‘Life-changing’, ‘incredible’ and ‘amazing’ were among the high praise I had heard others use to describe their experiences of Magis in Australia. Surrounded by such acclaim, I was deeply curious about the Jesuit pastoral preparation for World Youth Day. It was frustrating that no-one seemed able to distil the reasons for their enthusiasm into a few pithy sentences. Apparently, Magis was something that could not be described; it had to be experienced. Keen to discover it for myself, I signed up for Madrid 2011.

Some parts of Magis can be described: the experience itself was divided into two stages. The first was the gathering weekend, where 3,000 pilgrims arrived in Loyola for a 3-day Jesuit festival. It looked a little like a Catholic ‘Glastonbury’, in 30-degree sunshine. We were fed; we were clothed (with bespoke hoodies, t-shirts and caps produced by Zara). We played, and we prayed. Music festivals ran until late into the night. We slept together in classrooms, or, in the case of some 100+ girls, side-by-side in the school gym (the biggest slumber party I have ever attended). On the final day, Jesuit Superior Adolfo Nicolas celebrated Mass for us. It ended with The Killers’ song, ‘Human’, to which the pilgrims enthusiastically partook in a specifically choreographed Magis dance, which we had learned over the previous days. It was enormous fun. The weekend encapsulated the triad of belonging, behaving and believing that one member of our group used to sum up religious experience.

The second stage was the apostolic experience. There were 99 experiences, divided into 6 categories – Social Service, Arts and Performance, Spirituality, Faith/Culture, Ecology and Pilgrimage. We listed the categories in order of preference before arriving and knew precious little about the experience, except the title, which we received in the weeks beforehand. Having prioritised spirituality, I was delighted to learn that my experience would be that of Interreligious Dialogue.

This took place in Manresa, on the site where St Ignatius had lived as a hermit. His experience during this time formed the basis of his spiritual exercises. The rather more comfortable Jesuit spirituality centre has since been built around the cave where he lived. This was our home for the week. Six members of the UK group, and 20 other Magis pilgrims from Romania, Syria, Belarus and Lebanon spent the week meditating on how to relate spiritually to those following other religions. Despite language barriers, together we considered the Aboriginal Traditions, Jainism, Taoism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism, Islam and other denominations of Christianity. We concentrated on the essence of each religion, and explored this using the music, symbols and texts of the relevant faith. At first, I found it difficult to use the writings of other cultures in my own (Catholic) prayer. There seemed to be a fine balance between finding God in all things, including, for example, the Torah, and being so inclusive that one felt open to a conversion to Judaism. Gradually, I discerned that the opposite occurs. It is by being open to finding God in all things that ones own faith grows. By detaching ourselves from the vehicles through which God reveals himself, God becomes easier to find.

It was while we were in Manresa that the London riots occurred. Following our experience of fellowship in Loyola and Manresa, which we would discover again in Madrid, I wondered how so many young people could gather together, so joyfully and with such love for each other in Spain, and another group of a similar age, could behave so differently in England. While I don’t have an answer, I was struck by the sense of identity and belonging that was offered by the Magis experience. Being in Loyola and Manresa rooted us in our faith. This was a physical experience, as these sites are important to those who follow Ignatian Spirituality; it was also a psychological one, as it was profoundly grounding to be surrounded by so many young Catholics. We share the same beliefs, and the same behaviour. Despite linguistic, social and cultural differences, we belonged together. In addition, it was clear that a huge amount of work had been involved in hosting us, and in the planning and staging of the events. Everyone from the Jesuits, to the volunteers and not least by our own team at based at Farm Street had worked tirelessly to ensure that everything ran smoothly. We felt valued as young people, and it was clear that we were special. How many of the rioters could say that they also experienced a sense of having a valued place in the eyes of society and/or God?

Our days in Manresa were highly structured. They began with a form of Tai Chi at 8am (though a few of us keen beans went early-morning running from 6.30am), and were punctuated by prayer, ‘magis circles’ (in which we shared our reflections with others, in style similar to a CLC meeting where one listens without comment to what is being said) and daily Mass until the final examen at 11.30pm. Although not part of the schedule, many of us took the next hour or so to bond with our room-mates. I already miss praying frequently with others and am beginning to wonder if bedtime prayer via Skype might be feasible. Another significant aspect of our stay in Manresa was vegetarianism. Father Xavier, the priest leading the experience, extolled the virtues of a meat-free diet in relation to prayer, and I did notice a difference in terms of feeling spiritually lighter. A number of us have tried to remain pescatarian since returning home. Whether or not this is a long-term change, it has increased my awareness of the level of animal products in my diet, and has prompted me to seek out more information on the impact of over-consumption of meat on the environment.

Having returned from what was probably the most transformative fortnight of my life, I now understand why the effect of Magis – the part everyone had raved about and the reason for going – is difficult to describe. At its heart, it is an intensely, intimately personal experience of God. As such, such an experience is only ever going to be your own. In his book ‘Why Go To Church?’, Timothy Radcliff explains that the reason for going to Mass is to be sent from it. In the same sense, the reason for going to Magis is to equip you with the tools to be magis (‘better’/'greater’/'more’) for God. Ironically, it is the journey you make post-Magis that is the pilgrimage. It is impossible for me to impart the enormity of what this may mean for you – you will have to go to Rio in 2013 to discover it yourself.