As a big fan of Eric Clayton’s writing, I purchased My Life with the Jedi as soon as it came out. Having not spent MY life with the Jedi, however, I decided that, before reading the book, I had to watch all nine films—in plot order. Now that I’m finished Clayton’s book, I understand that my thinking a mere nine movies prepared me to understand the Star Wars franchise was like my religiously illiterate cousin taking a college course on C.S. Lewis because she’d loved the kids in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. (We just don’t know what we don’t know!)
My five-star rating, then, is not because Clayton helped me grasp the nuances and complexities of all things Star Wars. As he began referencing novels, TV series, animated features, and other things I’d never heard of, I swiftly abandoned my refrain of “Wait . . . what . . . who?!?” and listened instead for the timeless wisdom surfacing among the unfamiliar names.
Clayton is a member of the communications team of the Jesuits of Canada and the US who has studied international politics and explored eastern religions; he’s practiced at spotting the truth of our human condition wherever it appears. So he knows that, despite the iconic opening of Episode IV: A New Hope, the essential dynamics revealed by Star Wars cannot be relegated to what happened “a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.”
In My Life with the Jedi, Clayton starts with the vast tapestry of a sci-fi world about which he’s geeked out for his whole life. Then patiently, creatively, he points to threads from that tapestry to illustrate key spiritual movements in our own lives, articulating those movements in the rich vocabulary of Ignatian spirituality. Clayton’s fluency in both “languages”—and his ability to interpret them for people less familiar with one or the other—is what makes this ambitious undertaking work.
Bottom line: if you are curious about Ignatian spirituality but just not a Star Wars person, there are better books to enlighten you about the Jesuit saint—like Clayton’s own Cannonball Moments: Telling Your Story, Deepening Your Faith. But if you are a devotee of all things Ignatian and have an openness to Star Wars, you will find plenty to underline and revisit here, including the “Wayfinder Exercises” at the end of each chapter, which invite you to pause and meditate on your own journey. And if, like Clayton, you’ve spent decades watching and reading every Star Wars thing you could get your hands on . . . if you’ve stood in long lines at the attractions in Disneyworld/land . . . if you still know the location of all your Star Wars Lego sets . . . and if you’re hungry for an articulation of why this thing you’ve always loved matters more than your “cool” friends ever suspected, you owe it to yourself to read My Life with the Jedi.