transformation.

Of course, theological distinctions remain between their traditions. But the spiritual wisdom within the Exercises crosses those lines, not by erasing them, but by calling us deeper into Christ. It’s a framework that adapts well to various contexts, rooted as it is in the life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus.

The Exercises are biblical to the core

For Protestant pastors concerned that the Exercises might feel too foreign or too Catholic, it’s worth noting how deeply biblical they are. The heart of the retreat involves immersing yourself in Gospel stories using prayerful imagination to walk beside Jesus, to listen to his teaching, to witness his compassion, to sit at the foot of the cross.

This isn’t some abstract spiritual detour. It’s a way of letting Scripture come alive in the imagination, of letting Christ meet us where we are. Wesley, despite his theological differences with Rome, read broadly across Christian traditions, including figures influenced by Ignatian thought.

On Aug. 16, 1742, Wesley wrote in his journal that Ignatius was “surely one of the greatest men that ever was engaged in the support of so bad a cause.” That’s a backhanded compliment, perhaps, but it speaks to Wesley’s capacity to respect spiritual seriousness, even where he disagreed.

Today we are freer to think ecumenically. We can acknowledge the gifts other traditions offer and thoughtfully integrate what helps us follow Jesus more faithfully.

A way for clergy to practice Ignatian spirituality

What might this look like, practically, for Protestant clergy?

As a starting point, we could include an Ignatian-style retreat during formational periods before ordination. Instead of focusing only on interviews and academic benchmarks, we might ask candidates: “How is Christ being formed in you through prayer?”

We might also encourage an annual five- or eight-day silent retreat as part of clergy life. Not as a luxury, but as a kind of Sabbath or “sanctuary in time” as renowned rabbi and Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel put it. In a time when many pastors are worn thin by constant demands and complex change, this rhythm could offer a necessary return to God as the source and ground of our being.

And beyond the retreat itself, the Exercises provide questions that never stop being relevant: Who is Jesus to me now? Where is God calling me? What do I most desire in Christ? They help us recalibrate again and again, so that our leadership flows from relationship rather than exhaustion.

For the church, not just the clergy

While the Exercises are most often associated with clergy and spiritual directors, their wisdom can benefit the whole church. The daily Examen, for example, is a simple and powerful tool for laypeople to reflect on God’s presence throughout the day. Imaginative prayer practices could enrich confirmation classes or adult discipleship groups. Church councils could begin meetings not with reports, but with silence and prayerful listening.

Imagine a church whose life is shaped not just by programming but by spiritual attentiveness, where discernment and deep listening become the norm.

Rooted and reaching

One phrase emerged clearly for me during the retreat: rooted in Christ, rooted in kinship. The deeper we go in Christ, the more we find ourselves connected to others. The Exercises don’t pull us away from the world. They prepare us to re-enter it with greater compassion and clarity.

We’re living in a moment of upheaval. Many pastors are weary. Many congregations feel uncertain. In such a time, what we need most isn’t a new technique or trend. It’s depth. It’s prayer. It’s a way to hear God again.

I’ve committed to return to the Exercises each year. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s become essential. If I hope to point others toward Christ and accompany them on their journey, I must continually be drawn by Christ myself. Oddly enough, St. Ignatius, a figure I once regarded from a safe historical distance, has become one of my most reliable guides.

This isn’t about becoming Jesuits. It’s about being more deeply Christian. It’s about letting God form us through the wisdom of those who have walked the path of discipleship before us.

Let’s be rooted. Let’s be bold. Let’s draw from the deep wells of our shared tradition for the sake of Christ, his church and the world we are called to serve.