Consolation and Community

A newly minted alumna reflects on what she learned about faith, belonging, and herself through ESCAPE.

By Ruby Gilmore (SFS’26)

On the bus ride back from Senior Retreat last month, a fellow ESCAPE leader and I—in Ignatian fashion—reflected on our experiences with Campus Ministry at Georgetown. I learned that her experience mirrored mine in many ways: despite neither of us being Catholic, at Georgetown we reconnected with our faiths in unexpected ways. It was something that we—in ESCAPE fashion—could talk about forever.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and growing up, my congregation in Harlem, New York City, was practically an extension of my family, a vibrant community of people who had known me my entire life. In comparison, when I started my first year at Georgetown, I began attending a congregation composed primarily of transient, young D.C. professionals. While I joined The Latter-Day Saint Student Association (LDSSA) at Georgetown in my first week—a group of about seven students who Uber to church together every Sunday—my newfound anonymity at church made it easy for my absence to go unnoticed. I quickly began to prioritize my ever-growing list of on-campus communities and commitments over my off-campus faith ones, and before I knew it, my faith was firmly on the back burner.

Now, I wish I could write that my reconnection with faith happened in a perfectly sequential order: that I went on ESCAPE as a first-year, was exposed to Ignatian spirituality, and had a “Eureka!” moment at the CCC. The fact of the matter is that even after attending ESCAPE as a first-year, serving as a leader for the program during my sophomore year, and working as the ESCAPE Student Musician during my senior year, I still sometimes felt disconnected from the faith that had long been the cornerstone of my identity. I have faced trials that made me question my faith, and I have grappled with questions that in themselves were trials. Nevertheless, each time I attended an ESCAPE retreat, I found what I needed most: time to play my guitar, a space to reflect, and an unmistakable feeling of peace that I have always associated with feeling connected to God. But perhaps most important to my reconnection with my faith was that, on retreat, I found people who inspired me. 

In my time with ESCAPE, I was privileged to hear the reflections of new Hoyas, fellow leaders, and faculty members representing a wide range of faith traditions and life experiences, all connecting to the principles of Ignatian Spirituality. No two reflections shared were ever the same, and even the vocabulary used to define certain Ignatian concepts differed. For example, some called “consolation” a feeling of connection to God. For others, it was a connection to the Divine, the One, something bigger than themselves, or their inner selves. Yet, as I listened to students and faculty alike share their struggles and journeys, I realized that these different perspectives were neither competing nor disparate. Rather, they all revealed the same thing: I was surrounded by people who wanted to do good and be good. And we all used moments of consolation as our compass, seeking that feeling of peace, that quiet click-into-place in our hearts when something was right. 

Hearing how others navigated the discernment process—finding what brought them fulfillment and peace—became an invitation to reflect on what felt right for me. As I reflected, I recognized that I felt fulfilled while serving on ESCAPE, whether during heartfelt conversations under the stars or while singing “loud and proud” during rounds of songs. I felt fulfilled when I thought about continuing to find opportunities to serve in my future career, seeking to be a Hoya for others. And, eventually, I recognized—and I couldn’t deny the feeling—that I found fulfillment and peace when I authentically lived my faith. 

In hindsight, this really shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me given that the values I was using to guide my life—service, charity, and compassion—were core values of my faith tradition. But ESCAPE also taught me that no one’s path is linear. For me, it took listening to the talks of faculty who had dedicated themselves to their faiths to force me to acknowledge how much I’d be neglecting mine. It took hearing the story of Saint Ignatius no less than a dozen times to internalize the principle of “Contemplation in Action” and realize that I wanted my faith (or lack thereof) to be a choice, not an accident. It took time to change priorities, and it took time to connect with my church community in D.C. But then, in early May, I found myself on the bus back from Senior Retreat, discussing with a fellow ESCAPE leader how the principles of Ignatian Spirituality we learned on retreat helped us reconnect and recommit to our faiths. We talked the entire bus ride back. 

Now, as a newly minted Georgetown alumna, I am grateful for these experiences—the desolation and consolation alike. I see now that I needed both to learn and I needed both to change. And above all, I’m grateful because I know that I’ll have these experiences to reflect on, remember, and talk about forever.