The Church of St Francis Xavier in Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, hosted a series of art-inspired spiritual experiences from 27 to 29 June. Jesuit brother and artist Howard Tu SJ of the Chinese Province led participants into talks and workshops where faith and imagination met, reminding all that art is not separate from spirituality but a living expression of it.

The weekend began with a reflective talk exploring the relationship between art and Ignatian spirituality. In “Finding God in Arts,” Br Howard, who has a Master’s degree in Ministry and Spirituality from Regis College in Toronto, shared how artistic expression—whether through painting, sculpting, knitting, crocheting, or even music—can awaken the senses and draw the soul closer to God. It wasn’t just a talk but a lived moment of grace where participants felt encouraged to see art as prayer, presence, and spiritual insight.

The following day, participants engaged in a mask-making workshop, in which they created masks—not to hide, but to reflect. As they moulded their masks, they entered into a process of self-discovery, prayer, and healing.

A meaningful part of the workshop was making a mask of another person, inviting reflection on the dignity and beauty of others as God’s creation. One of the participants remarked, “It made me realise the beauty of the other person and how God so carefully created them—from the smallest to the biggest feature.”

Another participant, Mildred Lopez, found the workshop to be a profoundly spiritual experience. “As Br Howard mentioned, no matter what mask we wear for our survival, God sees us through the holes of the eyes in the mask. Our real self is on the inside of the mask.”

Br Howard Tu SJ demonstrates how to make a mask

For Mildred, the workshop was also an experience of learning to let go. “Submitting to the person who is moulding the mask on me was an uncomfortable, messy process with all kinds of feelings. It was hard to imagine any good coming out of it,” she bared.

However, like many of the participants, Mildred recognised in this creative process the tender hand of God. “It was a humbling experience to know that God created me for His purpose, and for that I am complete,” she said.

In the evening, Br Howard shared his vocation story, reflecting on his 25th year as a Jesuit brother. His sharing was marked by authenticity and quiet depth, showing how art, service, and Ignatian spirituality had shaped his journey. Rather than dramatic conversion moments, he spoke of how God moved through daily life, small obediences, and acts of love—which, in time, revealed unexpected blessings. His story was an invitation to live faithfully in the present and to trust that God is always working in and through us—often in the simplest of ways.

“Through Br Howard’s sharing, I saw God’s blessings. And in my own life, looking back, I realised that many things I did out of obedience turned out to be blessings,” said Leona Kiu.

The final creative workshop invited participants to mould clay, reflecting on how we are each formed by God with purpose and love. As they pinched, shaped, and smoothed the clay, participants meditated on their identity as God’s creation and envisioned the person they are being lovingly called to become. Br Howard’s guidance was grounded, poetic, and spiritually rich. The clay became a symbol of our lives—soft, imperfect, and being shaped into something beautiful by the Divine Potter.

“It was a fun and engaging session with great, practical insights from Brother Howard based on his life experiences,” shared Christine Chu. “The workshop was a good reflection and sharing moment too,” she added.

Throughout the weekend, participants encountered God in the brushstroke, the pause, the silence, and the shaping of clay. Br Howard’s sessions created sacred spaces where art became a doorway to grace. Participants left Loyola Hall not only carrying with them the crafts they made but also a deeper awareness that God is present in all things—in colour, texture, vulnerability, in the stillness, and perhaps, most importantly, in the quiet unfolding of our own stories.