The Rules of Discernment: A Practical Guide – Rule 3

In the second rule, St. Ignatius introduced us to spiritual consolation, an experience that moves us toward God (whether our natural feelings coincide). In his third rule, St. Ignatius gives us a more specific definition for spiritual consolation: essentially, a list of experiences in which we might find ourselves drawn toward the Lord and spiritual freedom.

St. Ignatius’s Third Rule

“I call it consolation when some interior movement in the soul is caused, through which the soul comes to be inflamed with love of its Creator and Lord; and when it can in consequence love no created thing on the face of the earth in itself, but in the Creator of them all. 

Likewise, when it sheds tears that move to love of its Lord, whether out of sorrow for one’s sins, or for the Passion of Christ our Lord, or because of other things directly connected with His service and praise.

Finally, I call consolation every increase of hope, faith and charity, and all interior joy which calls and attracts to heavenly things and to the salvation of one’s soul, quieting it and giving it peace in its Creator and Lord” (source).

In brief, consolation is an interior movement of your heart and soul toward God. In consolation, you might experience an increase in hope, faith, or charity, as well as interior joy that makes you feel closer to God and fills you with peace. Your soul may be “inflamed with love” in consolation as you feel God’s presence more deeply or see His presence reflected in creation, be it the natural world or other people. In consolation, you may experience deep repentance for your sins which propels you toward God’s grace, or feel moved in a personally convicting way by Christ’s sacrifice or teachings.

Through these examples, we can discover that consolation runs far deeper than mere happiness. Many of us think that we are looking for consolation when we are actually seeking temporary relief or passing pleasure. Superficial happiness is a feeling that changes based on our circumstances and involves fleeting comforts that we must keep chasing. Spiritual consolation, on the other hand, moves us toward God’s deep and lasting peace—regardless of what life throws at us.

Recently, our family was going through a season of increased uncertainty. I talked to my husband during an especially hard day while he offered support. “What is it you need most?” he asked gently at one point. I thought for a while, then answered at length, “My immediate reaction is to say that I want security. But deep down I know what I actually need is peace.

I realized that my “ideal,” practical, and purposeful solutions would only offer an illusion of security—and only for a limited time. They couldn’t truly bring me long-term peace and consolation. Eventually, some other challenge would come along (as they always do in this world) to rattle my sense of superficial freedom and disrupt my security set on creature comforts. As I shared this with my husband, he took my hand and led us in prayer. We still asked for what we desired, but paired it with a sincere request for greater trust and peace in God’s greater plan.

Circumstantial Comfort vs. Surpassing Peace

Chasing material, emotional, or worldly consolation might initially get us what we want, but we will only be momentarily appeased. Seeking spiritual consolation allows us to be more joyful and at peace regardless of our circumstances. As scripture tells us, God’s peace surpasses our narrow human understanding and remains available to us in good times and bad (see Philippians 4:7).

We might liken this to two ships floating in a harbor: one securely anchored and the other, not. Both ships will be tossed about when a storm blows in, but the anchored ship will only shift a few yards as it remains secured to the harbor floor and supported by the calmer depths below. The unanchored ship, meanwhile, will drift wherever the storm takes it; unable to steer itself, this ship will be in danger of capsizing or worse yet, being thrashed upon rocks and destroyed. Its security is wholly dependent upon calm waters and ideal circumstances; it cannot last long in this state.

When we try to tether our will and happiness to the shifting seas of the world—usually in search of more enticing horizons—we find ourselves adrift and at the mercy every stormy circumstance life brings. Yet when we anchor our free will to the security of Our Lord, then His calm, peace-filled depths can prevail over the storms at the surface; we are kept safe in the harbor of God’s grace.

What does this grace and consolation look like day to day? Perhaps you’ve found yourself moved by a particular scripture verse, or a word in prayer stands out in a way it never has before. Maybe you’ve felt encouraged by a specific devotion or inspired to action after some spiritual reading. You might feel the sudden weight of your sin and have a real desire to be free from it in the sacrament of Confession, or feel moved by a connection with a certain Saint. Consolation may come through the grace of hindsight—looking back and recognizing God’s grace and mercy profoundly at work in your life, even if you weren’t aware of it in the moment. You may experience tears of consolation in prayer whether or not you’re an emotional person. These tears might feel joyful or contrite or cleansing, but whatever their prompting, they will move you closer to God rather than away from Him. In all these consolations, we see this movement toward God, increasing your awareness of His presence, His personal love, and His work in your soul.

Examples of Consolation

When I was a college freshman, I felt especially isolated, homesick, and overwhelmed. I was attending West Point, a demanding military academy where freshmen had few freedoms and were expected to perform countless duties for upper-class cadets in addition to balancing a heavy course load of engineering classes. At some point, I learned that there was Eucharistic Adoration every Wednesday at the same chapel where I had made my first communion as a girl. Each Wednesday, I would take a break from my homework and walk up the hill to the chapel at dusk to sit in the candlelight and incense with our Lord. I could actually feel the stress melting away as the Lord flooded my heart and soul with profound peace. Though my duties were still demanding, and my classes didn’t magically get easier, that hour of consolation each week became a true refuge that carried me through my freshman year and beyond.

Some years later as a busy mom with kids, we had planned to attend our parish Stations of the Cross as a family. I was tired after a long week and I didn’t really feel like going, but we went as planned and prayed along with the Way of the Cross by St. Alphonsus Ligouri. I had prayed this same reflection countless times before and would many times after, but that evening as I stood worn and weary, the words pierced my heart like never before. I found myself moved to tears over Christ’s passion, really understanding that He had willingly undergone this horrific suffering for love of me. It was one thing to hear this preached, but another thing entirely to personally experience the truth of God’s relentless love in my soul.

One final example: I was worrying about a situation recently over which I had no control. Moments later, I received a text from a friend who had gone through the same thing. She said that she was praying for me and asked me to keep her updated. I felt a torrent of gratitude and assurance that I was not alone; through her, I became aware of God’s presence and attentiveness in my difficulty.

In all these examples, we note the common thread of consolation, which helps to free us from sin and move us toward God’s love and peace. God’s consolation invites us to deeper joy in “favorable” circumstances and supernatural peace in more difficult circumstances. Consolation increases our confidence in God and helps us to rely more on His unfailing strength.

This understanding helps us to seek the narrower road of God’s spiritual consolation over the wide road of fleeting pleasure which leads to spiritual desolation—the definition of which we will explore together in St. Ignatius’ next rule of discernment.