ARRUPE: 35 YEARS WITHOUT THE GENERAL WHO TAUGHT US NOT TO WAIT WITH ARMS CROSSED
It has been 35 years since the death of Pedro Arrupe, SJ, but his warning still hits with the force of a hammer: “It appalls me that we can give answers from yesterday to the problems of tomorrow… We do not intend to defend our mistakes, but neither do we want to commit the greatest mistake of all: to wait with arms crossed.” Today, in a world of dizzying change, the Ignatian family remembers the “General” not as a figure of the past, but as the prophet of audacity who forces us to look forward.
The Man Who Lived Through the Bomb and Founded a Response
Arrupe’s biography is a succession of radical encounters with history. Trained as a doctor, his life took a turn in 1938 when he arrived in Japan as a missionary. There, war surprised him, he was briefly imprisoned, and then, on August 6, 1945, he became a witness and first responder to the atomic bomb in Hiroshima. Using the knowledge he had left behind, he turned the novitiate into a field hospital to care for hundreds of victims. That experience of chaos and compassion would be the crucible of his famous vision of a “faith that does justice.”
Elected Superior General in 1965, he led the Society of Jesus with a clear course toward the frontiers of injustice and exclusion. Moved by the drama of refugees, he founded the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) in 1980, today one of the most visible works of his legacy. His mandate ended with an unexpected blow: a cerebral thrombosis in 1981 left him paralyzed and silent for a decade, a final and painful lesson in surrender.
A Legacy That Inhabits Our Priorities
Arrupe’s relevance is not rhetorical; it materializes in the core axes of our own network. When WUJA identifies “Walking with the Excluded” as a priority in North America, or when associations in Africa and India deploy direct social impact projects, they are breathing the spirit of that man who prioritized merciful action over theoretical discussion.
His famous phrase about “not waiting with arms crossed” is a direct antidote to paralysis. In the context of our congresses and surveys, it is a call not to take refuge in outdated formulas. Are we offering outdated social networks for a digital generation? Are we repeating meeting models that don’t attract young people? Arrupe would tell us that the risk of innovating and making mistakes is always less than the sin of inaction out of fear.
The Companion for the Journey to Yogyakarta
Thirty-five years after his departure, commemorating Arrupe is much more than a memory exercise. It is reaffirming a style. As we prepare for the Congress in Yogyakarta, his figure challenges us: Will we be able to offer, as he did, new answers to new problems? Will we bet on agile structures, transparent governance, and real inclusion of young people, even if the path is uncertain?
His legacy, which today runs from JRS offices to the smallest alumni associations, is an inheritance of courage. He made it clear that in a world on fire—whether from bombs, injustices, or indifference—the worst option is, precisely, to stand by and watch. The best way to honor him is to follow his example: discerning with audacity and acting, unafraid of making mistakes, for a more just tomorrow.
