The Saints give us an example of how to be holy. St. Bonaventure offers us a gentle reordering of how we “come to know.” Instead of grasping for certainty, he invites us to place ourselves where learning can happen, where something larger, truer, and more mysterious might meet us. This is opening space for the sacred that is already there.
Knowing, in this sense, is not possession. It is participation. It is stepping into activity that may feel dark or veiled or unfinished, trusting that God is already present within the obscurity.
Before the crucifix, we learn this posture.
It becomes a mirror for our lives. We come with our questions, our hesitations, our honest selves. And somehow, in that vulnerable space, knowing becomes less about mastery and more about wonder rising from the heart.
Anything good, true, or beautiful can draw our gaze and invite a kind of sacred reading. A sunrise, a piece of music, a line of poetry, a moment of tenderness can become a text through which God speaks. When we linger with these gifts, wonder awakens. Gratitude stirs. A sense of deep connectivity begins to form within our consciousness.
This is learning as encounter, as trust, as the slow opening of the heart to the God who is always revealing, always inviting, always near.
Smitten With Goodness 