In reflecting on what this Ignatian Year means to me, I’ve been thinking about how St. Ignatius’ conversion relates to my own life. Ignatius was hit in the leg with a cannonball, which led to a long recovery and eventually his conversion to desire a life devoted to God and to serving others. I can think back to a few of my own “cannonball moments” that have disrupted my life, changed my perspective, and transformed my faith, but these moments all feel so long ago. How can the story of St. Ignatius’ conversion continue to inspire my life today? 

As I was reflecting on this question, I attended the Ignatian Family Teach-In for Justice in Washington, D.C. earlier this month. At the conference, I witnessed talks by some amazing people working for justice, and I was inspired by the many young people who traveled from all over the country to engage in a weekend of justice conversations and activism. 

I was particularly struck by a presentation on Racial Conversion and Reconciliation given by Fr. Bryan Massingale. In this talk, Fr. Massingale spoke about the path toward racial conversion and reconciliation through the transformative process of metanoia. This Christian concept is more than simply a change of habits; it is a kind of transformation into a new way of being. It is a dying of our previous, false self, and a rising of a new and more authentic and loving way of being that is radically different from who we were before. This idea of metanoia reminded me that conversion isn’t a one-time thing. Conversion is a life-long journey for all Christians,re-orienting and course-correcting our lives toward that which better contributes to a more loving and peaceful world, co-creating the kingdom of God here on earth. “Cannonballs” don’t have to be massively disruptive, life-altering events. They can be found in the daily encounters that challenge us to continuously transform and commit to our own, and to each other’s, ongoing conversion. 

One way that I am committing myself to ongoing conversion this year is by paying special attention to the Society of Jesus’ Universal Apostolic Preferences for this decade, especially the priority for walking with the poor and excluded of the world in a mission of reconciliation and justice. I remind myself that walking with the poor, and living in solidarity, is much easier said than done. Really practicing solidarity requires true, ongoing conversion. It requires stepping into the pain and suffering of another person and not running away from it, or rushing to solve the problem, but sitting with the pain and allowing it to transform you and your way of seeing and being in the world. This is how I understand solidarity, and this is one way that I am committing to my own ongoing conversion this year – by challenging myself to sit a little bit longer in the pain of others, and allowing myself to be transformed by it.