By Roger Carr-Jones, Marriage and Family Life Coordinator
Marriage and conversion sit naturally together because both are lifelong journeys of turning toward God and one another in love. Neither begins nor ends in a single moment. The initial spark of faith or of romance must then be tended through the ordinary, graceâfilled movements of daily living. Marriage becomes, in this sense, an ongoing school of love. Love is demonstrated through actions not sentiments. For me, Ignatian spirituality deepens this understanding.
Ignatius learned early that conversion is not a dramatic instant but a continual reâorientation of the heart toward Christ. When couples live their vocation through an Ignatian lens, marriage becomes not simply a relationship but a shared pilgrimage of love and ongoing conversion. The Spiritual Exercises offer a way of seeing and choosing that fits the married vocation. Love is not an escape from the world but a training in how to find God within it.
Ignatius’ own spiritual journey, from soldier to pilgrim, was marked by missteps, uncertainty, and the slow reshaping of his desires. His great insight, that God is found “in all things,” means that grace is discovered not only in church or on retreat but in the everyday encounters, tensions, joys, and relationships that form the texture of life.
Marriage, for me, is one of the primary places where this becomes very real. That daily rhythm of listening, forgiving, adjusting, and beginning again becomes a school of conversion. As a couple we grow through the “little conversion moments” that soften the heart, heal the wounds and deepen trust, rather than through grand gestures. Ignatius also shows that God works most deeply in the places we would rather avoid.
Marriage, like conversion, resembles the snakesâandâladders game. It is often unpredictable, with moments that lift us and moments that pull us down. Disagreements do not mean that we have lost the path. No! The “snakes” of misunderstanding, disappointment, fear, or selfâreliance, though, are not detours but invitations. They strip back illusions and open space in our relationship for grace. The “ladders” are most often the small, surprising moments of tenderness, clarity, or renewed purpose.
The Emmaus story captures this dynamic beautifully. Conversion begins when a couple can say, “This is where we really are,” and discover that they are held. Christ walks with them, helping them reâread their shared story in the light of faith, and the Eucharist renews their mission to love. Conversion is never private enlightenment; it is always a call to deeper communion and service.
Whether we feel clarity or confusion, the risen Christ meets us on the road, in the ordinary, and in the fragile places where love is tested and renewed. Easter invites couples to ask: What new life is God offering us now?
