The Thinning of the Veil

There is a belief among many that there exists places in the world where there is a thinning of the veil - the space between the natural and the spiritual world, or perhaps a liminal space that is set apart between the two. The" spiritual world" may mean different things to each of us. It could be thought of as the afterlife or heaven or just some other place that isn't "here." I have felt it on a few occasions. One of the most memorable was in Assisi, Italy but not in the basilica of either Francis or Clare, and not in the monastery. As I stood at the overlook outside the basilica and took in the vista of the valley below and the mountains in the distance, the words came to me, "This is holy ground." This is Holy Ground. I felt the thinness there, more like a thought brought to life, of this being a place that had somehow been sanctified and that all who walked this ground left with a grace that could be physically experienced as well as spiritually. I looked over at my companion to see if she felt it too. I was gifted with a slight smile and the two of us both somehow knowing this was a time to be still and enter into the space. I can go back to that vision of the Umbrian Valley in an instant and the accompanying feeling of being in the sacred.

On my recent Ignatian pilgrimage, I again felt the thinness of the veil in all the locales you would expect. As the biography of St. Ignatius of Loyola goes, Iñigo converted and dedicated his life to Jesus at the shrine to Mary in Montserrat and eventually wrote the Spiritual Exercises in Manresa. Each of these three locations, Loyola, Montserrat, and Manresa held incredible gifts for me as the veil lifted. In Loyola, I was fascinated being in the family home and gazing out the window where Ignatius contemplated the stars and the universe, sitting in the kitchen and wondering what was for dinner, and praying beneath the crucifix that he passed by without a moment's notice each day of his young life. But I more strongly felt the lifting of the veil as we walked into town and entered the Shrine of our Lady of Olatz where Ignatius regularly prayed to the Blessed Mother. The bucolic scene of the sloping hillsides covered by grazing sheep on one side of the four-lane street and vineyards on the other drew me in, experiencing the beauty that the Loyola community was a part of in the 1500s and suddenly I felt transported. I took photos so that I could forever remember the deep green of the inclines and relive the feeling of the nearness to God. The encounters in Montserrat and Manresa were similar but once again I didn't experience these holy ground moments inside the shrines, abbey, or basilicas. It was the natural world that called to me. The view of the mountains of Montserrat are of such incredible strength and beauty that your first thought can only be of the grandeur of God. The veil lifts and you listen for the call. It is no wonder that it was in this place, that Ignatius placed his sword at the feet of Mary and dedicated his life to her Son. As predictable as it is to say that I felt the presence of the Holy Spirit in the cave at Manresa, that is exactly what happened. Today the cave has no similarity in appearance to what it was when Ignatius frequented it, but nonetheless, I couldn't get enough of it. I was drawn to it each morning upon rising and at any spare moment I could carve out of our scheduled excursions. It was like a magnet pulling me back in to feel again and again the thinness of the veil. This, this is holy ground. It was for Ignatius 500 years ago and it always will be for any who enters into the space with an open mind and heart.

These places of thinness offer themselves to us as a place to think about the world and our place in it differently. We are given the invitation to come and pray, come and feel the presence of God, or just come and experience whatever it has to offer. The stories of these places feed our spirits and if only for a moment we put ourselves in the footsteps of Francis or Ignatius and consider a different way, a quieter way to be in the world.