Today we celebrate the Memorial of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, a man whose life became a dwelling place for God’s glory—but only after it was completely rebuilt by grace.
Born in 1491, Ignatius was not always the fiery spiritual master we know today. In his youth, he was a soldier, a courtier, a man of ambition, pride, and vanity. He longed for honour and glory—not for God. His heart was set not on the courts of the Lord, but on the courts of kings.
But God had other plans. In 1521, during the battle of Pamplona, Ignatius was struck by a cannonball that shattered his leg—and with it, his worldly dreams. During a long and painful recovery, he asked for something to read, hoping for tales of knights and romance. All that was available were books about Christ and the lives of the saints. Reluctantly, he read them.
Something unexpected happened. As he read about St. Francis, St. Dominic, and others, his heart began to stir. At first he admired their courage and heroism. But soon he realised that what truly moved him—what gave lasting joy—was not praise or human glory, but the love of God. He began to notice a difference between passing excitement and true spiritual consolation. This was the seed of his conversion.
Our first reading from Exodus 40 tells how Moses, following every detail of the Lord’s command, constructed the Tent of Meeting. When it was finished, the cloud of the Lord covered it, and His glory filled it. Ignatius went through a similar rebuilding—but within. His soul, once disordered and self-centred, was reconstructed piece by piece until it could become a dwelling place for God. When at last he surrendered to grace and aligned his will with God’s, the Lord’s glory filled his life, and through him, countless others were guided toward Christ.
From that point on, Ignatius began to live with precision in his faith—doing, like Moses, exactly as the Lord commanded. His Spiritual Exercises became a school for the soul, showing others how to discern, to choose rightly, and to follow God’s will.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus says the Kingdom of heaven is like a net cast into the sea, catching fish of every kind. In the end, the good are kept, the bad are thrown away. Ignatius learned to “sort the catch” in his own heart, keeping desires that led him toward God and rejecting those that pulled him away. His love of discipline, courage, and noble striving was not lost—it was purified. And new gifts—humility, surrender, zeal for souls—began to flourish.
His life reminds us that conversion is possible for anyone. God can rebuild the most broken soul, one stone at a time, with patience and care. What we allow to dwell in our hearts—ambition or humility, vanity or grace—will shape what we become. And like Ignatius, we too must learn to let God reveal what is worth keeping, and what must be cast aside.
Ignatius left us a prayer that reflects today’s psalm:
“Take, Lord, receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will.
All I have and call my own.
You have given all to me; to you, Lord, I return it.
Everything is yours; do with it what you will.
Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me.”
May we have the courage to pray these words today.
May we let God rebuild the dwelling place of our hearts.
And may His glory fill our lives.
Amen.
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