New book recounts Jesuit formation, missionary work during The Sixties

The history of the Church is replete with spiritual autobiographies, many of them written by saints, and many more written by priests, religious, and laity who have not been raised to the altars. Many Catholics love a good conversion story or vocation story; we like to learn how the Lord works in the lives of our brothers and sisters. It can be moving, inspiring, and encouraging.

Fr. Barry Martinson, S.J., is the author of Diary of a Young Jesuit: All this Beauty Blooming (Ignatius Press, 2025). This is the latest in a long line of spiritual autobiographies and is a tremendous entry in that tradition. Fr. Martinson traces his early days and vocation story, and first six years of seminary training, before being assigned as a missionary to Taiwan. We read about his education, contemplation, and his being taken under the wing of a saintly Jesuit who left the Chinese missions for health reasons and became a spiritual father to Fr. Martinson.

Deeply insightful and often humorous, Diary of a Young Jesuit is an engrossing and illuminating look at the early religious life of a gifted young man.

Father Martinson recently spoke with Catholic World Report about his new book, the spiritual fruits that come from memoirs, and the challenges and blessings of working in foreign missions.

Catholic World Report: How did the book come about?

Fr. Barry Martinson: In our early Jesuit training, we were required to write home once a week, and for me, this practice continued all through my studies. Later, after working as a missionary in Taiwan for many years, I returned home for a short time to care for my ailing mother before she died. During that period, I discovered she had saved all the letters I had written to her since leaving home at 18 and joining the Jesuits. She told me that I would probably need them someday to write a book.

No sooner had I started perusing these letters than my eyes began filling with tears, not only from the moving content of these missives, or from nostalgia, but because they were so funny! I had forgotten what a great time we had in our early years in the Society of Jesus.

After reading hundreds of the letters, there was no doubt in my mind that they would become the starting point for the Diary of a Young Jesuit. Such heart-warming dispatches to my family constituted an authentic account of what life was like for us in the seminary during the tumultuous years of the 1960s.

In addition to writing weekly letters home, each novice also kept a daily record of his prayer life in a little booklet entitled Lumina (Lights). So, I had a record of both the outer and inner life of all that happened to me in the novitiate. Looking back, I realized that very few non-Jesuits would have known about our unique training. There was a surprising, sometimes shocking, treasure trove of personal history at my disposal, and I felt this should be available for others in narrative form.

What made those years especially indelible in my memory was an association with the elderly Father Francis Rouleau, a former China missionary who became my mentor. When our class invariably moved to different houses of formation, I kept up my correspondence with this saintly spiritual father. I could express to Father Rouleau my deepest yearnings as a Jesuit, and these were what eventually took shape in a strong desire to do foreign missionary work as he had done. Father Rouleau, of course, saved all my letters as well and later returned them to me.

The subject matter of my letters, combined with the journals I kept as a seminarian and other stories I wrote at that time, form the basis of this Diary. The book also includes the story of my vocation, which arose from the longing of my heart for a love that only God could give, and how this desire was fulfilled when I gave myself entirely to Him and entered the Jesuits.

Unlike other books on seminary life that I have come across (often written by those who have left religious life), my book is free from negativity, full of youthful optimism, and continually motivated by a God-given aspiration to become a future missionary and priest.

CWR: The subtitle of the book–“All this Beauty Blooming”–is from a poem by the Jesuit priest and poet Gerard Manley Hopkins. What is the significance of that poem to the book(s)?

Fr. Martinson: Even before entering the Society of Jesus, I was acquainted with the prose and poetry of Hopkins, and the works of this renowned 19th-century Jesuit have continued to inspire me until now. On my Vow Day, a Jesuit missionary working in Africa sent me a congratulatory letter that concluded with the words: “This, all this beauty blooming / This, all this freshness fuming / Give God while worth consuming.” This excerpt from the Hopkins poem “Morning Midday and Evening Sacrifice” encapsulated the oblation I was making that day at such a young age.

Some lines from another poem, Thomas Gray’s “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard”, could be cited by critics of such a reclusive departure from the world. For them, our hidden lives in the Jesuit novitiate might have been no more than a “flower born to blush unseen” and doomed to “waste its sweetness on the desert air.”

But we were young then and full of idealism, giving the best years of our lives to God while removed from “the world” and (some might say) living in “a desert”. The seedlings of our offering were already blooming in the rarified atmosphere of the novitiate, and they would grow and blossom with our practice of prayer, intellectual acuity, and brotherly love. We were like flowers planted in a secret garden, unseen by the outside world, where only God could tend to us. Our reclusive life was not a “waste” as Gray’s poem says. On the contrary, we were eager to offer the beauty and freshness of our young lives for God to consume, so that He could fulfill in us His salvific plan.

Another significant factor of the “beauty blooming” line, along with Hopkins’ other nature poems, relates to the bucolic environment in which we studied during those early years, which was anything but a “desert.” Before I entered the Jesuits, the only close contact I had with the all-encompassing nature that Hopkins wrote about was at an occasional Boy Scout camp. But in our Jesuit houses of formation, we had “villa days” in mountains, lakes, and beaches, where we were free to roam the environment in meditation and companionship. This, combined with our classical studies, which were conducted just a stone’s throw away from the beauty of nature, was like living in Arcadia. It was only for a time (six years for me, before I left for the Missions), but what a gift to look back on in gratitude. A contemplatio as Ignatius would call it.

CWR: Memoirs can be entertaining reads, but even better when they offer something of substance to the reader. What is it about your own story that will do the reader good? What can they learn from you?

Fr. Martinson: Although there are not many men who have gone through seminary training in the 1960s as I have done, and even fewer who have persevered, my story is not just about experiences in Jesuit training. It is also about growth, maturation, and a deepening understanding of the particular vocation God has given me. This Diary is very personal, but sometimes what is most personal is also most general. Our growth as individuals is common to all of us, whatever our state in life.

We can learn from reading about the experiences of others how to confront challenges, overcome obstacles, get along with our associates, and be inspired to do beautiful things for God. So, this is a book for everyone. Although there is no “preaching” in it, readers will be able to read between the lines of the diary to find comparable instances in their own lives and see themselves in my stories.

But I have an even deeper motivation in sharing these very personal stories with others, and that is to inspire them with the goodness that can be found in our traditional Catholic faith and in a commitment to loving and following Jesus more closely. There are many, especially among the young, who seem unaware of the riches of the mind and soul that Catholicism offers, which is embodied in its sacramental worship, inimitable art, and works of charity. To renew that sense of belonging in an age when so many have drifted away is certainly an aspiration of mine. I hope my book might impact others as a witness to our faith.

As my dear and saintly friend, 98-year-old Sister Paula of the Trinity, foundress of the Carmelite Sisters in Taiwan, wrote me after reading Diary of a Young Jesuit: “Through this book, those who do not yet know God may find Him, and those who already know Him may grow into a deeper relationship with Jesus.”

CWR: Would this be helpful for those discerning their vocation? Or do you intend it to have spiritual value for anyone, regardless of their state in life?

Fr. Martinson: All This Beauty Blooming is full of youthful optimism. It is the positive and personal story of a vocation told in the relaxed and often humorous voice of an 18 to 24-year-old that matures the longer it speaks. In that sense, it is a timely book for young people growing up, who will find in this volume a wealth of inspirations and right principles for maturing, choosing worthwhile objectives, and forming correct friendships.

Young adults can discover in these pages a treasure-trove of experiences arrived at only through trial and error, a strong will, and a great deal of physical and mental exertion. The book is also good reading material for their parents, who will learn much not only from my own life but also from that of my mother as she willingly sacrificed two of her sons for the priesthood–and to a life in the foreign missions.

In particular, I think the story of my early years as a Jesuit reveals a growing love and dedication for the poor, with a desire not only to work with them but to be one of them. This intense quest for a challenging, alternate lifestyle finds fulfillment during a summer of laboring in the fields and living in poverty with Mexican migrants.

Throughout the Diary, there is an attraction and interest in people and persons more than in tasks to fulfill or abstract ideas of apostolate. This seems closer to Our Lord’s way–the way he lived on earth––and it can gradually lead readers to a deeper understanding of how to follow Him, regardless of their state in life.

Although this book could be a guidepost for those who are discerning their vocation, or a nostalgic thrill for those already in religious life, I did not write it especially for these people. I wanted my diary to be accessible to anyone of any faith and any age, and the stories able to be understood and appreciated as much by a teenager addicted to his cellphone as a by theologian immersed in his exegesis. My style of writing can attest to the fact that the reader is far more important than the author.

CWR: Did your formation adequately prepare you for the decades of foreign mission work that followed? Could anything “adequately” prepare you for it?

Fr. Martinson: From the start of my life as a Jesuit, I was drawn to the foreign missions. So naturally, whenever I met a visiting Jesuit missionary, I would ask him what he felt was the most challenging aspect of missionary life and what I should do to prepare for it. Invariably, the answer was always the same. The challenge was “adaptability”, and I could prepare for missionary life by trying to be as adaptable as possible under all circumstances, which included studies, community life, and apostolates. So, in a sense, our very lives as Jesuits prepared us for missionary life.

In my case, I was particularly fortunate throughout my formative years to participate in a series of ministries that focused on minority groups such as Native Americans, Mexican migrants, African Americans in the inner city, and poor or disadvantaged people from all walks of life. These ministries were seamlessly integrated into my prayer and studies so they became a single focus. My prayer helped my ministries and my ministries helped me to pray and study by giving me a continuous motivation to do so. I might add that the key to all this was making friends with the people I worked with. This can readily be seen from the stories in my diary, and it encompasses one of the most enjoyable aspects of the book.

As far as specific training for missionary work, outside of various language courses and an anthropology class here and there, we had no special preparation before we were sent to the Missions. I think Jesuit training in general prepared each of us to be a missionary, either at home or abroad. This is because, basically, we do the same work as a foreign missionary as we would do “at home”, except in a culture different from our own and with a people different from ourselves. That is why “adaptability” is crucial.

To be able to adapt to a people, a language, and customs that may be completely different from what we are used to–that is a challenge. But it is also an unfathomable joy, which will be seen in the next three volumes of my diary, which detail my life as a missionary in Taiwan.

CWR: How has your Jesuit formation informed the way in which you look back on your life thus far, and approach the writing of this memoir? In other words, is there anything particularly Jesuit, or particularly Ignatian, about your approach?

Fr. Martinson: St. Ignatius’ concept of “Finding God in All Things” certainly played a part in my approach to writing this book. Because I could see God in the good as well as in the bad, and know that He was using blessings as well as failures to help me grow into the person he wanted me to be, the book has a positive, joyous flow to it, even during its darker moments.

The key Jesuit who transmitted this particular form of Ignatian spirituality to me, encompassing it by his life as well as by his words, was Father Francis Rouleau. In addition to my brother Jerry, Father Rouleau was the one who I turned to in times of crisis. It was he who “spiritualized” my moments of uncertainty and distress and promoted the growth in confidence that eventually led me to certainty about my desire to be a missionary.

I would also like to add that there is something about Ignatian spirituality that fits in very well with my innate artistic, musical, and literary talents. I could feel St. Ignatius looking down on me and thinking that he wants and needs someone like me, who might be a bit different than the ordinary mold, but someone who could add a touch of excitement, creativity, and uniqueness to our sometimes-mundane existence as Jesuits. Because of this all-embracive, Finding-God-in-All-Things spirituality, I have been encouraged at different stages in my formation to enhance my talents, especially in art. This becomes more apparent in the sequels to my first diary book.

Ignatian spirituality is, for me, very “open” and “missionary” by its very nature. Looking back on my life, I see how my prayer drew me to the desire to imitate Jesus in serving the poor and neglected, how St. Ignatius’ great meditation on The Kingdom encouraged me to want to dedicate myself to him by saving souls the way he chose to do so—by embracing the Cross.

All these spiritual concepts might have been just idealistic hopes and desires and nothing more but for the real-life examples of Father Rouleau, my brother Jerry, and a host of other Jesuits and classmates, who personified what I was looking for and made me feel I could do it, too, if that was God’s will for me. And I guess it was, because I’m still here after all these years.

CWR: You’ve done much work as a missionary outside the United States, mostly in non-Western cultures. Having come from (and done formation in) a Western nation yourself, have you found it challenging to bring the faith to a non-Western milieu?

Fr. Martinson: Maybe the challenge of our missionary work is not so much in bringing the faith to others in a non-Western milieu, but in discovering the seeds of faith that are already there and building on them. This is what some call “pre-evangelization”, and it demands a deep respect and admiration for the existing culture, an affirmation of the good rather than a condemnation of the bad.

From what I have seen, missionaries who are most effective, not simply in making converts but in influencing the culture as a whole and preparing the groundwork for evangelization, are those who are good at establishing long-lasting relationships with the people they have come to serve and making friends with them.

Although I am naturally biased, the most successful missionary I have known would have to be my late brother, Father Jerry, also a Jesuit missionary in Taiwan. As if his professional life as a Taiwan television actor and personality, producer of documentaries, and conductor of Catholic mass media workshops all across Asia had not made him famous enough, he seemed to make every person who knew him feel as if he was their best friend. And that includes me, his brother. That is why I would say that friendliness might be the best quality a missionary could have.

Speaking of my brother Jerry, his presence can be found throughout this diary book, as well as in its sequels. He was someone I looked up to and admired immensely. From my very first day in the novitiate until the day I arrived in Taiwan—and all the years since–he was my guiding light, the wisdom figure that understood and accepted me sometimes more than I did myself. In the Diary, my brother Jerry is always somewhere in the background, and no matter how busy he was, he would find time for an engrossing talk with his little brother.

Likewise, my mother and younger brother appear throughout the book, reinforcing the closeness and simplicity of my little family. It was in such a loving family that I received my first “formation” as a person, and this grounding in family life was perhaps the best preparation possible for becoming part of another family of people on the other side of the world. My Jesuit training only reinforced this formation.

CWR: What do you hope readers will take away from the book?

Fr. Martinson: I hope readers find the book fascinating, fun, and sometimes moving, and that it helps them to understand in general what Jesuit formation entails and in particular what one unique young Jesuit experienced during the transformative years of the 1960s. I’d like for them to get caught up in a beautiful world that they could never imagine but that is still true, perhaps in a slightly different form, even today–and that they are drawn closer to God and to each other through the stimulating passages in my diary.

Catholic World Report