“Is there any people who have heard the voice of God speaking out of the fire, as you have, and lived?” (Deuteronomy 4:33, NIV). This ancient question encapsulates the profound mystery of divine encounter—an encounter that does not consume but transforms. The eternal Word, divine fire uncreated, assumed human nature without annihilating it. The hypostatic union, the profound unity of divine nature and human nature in Christ, preserved the integrity of the human soul, body, and spirit despite the intensity of divine uncreated fire. As Saint Augustine famously reflected, the union of soul and body itself is a mystery—if we are so mysterious to ourselves, how much more the union of God with humanity (cf. Augustine, Confessions).

In Matthew’s Gospel, when Christ opens His mouth to teach the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:1-2), one might imagine this moment as “speaking from the midst of fire”—the fire of divine presence and transformative power. The contemporaries of Jesus were privileged to hear this divine voice without fear or destruction. God, in His mercy, adapts Himself to human frailty, controlling His infinite power so as not to harm but to draw close and communicate through the Spirit even after His Ascension (cf. John 16:13).

At the beginning of the spiritual journey, at the Second Conversion, the human ego is intertwined with numerous self-justifications and attachments, creating a conglomerate that we mistake for our true self. Initially, God’s approach to the soul is one of pedagogy and accommodation—a ‘wrapping’ or ‘envelopment,’ as John Henry Newman described it—tempered by mercy and suited to our limited capacity.

However, after a first purification—the purification of the sense and reaching the “Union of Will” (Teresa of Avila, Interior Castle, Fifth Mansions) – those who remain faithful and diligent in following Christ enter a new phase. At this stage, God begins to reveal Himself more fully, “opening the floodgates of His being.” This profound unveiling occurs most dramatically in the Passion, where the wounds of Christ become the means by which God penetrates deeply into the human soul. Thus, the gentle appearances of divine mercy at the beginning of the spiritual journey are necessary accommodations, but ultimately, a moment comes when the soul must meet God as He truly is, beyond all adaptation.

Following the second conversion—a decisive turning towards God—a new life unfolds characterised by increasingly supernatural modes of prayer. The development can be outlined in stages. Initially, the practice of Lectio Divina predominates, focusing on attentive listening to Jesus through the Scripture. At this stage, the Prayer of the Heart, understood as a more receptive, contemplative prayer, is not yet prominent.

Subsequently, a desire for something deeper and more passive arises, giving birth to the practice of the Prayer of the heart. This is followed by a balanced stage, where Lectio and Prayer of the Heart coexist in a disciplined, ongoing spiritual rhythm. Eventually, the content of Lectio diminishes in “external quantity” but increases in deeper quality—a single word or phrase can guide the soul, indicating a deeper purification. Simultaneously, Prayer of the Heart becomes intensely challenging, sometimes described as ‘infernal’ due to the profound inner purification it demands. It is at this juncture that the intervention of the Virgin Mary is traditionally considered essential, as she aids the soul through this great trial, transforming human actions into divine.

The journey of the people of Israel from Egypt to the Promised Land offers a powerful analogy for the spiritual journey initiated by the second conversion. Leaving Egypt signifies liberation from the slavery of the senses—our initial spiritual awakening or second conversion. However, this liberation is only the beginning.

The subsequent crossing of the desert, the 38 years of wandering, and finally the passage of the Jordan River to confront the giants represent deeper stages of purification and courage. The desert wanderings symbolise the soul’s need for radical purification—a cleansing of the old self. The biblical example of the paralytic in John 5:5, who waits 38 years by the pool before healing, echoes this long, patient process.

Entering the Promised Land is another dimension of this journey. It represents not only liberation but participation in God’s presence, as the Temple becomes the dwelling place of God among His people. Spiritually, this is the progression from the initial awakening to full union with God.

This pedagogy demonstrates that God desires to give Himself fully to us but must respect our capacity to receive Him. The soul’s capacity to receive God is not static but must be expanded and purified. This enlargement of capacity—sometimes called purification—is not merely a stripping away of defects but a transformation that allows the soul to correspond to God’s being and operations.

The effort to cultivate charity within us, to grow in grace, increases this capacity. Here, Lectio Divina plays a critical role as it confronts us with our reality under the light of God’s truth, accelerating the process of transformation and enlargement.

Such growth demands tremendous courage. Saint Teresa of Avila emphasised repeatedly the necessity of determined courage to confront God as He truly is, not merely as a gentle friend. Facing the passion of Christ and the dark night of the soul requires confronting fear—the fear of losing control, the fear of dying to the old self, the fear of radical truth about oneself and God.

Saint Thérèse of Lisieux echoed this by expressing her love for truth above all, rejecting all false appearances, and embracing the truth found in Christ, who is Truth itself. This profound truth requires adapting ourselves to God, who does not ultimately adapt to our weakness.

What, then, is the second conversion? It is first and foremost a personal encounter with Christ—an intervention of God within the timeline of our personal history. It marks the beginning of a spiritual providence where God takes charge of our life’s journey. Conversion implies a turning, an orientation towards a new direction: God, who was once distant and transcendent, becomes Emmanuel, “God with us,” present and active in our lives.

This is no abstract or distant God, but a friend who walks alongside us (cf. John 15:15). However, we must guard against mistaking the adapted God who meets us in our weakness for the full reality of God as He is in Himself. The goal is union with God as He truly is, beyond all human accommodation.

In this new life inaugurated by the second conversion, Lectio Divina becomes the primary mode of encountering the divine presence that has entered our life. This encounter is not initiated by us but by God Himself who comes searching for us (cf. Luke 19:10). It is God’s initiative, His grace, that leads us on the journey of transformation.

The second conversion is the doorway to a spiritual journey that unfolds gradually and in stages, each demanding courage, purification, and openness. God’s initial adaptation to human weakness is a pedagogical gift, but ultimately, the soul must be prepared to meet God in His full, unmediated reality.

The spiritual life is thus a progressive expansion of our capacity to receive God, culminating in the transformation of our entire being into a dwelling place for the Divine. This journey from the adapted God to God in His fullness requires steadfast fidelity, courage, and trust in the grace that God continually offers.


References

  • The Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV), Deuteronomy 4:33; Matthew 5:1-2; John 5:5; Luke 19:10.
  • Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, Book XIII.
  • John Henry Newman, Parochial and Plain Sermons, sermon on ‘Envelopment.’
  • Saint Teresa of Avila, The Interior Castle.
  • Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, Story of a Soul.
  • Louis Bouyer, The Spiritual Life: A Treatise on the Christian Life in the Form of a Spiritual Anthology (London: Darton, Longman & Todd, 1954).