During my graduate studies, there were a lot of classes I really enjoyed. Intellectually, I fell in love with many subjects, and the way the professors guided the material and how they interacted with and among us was fascinating to me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The groups reflected diversity, and it wasn’t until I was in teaching positions that I realized it could be a great challenge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It would be very easy to think and act assuming the group was the same, its members thought the same, responded the same, and had experienced the same things. And this hypothetical scenario would facilitate the instruction and presentation of the material.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In each class, we weren’t necessarily the same people, as everyone had their own study plan according to their concentration and personal study pace.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But there were a number of classes that, although I liked, began to worry me. These were the spirituality classes, in particular, those that touched on themes of mystical life and contemplation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Previously, my perception of a contemplative mystic was an image as familiar and romantic as the statues in churches. Images depicting saints from centuries past. Beautiful images that are supposed to inspire a life of faith, but which evoked something unattainable in me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Personally, that perception began to change thanks to one of the most impactful classes of my adult life, the Ignatian Spirituality and Discernment class.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That class, led by a great Professor , touched absolutely every area and dimension of my being, in my past, present, and future. And I’m not exaggerating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before this class, I had a way of thinking and living. Of seeing and filtering my reality. And the truth is, it was very comfortable, because I \u201cwas right\u201d with everything. Quite convenient for anyone\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As part of the class, we were required to write weekly essays. Thanks to the scholarships I earned during my studies, I made every effort to take advantage of the opportunity. And although English isn’t my first language, I did my best.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Once, a classmate shared with me what the professor had written in one of her essays. He wrote that she needed to go deeper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since this was at the beginning of the semester, we both scratched our heads wondering what he meant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After a few classes, my classmate asked the professor, and she knew what to do then.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Fast forward to the end of the semester. All of us in attendance underwent a deep and profound internal transformation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And in my case, I could see it in a dramatic way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn’t just about stopping thinking and living a certain way, but about how I thought and lived. It went from being about what I saw and filtered to how I saw everything, including what I filtered before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What had happened to me? What had happened to all of us during the course?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A simple and personal way to describe what happened to all of us was that we allowed ourselves to be loved by God through the experience of Ignatian spirituality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a short phrase, we allowed ourselves to be loved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And you, do you allow yourself to receive God’s love?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The unconditional love we allowed ourselves to receive was only the beginning, as the scope of this experience surpassed our own understanding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Later, I learned that what we experienced can be identified as living contemplation in action. That is the Ignatian way of expressing it, but many other saints have their own way of articulating it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
My prayers were often asking God to take care of me or to prevent something bad from happening to me. And while that is valid, that doesn’t mean that when unpleasant things happen, “God doesn’t hear” or “wants to respond.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
God was no longer the deity “living in heaven.” I was loved, and that was God on earth. And He continues to be God on earth, in our human experience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It wasn’t that God didn’t love me anymore; it was that I gave myself permission to be loved at every moment, place, and time in my life. And giving myself permission to live this way was what changed my perspective, allowing me to see life differently, without wanting to turn a blind eye, without denying reality, without pretending that painful things weren’t happening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Knowing that I was loved gave me a way of seeing, knowing that I am never alone, but always accompanied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
How do you perceive God in your life? How distant or close do you perceive Him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Scripture reminds us that God has a new dwelling place within human beings, that God makes everything new. When God lives with us, we are always accompanied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Could this new dwelling place be our hearts open to receiving unconditional love?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By then, when I took this class I had already had years of pastoral work, experiences in different forms of evangelization, and I was supporting people in different ministerial areas. Still, it wasn’t until then, in this context of being accompanied by someone who was firmly and lovingly trained, that I was able to take a long, loving look at my reality, however painful it may have been.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In the history and current circumstances of your life, do you feel loved? Do you know you are loved?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What would it take for you to give yourself permission to know that you are loved?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Those images of saints, who at one time were merely beautiful, distant, and romantic, seem to have stepped down from their pedestals. These saints have shared with me through their writings how they have allowed themselves to be loved by God, rooting themselves in their daily lives, giving God a new dwelling place. It was no longer about what they saw, but how they saw what they saw: with love.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
If the Spirit leads you, share with Jesus the Carpenter if you would like to feel and know that you are loved. And perhaps, you can see that dwelling place where God lives with you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Marisol<\/p>\n\n\n\n
P.S. We can hear about God’s new dwelling place in the readings for the Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year\/Cycle C.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
During my graduate studies, there were a lot of classes I really enjoyed. Intellectually, I fell in love with many subjects, and the way the professors guided the material and how they interacted with and among us was fascinating to me. The groups reflected diversity, and it wasn’t until I was in teaching positions that […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":9365,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[18],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9362","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-general-2-2"],"yoast_head":"\n