Cantabo Domino in vita mea. Alacritate et magnanimitate Eum sequar. I shall sing to the Lord in my life. I shall follow Him eagerly and generously.
Showing posts with label true life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label true life. Show all posts
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Memorized Formulas vs. Lived Truth
Blessed are those simple souls, for whom this fundamental truth [of Faith] is not merely a formula committed to memory but a truth of life. Blessed are those who experience true sorrow for their sins.
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Source: Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 2, trans. by Jeanne Marie (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1951), 354.
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Source: Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus, vol. 2, trans. by Jeanne Marie (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1951), 354.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Circumstance as sign and opportunity
We often view circumstances in a fatalistic way. Circumstances "happen." The famous bumper sticker comes to mind. Circumstances are interpreted as beyond our control, or otherwise they are placed in an evaluative framework of what is in our control and not.
Maybe it is not so. Maybe circumstances are very deliberate processes, deliberate but not deterministic. Maybe circumstances are the expressions of conscious processes, meeting, connecting, bouncing off of and bumping into each other.
If we take it as true that all things are governed by God's Providence, then a thread of intelligibility, of love, of wisdom, runs through all things. All things have a conscious direction even if asymmetrical. Perhaps intelligibility doesn't equate with symmetry and balance, but perhaps reality as intelligible is intelligible precisely as a mixture of symmetry and asymmetry, of order and chaos, of articulate and ineffable.
Maybe, then, circumstances even those circumstances that are not apparently caused by human consciousness are nevertheless not things we can try to control or fall under the control of but rather the sort of possible encounter that reality proposes to us here and now.
I am sick. In the common view of circumstance, my sickness is not under my control, but I do everything I can to alleviate it. I complain of its grasp on my life, my livelihood. Perhaps sickness is something else; perhaps it is a link in a chain of possibility, connection both to God, to myself, to others, to the underlying intelligibility of the universe, an opportunity for transcending myself here and now.
I am late. Therefore I try to speed to work. Maybe there is something else going on here; maybe the circumstance is a symptom, a sign.
If circumstances are signs instead of chance events, then I can dialogue with circumstance and draw it up into a greater conversation, the conversation of my life.
Maybe it is not so. Maybe circumstances are very deliberate processes, deliberate but not deterministic. Maybe circumstances are the expressions of conscious processes, meeting, connecting, bouncing off of and bumping into each other.
If we take it as true that all things are governed by God's Providence, then a thread of intelligibility, of love, of wisdom, runs through all things. All things have a conscious direction even if asymmetrical. Perhaps intelligibility doesn't equate with symmetry and balance, but perhaps reality as intelligible is intelligible precisely as a mixture of symmetry and asymmetry, of order and chaos, of articulate and ineffable.
Maybe, then, circumstances even those circumstances that are not apparently caused by human consciousness are nevertheless not things we can try to control or fall under the control of but rather the sort of possible encounter that reality proposes to us here and now.
I am sick. In the common view of circumstance, my sickness is not under my control, but I do everything I can to alleviate it. I complain of its grasp on my life, my livelihood. Perhaps sickness is something else; perhaps it is a link in a chain of possibility, connection both to God, to myself, to others, to the underlying intelligibility of the universe, an opportunity for transcending myself here and now.
I am late. Therefore I try to speed to work. Maybe there is something else going on here; maybe the circumstance is a symptom, a sign.
If circumstances are signs instead of chance events, then I can dialogue with circumstance and draw it up into a greater conversation, the conversation of my life.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
St. Thomas Aquinas on Rationalizing Sexual Hedonsim
For know you this and understand: that no fornicator or unclean or covetous person, which is a serving of idols, hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no man deceive you with vain words. For because of these things cometh the anger of God upon the children of despair. Be ye not therefore partakers with them. (Eph. 5:5–7)The Apostle above forbade carnal sins (5:3); here he threatens them with the penalty of damnation that is inflicted on sinners. [...]
He states For know you this and understand, that is, be actually certain of it and not just habitually. “These things I write to you that you may know that you have eternal life; you who believe in the name of the Son of God” (1 Jn. 5:13). And what does he write? That no fornicator or unclean or covetous person, which is a serving of idols, hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.
Notice that he calls covetousness idolatry, for idolatry happens when the honor due God alone is given to creatures. Now there is a twofold honor due God; we must establish him as the goal of our life and we must put our trust of reaching the goal in him. Hence, whoever places these ‘in creatures is guilty of idolatry. A covetous person commits this when he fixes his end in a created reality as well as putting all his trust in it. “Of their silver and their gold they have made idols to themselves, that they might perish” (Os. 8:4). This happens since, as Proverbs 11 (28) affirms: “He that trusteth in his riches shall fall.” [...]
Notice that only in reference to carnal vices does he teach them to avoid being deceived. For from the beginning men have rationalized to find reasons why fornication and other venereal sins were not really sins so that they might indulge their cupidity without restraint. Hence he states vain words since words that claim these are not sins and do not exclude one from the kingdom of God and of Christ are irrational. “Beware lest any man cheat you by prophecy and vain deceit” (Col. 2:8).”
He demonstrates that such men are deceivers and their words fallacious since, if carnal sins were not sins, they would not be punished by God; God is just and does not impose a penalty where there is no offense. But such acts are punished by God and therefore are sins. He proves the minor when he says For because of these things comes the anger of God, namely, on account of carnal sins, upon the children of despair. This is evident in the flood (Gen. 7), in what happened to the Sodomites (Gen. 19); and again, almost the whole tribe of Benjamin was destroyed on account of this (Jg. 19 & 20).
He says the children of despair because those who sin in this way despair of eternal life. If they acted this way and still hoped for eternal life, it would rather be presumption than hope, which is the certain expectation of obtaining future beatitude meritoriously.
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Source: St. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephesians, trans. by Matthew L. Lamb (Albany, NY: Magis Books, 1966), Dominican House of Studies website, accessed Sept. 23, 2014, http://dhspriory.org/thomas/Eph5.htm#3, 5.3.
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Monday, September 15, 2014
Hilaire Belloc on the Mood of Faith vs. Its Act
People said that [G.K. Chesterton] might come in at any time because he showed such a Catholic point of view and so much affection for the Catholic Church. That always seemed to me quite the wrong end of the stick. Acceptation of the Faith is an act, not a mood. Faith is an act of the will and as it seemed to me the whole of his mind was occupied in expressing his liking for and attraction towards a certain mood, not at all towards the acceptation of a certain Institution as defined and representing full reality in the world. There is all the difference between enjoying military ideas ... and becoming a private soldier in a common regiment.
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Source: Joseph Pearce, Old Thunder (Charlotte, NC: TAN Books, 2014), 253.
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Source: Joseph Pearce, Old Thunder (Charlotte, NC: TAN Books, 2014), 253.
Accepted Sorrow & Happiness
One has to accept sorrow for it to be of any healing power, and that is the most difficult thing in the world ... A Priest once said to me, "When you understand what accepted sorrow means, you will understand everything. It is the secret of life."
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Source: Maurice Baring, Darby and Joan, quoted in Joseph Pearce, Old Thunder (Charlotte, NC: TAN Books, 2014), 334.
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Source: Maurice Baring, Darby and Joan, quoted in Joseph Pearce, Old Thunder (Charlotte, NC: TAN Books, 2014), 334.
Friday, September 5, 2014
Distinction: "Lifelong Catholic" vs. Living Catholic
There is really only one use for describing oneself as a "lifelong Catholic": a statement of chronological fact regarding one's self conception. In other words, it describes a fact of time—that the lifelong Catholic was baptized soon after birth, confirmed, received First Communion, etc., continued attending Mass throughout life, receiving sacraments, perhaps praying.
But what good is a label in itself? I can call attention to any other "chronological fact" regarding myself—I'm a lifelong brown-haired male. Or I can state a fact regarding how I view myself (self-conception), a view that may change with time; e.g. in high school I believed I was ugly because I had acne.
The label and the self-conception are morally neutral, psychological qualities. These qualities may be harmful or beneficial to our flourishing and striving for happiness. There is, however, no intrinsic point in any of these labels. The labels are spoken so as to be used, to set oneself in relation to something else. Hence labels, while neutral qualities in themselves, are always concretely employed in relation to something else; hence enters their political dimension.
However, I want to draw attention to how a person will call himself a "lifelong Catholic." Usually this label is spoken in order to give moral or political weight and authority to what is said; it serves as a sometimes-very-subtle power play, a badge of honor or pride, saying, "Look at me. I've lived this all my life. My opinion therefore is worth something."
But the problem is that being a "lifelong" anything doesn't guarantee mastery. One could be a lifelong entrepreneur, manager, woodworker, painter, etc. Length of experience certainly exposes one to more possibilities, but it in itself does not guarantee mastery. Mastery requires deliberation and intentionality, usually growing through a slow, heuristic process; sometimes, however, such deliberation draws out an intrinsic genius and leads to spontaneous leaps (punctuated growth rather than gradual).
Hence, the label "lifelong x" is an expression of unconscious pride. The label of the Saint is "I am a sinner; don't listen to me but to Christ, to the doctors, to the Church" (paradoxically in so doing, the Saints then become listened to themselves precisely because they submit their experience and knowledge to the greater tradition and judgment of the Church). The self-styled expert, or "lifelong Catholic," reveals himself to be a novice. If the "lifelong Catholic" would only realize that salvation and sanctification can be lost in a single moment, a single moral act, that salvation is not guaranteed, that the grace of perseverance must always be begged for, that the mystical life, just as with any art and virtue, must be advanced upon by calm and persevering deliberation that is oblivious to time and the growth of which is not set in proportion to the length of time that has passed, then perhaps that lifelong Catholic may actually become a living Catholic, which is the only kind of Catholic that is worth anything for glorifying God, working for the salvation of souls, and being saved.
But what good is a label in itself? I can call attention to any other "chronological fact" regarding myself—I'm a lifelong brown-haired male. Or I can state a fact regarding how I view myself (self-conception), a view that may change with time; e.g. in high school I believed I was ugly because I had acne.
The label and the self-conception are morally neutral, psychological qualities. These qualities may be harmful or beneficial to our flourishing and striving for happiness. There is, however, no intrinsic point in any of these labels. The labels are spoken so as to be used, to set oneself in relation to something else. Hence labels, while neutral qualities in themselves, are always concretely employed in relation to something else; hence enters their political dimension.
However, I want to draw attention to how a person will call himself a "lifelong Catholic." Usually this label is spoken in order to give moral or political weight and authority to what is said; it serves as a sometimes-very-subtle power play, a badge of honor or pride, saying, "Look at me. I've lived this all my life. My opinion therefore is worth something."
But the problem is that being a "lifelong" anything doesn't guarantee mastery. One could be a lifelong entrepreneur, manager, woodworker, painter, etc. Length of experience certainly exposes one to more possibilities, but it in itself does not guarantee mastery. Mastery requires deliberation and intentionality, usually growing through a slow, heuristic process; sometimes, however, such deliberation draws out an intrinsic genius and leads to spontaneous leaps (punctuated growth rather than gradual).
Hence, the label "lifelong x" is an expression of unconscious pride. The label of the Saint is "I am a sinner; don't listen to me but to Christ, to the doctors, to the Church" (paradoxically in so doing, the Saints then become listened to themselves precisely because they submit their experience and knowledge to the greater tradition and judgment of the Church). The self-styled expert, or "lifelong Catholic," reveals himself to be a novice. If the "lifelong Catholic" would only realize that salvation and sanctification can be lost in a single moment, a single moral act, that salvation is not guaranteed, that the grace of perseverance must always be begged for, that the mystical life, just as with any art and virtue, must be advanced upon by calm and persevering deliberation that is oblivious to time and the growth of which is not set in proportion to the length of time that has passed, then perhaps that lifelong Catholic may actually become a living Catholic, which is the only kind of Catholic that is worth anything for glorifying God, working for the salvation of souls, and being saved.
Labels:
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self-knowledge,
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unconscious
Friday, July 25, 2014
Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange on the One Thing Necessary
[4] As soon as a man seriously seeks truth and goodness, this intimate [interior] conversation with himself tends to become conversation with God. Little by little, instead of seeking himself in everything, instead of tending more or less consciously to make himself a center, man tends to seek God in everything, and to substitute for egoism love of God and of souls in Him. This constitutes the interior life. No sincere man will have any difficulty in recognizing it. The one thing necessary which Jesus spoke of to Martha and Mary (Luke 10:42) consists in hearing the word of God and living by it.
The interior life [...] is something far more profound and more necessary in us than intellectual life or the cultivation of the sciences, than artistic or literary life, than social or political life. [...]
[The] interior life, or the life of the soul with God, well deserves to be called the one thing necessary, since by it we tend to our last end and assure our salvation. [...]
There are those who seem to think that it is sufficient to be saved and that it is not necessary to be a saint. It is clearly not necessary to be a saint who performs miracles and whose sanctity is officially recognized by the Church. To be saved, we must take the way of salvation, which is identical with that of sanctity. There will be only saints in heaven, whether they enter there immediately after death or after purification in purgatory. No one enters heaven unless he has that sanctity which consists in perfect purity of soul. Every [5] sin, though it should be venial, must be effaced, and the punishment due to sin must be borne or remitted, in order that a soul may enjoy forever the vision of God, see Him as He sees Himself, and love Him as He loves Himself. Should a soul enter heaven before the total remission of its sins, it could not remain there and it would cast itself into purgatory to be purified.
The interior life of a just man who tends toward God and who already lives by Him is indeed the one thing necessary. To be a saint, neither intellectual culture nor great exterior activity is a requisite; it suffices that we live profoundly by God. [...] If people sacrifice so many things to save the life of the body, which must ultimately die, what should we not sacrifice to save the life of our soul, which is to last forever? Ought not man to love his soul more than his body? "Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?" our Lord adds (Matt. 16:26). "One thing is necessary," He tells us (Luke 10:42). To save our soul, one thing alone is necessary: to hear the word of God and to live by it. Therein lies the best part, which will not be taken away from a faithful soul even though it should lose everything else.
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Source: Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life, trans. by M. Timothea Doyle (Rockford, IL: TAN Books, 1989), 4–5.
The interior life [...] is something far more profound and more necessary in us than intellectual life or the cultivation of the sciences, than artistic or literary life, than social or political life. [...]
[The] interior life, or the life of the soul with God, well deserves to be called the one thing necessary, since by it we tend to our last end and assure our salvation. [...]
There are those who seem to think that it is sufficient to be saved and that it is not necessary to be a saint. It is clearly not necessary to be a saint who performs miracles and whose sanctity is officially recognized by the Church. To be saved, we must take the way of salvation, which is identical with that of sanctity. There will be only saints in heaven, whether they enter there immediately after death or after purification in purgatory. No one enters heaven unless he has that sanctity which consists in perfect purity of soul. Every [5] sin, though it should be venial, must be effaced, and the punishment due to sin must be borne or remitted, in order that a soul may enjoy forever the vision of God, see Him as He sees Himself, and love Him as He loves Himself. Should a soul enter heaven before the total remission of its sins, it could not remain there and it would cast itself into purgatory to be purified.
The interior life of a just man who tends toward God and who already lives by Him is indeed the one thing necessary. To be a saint, neither intellectual culture nor great exterior activity is a requisite; it suffices that we live profoundly by God. [...] If people sacrifice so many things to save the life of the body, which must ultimately die, what should we not sacrifice to save the life of our soul, which is to last forever? Ought not man to love his soul more than his body? "Or what exchange shall a man give for his soul?" our Lord adds (Matt. 16:26). "One thing is necessary," He tells us (Luke 10:42). To save our soul, one thing alone is necessary: to hear the word of God and to live by it. Therein lies the best part, which will not be taken away from a faithful soul even though it should lose everything else.
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Source: Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life, trans. by M. Timothea Doyle (Rockford, IL: TAN Books, 1989), 4–5.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Preoccupation with Trifles and the Meaning of Human Life
Our mass preoccupation with distractions indicates a spiritual illness. How so? Humans are not made to be bored, to have our energies dissipated, unfocused. We have within us incredible stores of energy and desire but nowhere to focus these powers. Grace has nothing to latch onto because nature itself has become ambivalent and apathetic as to its very purpose.
What are we collectively stating about what it means to be human when, say, nearly everyone waiting in a line must occupy themselves by looking at their smart phones, usually texting, checking email, or watching some media? Few people can endure even a silent car ride. The proliferation of social media and websites that capitalize on uploading and sharing such media reveals a deep desire to entertain ourselves, to occupy ourselves... with something, anything.
Again, this desire to be occupied, to focus our desire simply indicates that we have huge stores of energy, untapped and ready to be used. But the fact that we invest it all in trifles indicates that we have no sense of what to do with ourselves, of whom we are, of what our purpose is. If we would make great strides in virtue, we must put away these trifles, not because they are intrinsically evil but because they are the modern day's, everyman temptation to forget about God and forget about ourselves. We forget God because our mind can be focused on only one thing at a time. And we forget about ourselves because by continually occupying our attention on something exterior, we have no psychological space for self-reflection, no way to realize our sinfulness, our brokenness, our desperation.
Silence and solitude are the only way for a person to face themselves squarely, and it is also, not coincidentally, only in the silence that we find God as the Scriptures tell us (1 Kg. 19:11-13).
What are we collectively stating about what it means to be human when, say, nearly everyone waiting in a line must occupy themselves by looking at their smart phones, usually texting, checking email, or watching some media? Few people can endure even a silent car ride. The proliferation of social media and websites that capitalize on uploading and sharing such media reveals a deep desire to entertain ourselves, to occupy ourselves... with something, anything.
Again, this desire to be occupied, to focus our desire simply indicates that we have huge stores of energy, untapped and ready to be used. But the fact that we invest it all in trifles indicates that we have no sense of what to do with ourselves, of whom we are, of what our purpose is. If we would make great strides in virtue, we must put away these trifles, not because they are intrinsically evil but because they are the modern day's, everyman temptation to forget about God and forget about ourselves. We forget God because our mind can be focused on only one thing at a time. And we forget about ourselves because by continually occupying our attention on something exterior, we have no psychological space for self-reflection, no way to realize our sinfulness, our brokenness, our desperation.
Silence and solitude are the only way for a person to face themselves squarely, and it is also, not coincidentally, only in the silence that we find God as the Scriptures tell us (1 Kg. 19:11-13).
Labels:
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Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Knowing What's Right and Waiting for Motivation
Oftentimes I have neglected doing the right thing because even though I knew clearly what I had to do, I was waiting for some confirmation, especially some motivation to go ahead and do it. St. John of the Cross has this to say on the matter, however:
Reflect that your guardian angel does not always move your desire for an action, but he does always enlighten your reason. Hence, in order to practice virtue do not wait until you feel like it, for your reason and intellect are sufficient (Sayings of Light and Love, trans. K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez, n. 37).
Blessed are they who, setting aside their own pleasure and inclination, consider things according to reason and justice before doing them (n. 45).
If you make use of your reason, you are like one who eats substantial food; but if you are moved by the satisfaction of your will, you are like one who eats insipid fruit (n. 46).As Nike says, "Just do it."
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Fr. Victorino Osende on Holy Pride
All passions have a good as well as a bad aspect, but by reason of regarding them always from their bad aspect, we forget the good that is in them. Pride, ambition, anger, and all aversions and affections are bad only when they are disordered, that is, when they deal with unworthy objects or when they are wrongly exercised concerning good objects. Pride is evil if it is founded on one's own worth or induces us to despise others. Ambition is evil if it impels us to strive after false honors and dignities or makes us as eager for false as for true honors. Anger is evil if it moves us to act unjustly or, though justly motivated, exceeds due limits. In short, the love of evil and aversion to good are bad because that is the source from which all sins flow.
However, these same passions are good and holy when they deal with worthy objects and are rightly exercised. Even self-love, which is the root and sum of all the passions, becomes good and holy when it is founded on just motives and deals with objects worthy of man. Righteous self-love is the father of holy pride which makes us esteem ourselves and take just pride in our exalted state as children of God. It is the father of holy ambition which makes us despise all things earthly as unworthy of noble and generous hearts that only the immortal, eternal, and divine can satisfy. It is the father of holy indignation which reveals itself with indomitable energy against every action or intention beneath the dignity of a being whose soul is marked with the seal of divinity.
This is what good self-love and holy pride teach us:
Do not occupy yourself with nor attribute importance to anything but the divine, the immortal, and the eternal, for that alone is worthy of you. Do not occupy yourself with anything earthly, not even to despise it.
Do not sell your holy liberty for anything, for you are worth more than the whole world. Do not make yourself a slave of men or submit to their judgments and whims, for they are not your judges nor your God. God alone is superior to you and only He can judge you.
Conduct yourself well and do all the good that you can for everyone, for you are a child of God and you should do as He did; but never expect any recompense from man. To know that one is good is the best reward.
When that which at one time gave you pleasure becomes a source of mortification to you, then you will be perfect.
He who is a slave of his passions is a slave of every tyranny. No one can be free if he does not liberate himself from himself.
To him who has the approbation of God, the praises and vituperations of men matter little. He who has a place among the angels is little concerned about having one among men.
He who realizes his divine greatness can easily humble himself. Contempt humiliates only the contemptible. He who is proud with a holy pride recognizes no other absolute sovereignty than that of God.
Do not attempt to enslave him whom God has made free, for it is a vain attempt. He will forever sing his sublime Magnificat:
I am nothing.
I am miserable.
I am the least of men.
But God has regarded my humility and has done great things to me.
In God I am great.
In God I am free.
In God I am divine.
No; it is vain to try to enslave him whom God has made free. His heart is free, his soul is free, and his spirit is free, for they are slaves of love and of truth.
Be, therefore, proud with a holy pride and do not taint your dignity or sell your sovereignty for all the world.
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Source: Fr. Victornio Osende, Fruits of Contemplation, trans. by a Dominican Sister of the Perpetual Rosary (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1963), 105-107.
However, these same passions are good and holy when they deal with worthy objects and are rightly exercised. Even self-love, which is the root and sum of all the passions, becomes good and holy when it is founded on just motives and deals with objects worthy of man. Righteous self-love is the father of holy pride which makes us esteem ourselves and take just pride in our exalted state as children of God. It is the father of holy ambition which makes us despise all things earthly as unworthy of noble and generous hearts that only the immortal, eternal, and divine can satisfy. It is the father of holy indignation which reveals itself with indomitable energy against every action or intention beneath the dignity of a being whose soul is marked with the seal of divinity.
This is what good self-love and holy pride teach us:
Do not occupy yourself with nor attribute importance to anything but the divine, the immortal, and the eternal, for that alone is worthy of you. Do not occupy yourself with anything earthly, not even to despise it.
Do not sell your holy liberty for anything, for you are worth more than the whole world. Do not make yourself a slave of men or submit to their judgments and whims, for they are not your judges nor your God. God alone is superior to you and only He can judge you.
Conduct yourself well and do all the good that you can for everyone, for you are a child of God and you should do as He did; but never expect any recompense from man. To know that one is good is the best reward.
When that which at one time gave you pleasure becomes a source of mortification to you, then you will be perfect.
He who is a slave of his passions is a slave of every tyranny. No one can be free if he does not liberate himself from himself.
To him who has the approbation of God, the praises and vituperations of men matter little. He who has a place among the angels is little concerned about having one among men.
He who realizes his divine greatness can easily humble himself. Contempt humiliates only the contemptible. He who is proud with a holy pride recognizes no other absolute sovereignty than that of God.
Do not attempt to enslave him whom God has made free, for it is a vain attempt. He will forever sing his sublime Magnificat:
I am nothing.
I am miserable.
I am the least of men.
But God has regarded my humility and has done great things to me.
In God I am great.
In God I am free.
In God I am divine.
No; it is vain to try to enslave him whom God has made free. His heart is free, his soul is free, and his spirit is free, for they are slaves of love and of truth.
Be, therefore, proud with a holy pride and do not taint your dignity or sell your sovereignty for all the world.
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Source: Fr. Victornio Osende, Fruits of Contemplation, trans. by a Dominican Sister of the Perpetual Rosary (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1963), 105-107.
The Grandeur of Life
Do not underestimate your life nor yourself, for that would be slighting God and you would be doing yourself the greatest possible harm. God does not do things on a small scale. In Him all things are great. He has created you according to His image and likeness and has given you the power to become His child and, as such, to become God by participation in His own divinity. You will therefore be divine if you will but act divinely.
Do not mark your misery and lowliness and say: "I am a poor mortal born for the things of earth; heaven is too high for me and I am not able to mount to it." Do not underestimate yourself this way nor underestimate the work of God. For if you are part earth, you also have a spark of divinity that makes you greater than the universe.
It is not external things that make you great, but you must magnify or make great all things. The smallest thing, the most insignificant action, will become great if you will perform it with a magnanimous spirit. Before God what is great and what is small in the material order? To Him there is but one greatness in man: greatness of heart. Just as God is equally great when He creates an ant as when He creates the universe, for in each case He operates with the same power, so also the man who acts in virtue of his interior greatness elevates all things to his own greatness.
Wherefore, do not mark the external lowliness of your life; do not mark the servility and insignificance of your occupations and believe yourself bereft of the right to true greatness, which is to become like God. Did He not spend thirty years in a carpenter's shop? He did it in order to consecrate your life. Thenceforth there would be no vile or base occupations. Everything is great, everything is holy, everything is divine if we but do it in the spirit of the children of God. What does it matter, then, if my actions and occupations are lowly, if in them I accomplish the will of God and through them I ravish His heart? For nothing pleases Him more than humility of heart!
Sing, then, O soul, sing with jubilation to your God while your hands sow the seed or carve the stone, for thus you sow seeds of eternal life and fashion your eternal crown.
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Source: Fr. Victorino Osende, Fruits of Contemplation, trans. by a Dominican Sister of the Perpetual Rosary (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1963), 104-105.
Do not mark your misery and lowliness and say: "I am a poor mortal born for the things of earth; heaven is too high for me and I am not able to mount to it." Do not underestimate yourself this way nor underestimate the work of God. For if you are part earth, you also have a spark of divinity that makes you greater than the universe.
It is not external things that make you great, but you must magnify or make great all things. The smallest thing, the most insignificant action, will become great if you will perform it with a magnanimous spirit. Before God what is great and what is small in the material order? To Him there is but one greatness in man: greatness of heart. Just as God is equally great when He creates an ant as when He creates the universe, for in each case He operates with the same power, so also the man who acts in virtue of his interior greatness elevates all things to his own greatness.
Wherefore, do not mark the external lowliness of your life; do not mark the servility and insignificance of your occupations and believe yourself bereft of the right to true greatness, which is to become like God. Did He not spend thirty years in a carpenter's shop? He did it in order to consecrate your life. Thenceforth there would be no vile or base occupations. Everything is great, everything is holy, everything is divine if we but do it in the spirit of the children of God. What does it matter, then, if my actions and occupations are lowly, if in them I accomplish the will of God and through them I ravish His heart? For nothing pleases Him more than humility of heart!
Sing, then, O soul, sing with jubilation to your God while your hands sow the seed or carve the stone, for thus you sow seeds of eternal life and fashion your eternal crown.
---
Source: Fr. Victorino Osende, Fruits of Contemplation, trans. by a Dominican Sister of the Perpetual Rosary (St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co., 1963), 104-105.
Thursday, April 3, 2014
The "Real World" Lie
"In the real world..."
This is one of those deeply-embedded lies of Satan used to justify almost any behavior. Be very wary of it when you encounter it. In every context that I have encountered it, it has been used to justify evil in the name of good. Sometimes I've seen it used simply to justify outright evil and so-called "necessary evils." There are no "necessary" evils. There is physical evil, which isn't in itself evil but evil only in its effects, and there is moral evil, which is a choice that we are not obligated to make under any circumstances. We may feel tempted or pressured to make that choice, but God gives us the grace to do what is good and just at every moment.
The world is God's creation. Creation has a proper end—redemption in Christ to the glory of God. And creation can be abused through sin, in which case it falls under the domain of Satan. These are the three senses in which the Scriptures speak of the "world."
In the real world, there is a heaven and a hell, and in the real world, all is under God's providence. In the real world, every good and evil shall be accounted for at judgment day, and in the real world, truth has the final say. In the real world, God doesn't need us to sell our souls to evil to do what we shortsightedly believe is good, and in the real world, God can turn the darkest situations into light if we only trust Him and do what is right.
You will say, "In the real world...," but you mean "in the world of lies and falsehood, of corruption and short-term goals, of imprudence and taking matters into one's own hands." That is not the real world, but the corruption of the real world through sin freely committed.
This is one of those deeply-embedded lies of Satan used to justify almost any behavior. Be very wary of it when you encounter it. In every context that I have encountered it, it has been used to justify evil in the name of good. Sometimes I've seen it used simply to justify outright evil and so-called "necessary evils." There are no "necessary" evils. There is physical evil, which isn't in itself evil but evil only in its effects, and there is moral evil, which is a choice that we are not obligated to make under any circumstances. We may feel tempted or pressured to make that choice, but God gives us the grace to do what is good and just at every moment.
The world is God's creation. Creation has a proper end—redemption in Christ to the glory of God. And creation can be abused through sin, in which case it falls under the domain of Satan. These are the three senses in which the Scriptures speak of the "world."
In the real world, there is a heaven and a hell, and in the real world, all is under God's providence. In the real world, every good and evil shall be accounted for at judgment day, and in the real world, truth has the final say. In the real world, God doesn't need us to sell our souls to evil to do what we shortsightedly believe is good, and in the real world, God can turn the darkest situations into light if we only trust Him and do what is right.
You will say, "In the real world...," but you mean "in the world of lies and falsehood, of corruption and short-term goals, of imprudence and taking matters into one's own hands." That is not the real world, but the corruption of the real world through sin freely committed.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Religious vs. Spiritual: St. Thomas Aquinas on Approaching God
I went to a brilliant lecture last night given by Br. Thomas Aquinas Pickett of the Order of Preachers on being "religious" vs. "spiritual" and what St. Thomas Aquinas's conception of both are as well as how we approach God. The talk got me thinking about how part of the difficulty with today's meaning of "religion" and "religious" are tied with the other dichotomy between religion vs. secular, a political concept. I don't know enough on the topic to comment further, so I leave this here as a reminder to myself to look into it sometime...in the future...
---
Here's a breakdown of Br. Thomas's presentation (from what I remember, so I hope to re-present the material as accurately as possible):
Today, spirituality often refers to affective experience in the presence of the transcendent. Because these experiences are to be found across religions and systems of thought, spirituality connotes "openness" to other religious experience and doctrine. Spirituality emphasizes the personal (i.e. a personal relationship to the divine rather than an impersonal one). Spirituality is a way of living. Spiritual people will say things like, "I put God (or my relationship with God) above religion/Church/the Bible/doctrine."
Religion is thought of as a "thing," a structure or organized body, either of beliefs or the institution that upholds those beliefs. It connotes tradition, ritual, dogma. Religion is often compartmentalized in the typical life of a modern person, on equal plane with other activity, such as work. Religious people will say things like, "It is the truth of faith that matters, and this must be practiced consistently, no matter how I feel," or "We know God only through the Bible/the Church/religion/doctrine, etc."
Typically, people who emphasize the spiritual more than the religious are "liberal" (in a loose sense of the word). People who emphasize the religious more than spiritual are "conservative."
Interestingly, there are not an insignificant number of people who try to have the "best of both sides," of spirituality and religion, and see aspects of both as necessary.
Preface to how Aquinas would respond to the religion/spirituality dichotomy: it's impossible to talk about one thing in Aquinas because all things are organically united in a whole. To speak about religion, it is necessary to speak about the moral life, through which humans attain their proper happiness and flourishing. Furthermore, how we understand religious and spiritual today was not at all how St. Thomas did. It will be necessary to understand first what St. Thomas meant by these terms before we apply them to the contemporary discussion.
Spiritual for Aquinas = non-physical; thus the realm of intellectual being and activity proper to God, angels, and men.
Religion for Aquinas = a virtue, either acquired or infused (or both), specifically, the potential part of the virtue of Justice that renders to God what is due to Him, namely, honor and reverence, which has two internal acts ((1) devotion, (2) prayer), and several external acts, divided into: 1) bodily reverence, 2) offerings, and 3) the receiving of things.
One is "religious" insofar as one has the virtue of religion. Virtue is a habit, which is an interior disposition of the soul to do good, according to the dictates of right reason (and for infused religion, we must qualify, right reason enlightened by faith). Virtue makes what is good easy, prompt, and joyful to do. But notice, a virtue becomes such in us only insofar as it becomes part of our being, insofar as it is we accomplish the good as though it were second nature, not a struggle. When we are struggling to make a good act, we know that the virtue is not yet ingrained in us.
Devotion, which is the promptness of the will to serve God, is the soul of religion; by prayer, which is the lifting of the mind to God, according to St. John Damascus, we subject ourselves to God and confess our dependence on Him.
It should be clarified that latria (λατρεία, a Greek term that Latin Christianity kept in its integrity as its sacral language developed) literally means "service." Our proper worship of God is our proper service under His command, doing His will. Further, devotion, or the willingness to serve God, is not merely some intellectual aptitude but incorporates the best in the human sensitivity to what is true, good, and beautiful—all the stirring and moving experiences of life and nature, the comedic and tragic, that point us most poignantly to God—these are incorporated into devotion in its full intellectual and affective whole.
Without these internal acts, all exterior acts of religion, whether acquired or infused, are rendered sterile.
Infused religion comes through sanctifying grace and is closely related to the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. By infused religion, we may transform our actions to give them sanctifying and meritorious efficacy (Br. Thomas didn't use these words since the talk was at the popular level); by this virtue, we transform our actions into a kind of perpetual worship, offering all to the Triune God, and receiving Him above all in the Sacraments and in supernatural prayer.
Infused religion also adds a very specific difference to acquired, or natural, religion: sacred revelation shows us how to worship God properly, and we learn how through the Church, who hands on this revelation as a sacred deposit. Although all humans can potentially worship God properly, only Catholics with infused grace may activate that potential through the exercise of the infused virtues.
Therefore, the short answer for Aquinas would be that being religious is more important than being spiritual because true religion already incorporates all that is best in being spiritual anyway under its interior acts of devotion and prayer. Acquired religion focuses our innate spiritual desires into concrete action, which even in the natural world has in every society up until ours incorporated elements like ritual, tradition, sacrifice, and myth. Infused religion is best because it specifies exactly how latria is to be rendered to God because it is God Himself Who communicates to us how to serve Him properly.
Religious are called religious because they offer their entire lives under the vows of religion. Married people also offer a specific form of worship by raising children in Matrimony to the end of glorifying God.
All the baptized are called to practice the virtue of religion.
Three specific ways to grow in the virtue: 1) meditation, especially on God's goodness and our sinfulness (St. Thomas recommends these two general topics as the best for mental prayer); 2) receiving the Sacraments; 3) prayer (Adoration, Contrition, Supplication, Thanksgiving), which makes us go out of ourselves and humbles us before God.
When we receive the Eucharist, we are receiving the very purpose of our life, which is worship of God. St. Thomas notes that we are to be messengers of revelation, of the unveiling of God's glory in the universe, and thus every time we make an act of religion, we change the entire fabric of creation by making present God's glory in a way that was not previously present. Hence, our bodily reverences, such as genuflections and making the Sign of the Cross, should be reverent and visible because they are not only internal acts of humility before God but are also outwardly humbling, insofar as they reveal to those who happen to see us for Whom we stand (or genuflect, if you want to be literal).
Finally, how to tell if you're growing in this virtue: the presence (or absence if you're not growing in it) of spiritual joy. Spiritual joy is not sensible joy although it may be accompanied by sensible joy. Spiritual joy refers to the presence of something good that we desire, and in this case, it is the spiritual good of God. Spiritual joy is the mental vigor that empowers and follows the soul's proper activity, such as in a realization, a recognition, an insight, or the doing or completion of a properly human act. We recognize this vigor when we are engaged in, focused on some task or topic; it can be an intense surge or a continuous stream of concentration, like a spiritual electricity running through us. The greater we desire God, and the further we realize that God is present to us by grace, the greater shall be our joy in serving Him. The ease, the promptitude, the joy with which we serve God will indicate to us how rooted the virtue is.
---
Here's a breakdown of Br. Thomas's presentation (from what I remember, so I hope to re-present the material as accurately as possible):
Today, spirituality often refers to affective experience in the presence of the transcendent. Because these experiences are to be found across religions and systems of thought, spirituality connotes "openness" to other religious experience and doctrine. Spirituality emphasizes the personal (i.e. a personal relationship to the divine rather than an impersonal one). Spirituality is a way of living. Spiritual people will say things like, "I put God (or my relationship with God) above religion/Church/the Bible/doctrine."
Religion is thought of as a "thing," a structure or organized body, either of beliefs or the institution that upholds those beliefs. It connotes tradition, ritual, dogma. Religion is often compartmentalized in the typical life of a modern person, on equal plane with other activity, such as work. Religious people will say things like, "It is the truth of faith that matters, and this must be practiced consistently, no matter how I feel," or "We know God only through the Bible/the Church/religion/doctrine, etc."
Typically, people who emphasize the spiritual more than the religious are "liberal" (in a loose sense of the word). People who emphasize the religious more than spiritual are "conservative."
Interestingly, there are not an insignificant number of people who try to have the "best of both sides," of spirituality and religion, and see aspects of both as necessary.
Preface to how Aquinas would respond to the religion/spirituality dichotomy: it's impossible to talk about one thing in Aquinas because all things are organically united in a whole. To speak about religion, it is necessary to speak about the moral life, through which humans attain their proper happiness and flourishing. Furthermore, how we understand religious and spiritual today was not at all how St. Thomas did. It will be necessary to understand first what St. Thomas meant by these terms before we apply them to the contemporary discussion.
Spiritual for Aquinas = non-physical; thus the realm of intellectual being and activity proper to God, angels, and men.
Religion for Aquinas = a virtue, either acquired or infused (or both), specifically, the potential part of the virtue of Justice that renders to God what is due to Him, namely, honor and reverence, which has two internal acts ((1) devotion, (2) prayer), and several external acts, divided into: 1) bodily reverence, 2) offerings, and 3) the receiving of things.
One is "religious" insofar as one has the virtue of religion. Virtue is a habit, which is an interior disposition of the soul to do good, according to the dictates of right reason (and for infused religion, we must qualify, right reason enlightened by faith). Virtue makes what is good easy, prompt, and joyful to do. But notice, a virtue becomes such in us only insofar as it becomes part of our being, insofar as it is we accomplish the good as though it were second nature, not a struggle. When we are struggling to make a good act, we know that the virtue is not yet ingrained in us.
Devotion, which is the promptness of the will to serve God, is the soul of religion; by prayer, which is the lifting of the mind to God, according to St. John Damascus, we subject ourselves to God and confess our dependence on Him.
It should be clarified that latria (λατρεία, a Greek term that Latin Christianity kept in its integrity as its sacral language developed) literally means "service." Our proper worship of God is our proper service under His command, doing His will. Further, devotion, or the willingness to serve God, is not merely some intellectual aptitude but incorporates the best in the human sensitivity to what is true, good, and beautiful—all the stirring and moving experiences of life and nature, the comedic and tragic, that point us most poignantly to God—these are incorporated into devotion in its full intellectual and affective whole.
Without these internal acts, all exterior acts of religion, whether acquired or infused, are rendered sterile.
Infused religion comes through sanctifying grace and is closely related to the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. By infused religion, we may transform our actions to give them sanctifying and meritorious efficacy (Br. Thomas didn't use these words since the talk was at the popular level); by this virtue, we transform our actions into a kind of perpetual worship, offering all to the Triune God, and receiving Him above all in the Sacraments and in supernatural prayer.
Infused religion also adds a very specific difference to acquired, or natural, religion: sacred revelation shows us how to worship God properly, and we learn how through the Church, who hands on this revelation as a sacred deposit. Although all humans can potentially worship God properly, only Catholics with infused grace may activate that potential through the exercise of the infused virtues.
Therefore, the short answer for Aquinas would be that being religious is more important than being spiritual because true religion already incorporates all that is best in being spiritual anyway under its interior acts of devotion and prayer. Acquired religion focuses our innate spiritual desires into concrete action, which even in the natural world has in every society up until ours incorporated elements like ritual, tradition, sacrifice, and myth. Infused religion is best because it specifies exactly how latria is to be rendered to God because it is God Himself Who communicates to us how to serve Him properly.
Religious are called religious because they offer their entire lives under the vows of religion. Married people also offer a specific form of worship by raising children in Matrimony to the end of glorifying God.
All the baptized are called to practice the virtue of religion.
Three specific ways to grow in the virtue: 1) meditation, especially on God's goodness and our sinfulness (St. Thomas recommends these two general topics as the best for mental prayer); 2) receiving the Sacraments; 3) prayer (Adoration, Contrition, Supplication, Thanksgiving), which makes us go out of ourselves and humbles us before God.
When we receive the Eucharist, we are receiving the very purpose of our life, which is worship of God. St. Thomas notes that we are to be messengers of revelation, of the unveiling of God's glory in the universe, and thus every time we make an act of religion, we change the entire fabric of creation by making present God's glory in a way that was not previously present. Hence, our bodily reverences, such as genuflections and making the Sign of the Cross, should be reverent and visible because they are not only internal acts of humility before God but are also outwardly humbling, insofar as they reveal to those who happen to see us for Whom we stand (or genuflect, if you want to be literal).
Finally, how to tell if you're growing in this virtue: the presence (or absence if you're not growing in it) of spiritual joy. Spiritual joy is not sensible joy although it may be accompanied by sensible joy. Spiritual joy refers to the presence of something good that we desire, and in this case, it is the spiritual good of God. Spiritual joy is the mental vigor that empowers and follows the soul's proper activity, such as in a realization, a recognition, an insight, or the doing or completion of a properly human act. We recognize this vigor when we are engaged in, focused on some task or topic; it can be an intense surge or a continuous stream of concentration, like a spiritual electricity running through us. The greater we desire God, and the further we realize that God is present to us by grace, the greater shall be our joy in serving Him. The ease, the promptitude, the joy with which we serve God will indicate to us how rooted the virtue is.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Chaos to Order: The Sacred Signs
CHAOS
DARKNESS, LIGHT
WATER, FIRE, FLINT (EARTH)
WHEAT, GRAPES, OLIVES
BREAD, WINE, OIL
BED, BOARD, HEARTH
-----------------------------------
FAMILY
PIETAS = FAMILY LOVE, making the necessary sacrifices out of love for the sake of the family
ORDER
---
The Great Easter Vigil
Sister Julianne, then principal and eighth grade teacher, announced the first week of school that this — our last year — would be devoted to the study of the Acts of the Apostles. We were soon to enter into the adult world as adult Christians. Acts was to be our blueprint for Christian living and witness.
Furthermore, all of our religion classes were to be centered on a careful study of the Easter Vigil. In fact, all the principles of Christian living that we were to study would find their beginning and end in this “night of all nights”.
And so she began. She picked up the chalk and went over to the blackboard. She asked us to imagine ourselves living in the pre-historic, Mediterranean world, the world before time began, the world of our spiritual origins. High at the top of the board in large letters she wrote CHAOS, and then continued, constructing this chart:
CHAOS
DARKNESS, LIGHT
WATER, FIRE, FLINT (EARTH)
WHEAT, GRAPES, OLIVES
BREAD, WINE, OIL
BED, BOARD, HEARTH
-----------------------------------
FAMILY
PIETAS = FAMILY LOVE
ORDER
Then she presented her explanation. The Great Easter Vigil will begin in chaos and darkness. We will all be scrambling around in the dark to get where we’re supposed to be. In ritual fashion, we will be making a journey from CHAOS to ORDER. This is what this night is like. This is what our lives are like.
In the beginning of the Book of Genesis, which will be the first of the twelve lessons we will read as the Easter Vigil continues, we will also start with the primeval chaos and darkness. We will hear the voice of God: Let there be LIGHT! As we hear these words, we remember: darkness is never the final word. The movement is from DARKNESS to LIGHT.
The story will continue. WATER will cover the entire earth. Beneath the surface of the water, volcanos will begin erupting and spewing forth FIRE and lava. This lava will sizzle above the waters and, wherever it flows, dry land will begin to emerge: rich, volcanic soil, and hard, stony FLINT.
The emergence of dry land, rich in volcanic soil, will make it possible for wheat, grapes and olives to begin to grow. These in turn will make possible the gifts of bread, wine and oil.
And what is all this leading to? The greatest gift of God’s creating: man. In marriage, man and woman will come together around BED, BOARD AND HEARTH. And this will make possible the gift of FAMILY.
Family is held together by PIETAS. And “pietas” is best translated as “family love.”
The final result is ORDER. Now, all is in accord with God’s plan.
In this same way we celebrate the Easter Vigil. We start in darkness. The priest strikes flint against flint to produce the spark that kindles the paschal fire. From this fire is lit the paschal candle, the light that scatters the darkness. As we follow the light of Christ into the dark space of the church, it begins to fill with the light of many candles. The candidates for baptism pass through the waters, are baptized, and then anointed with oil, the sacred chrism. Soon, they will move to the altar to receive the holy gifts: bread and wine become for us the Body and Blood of Christ. “The newest of the lambs” have been added to the family of God, the Church. Once again, God’s plan for order has been realized.
The challenge: living the sacred signs
Sister Julianne continued. There is a challenge in all of this, however. All these sacred signs are gifts from God. But they must be used according to God’s plan. Consider the grape that becomes wine. When we celebrate a family meal and enjoy drinking God’s gift of wine “that gladdens the heart”, we move from chaos to order. (She drew an arrow from top to bottom). Drinking too much wine, driving drunk, causing an automobile accident that results in the death of two teenagers — chaos. (She drew an arrow from bottom to top.) The sacred sign has been abused; it has not been used according to God’s plan. Order has degenerated into chaos.
She then pointed to “bed, board and hearth”, and continued her explanation. When husband and wife persevere in family love, even through hard and confusing times: chaos to order. Adultery: order to chaos. Great human suffering results from the abuse of God’s gifts, from abusing the sacred signs.
Great blessings come to those who persevere day by day in living the sacred signs. Daily perseverance requires “pietas”, family love. This in turn involves sacrifice on the part of all family members. Wheat, grapes and olives must be totally changed: ground, pressed, transformed. Only then can there be bread, wine and oil.
Consider how we address our Lord when we sing the hymn “Adoro te devote”. We sing the words “Pie pellicane, Iesu Domine”. We may translate this: “O Lord Jesus, O loving pelican”. The mother pelican is said to be “in her piety” when, unable to find food for her young, she returns to her nest and feeds her chicks with her own flesh and blood. When we accept the challenge of the sacred signs, we must be prepared to give of ourselves fully, to be used up, to be changed into something new. This is what “dying to self” and “taking up the Cross” to follow Jesus is all about. And so her explanation ended.
But this was not the end. For the remainder of the school year, our classes frequently made reference to this chart. Gradually each word was opened and explored in depth. OIL: heat, light, medicine; baptism, confirmation, holy orders. BED, BOARD AND HEARTH: the need for human intimacy, the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, the blessing of children, the joy of meals shared, family nights when everybody is home together. There were many things to be said regarding right belief, right practice, the life of prayer. It was a full and busy year.
No matter what topic came under discussion, we returned to the words, signs and ritual actions of the Easter Vigil. In understanding these, we came to understand the fullness of Catholic truth. We were well prepared to enter the adult Catholic world.
---
Source: Fr. Samuel Weber, OSB, "Sacred Signs and Religious Formation," Adoremus Bulletin 14, no. 1 (March 2008), http://www.adoremus.org/0308Weber.html.
DARKNESS, LIGHT
WATER, FIRE, FLINT (EARTH)
WHEAT, GRAPES, OLIVES
BREAD, WINE, OIL
BED, BOARD, HEARTH
-----------------------------------
FAMILY
PIETAS = FAMILY LOVE, making the necessary sacrifices out of love for the sake of the family
ORDER
---
The Great Easter Vigil
Sister Julianne, then principal and eighth grade teacher, announced the first week of school that this — our last year — would be devoted to the study of the Acts of the Apostles. We were soon to enter into the adult world as adult Christians. Acts was to be our blueprint for Christian living and witness.
Furthermore, all of our religion classes were to be centered on a careful study of the Easter Vigil. In fact, all the principles of Christian living that we were to study would find their beginning and end in this “night of all nights”.
And so she began. She picked up the chalk and went over to the blackboard. She asked us to imagine ourselves living in the pre-historic, Mediterranean world, the world before time began, the world of our spiritual origins. High at the top of the board in large letters she wrote CHAOS, and then continued, constructing this chart:
CHAOS
DARKNESS, LIGHT
WATER, FIRE, FLINT (EARTH)
WHEAT, GRAPES, OLIVES
BREAD, WINE, OIL
BED, BOARD, HEARTH
-----------------------------------
FAMILY
PIETAS = FAMILY LOVE
ORDER
Then she presented her explanation. The Great Easter Vigil will begin in chaos and darkness. We will all be scrambling around in the dark to get where we’re supposed to be. In ritual fashion, we will be making a journey from CHAOS to ORDER. This is what this night is like. This is what our lives are like.
In the beginning of the Book of Genesis, which will be the first of the twelve lessons we will read as the Easter Vigil continues, we will also start with the primeval chaos and darkness. We will hear the voice of God: Let there be LIGHT! As we hear these words, we remember: darkness is never the final word. The movement is from DARKNESS to LIGHT.
The story will continue. WATER will cover the entire earth. Beneath the surface of the water, volcanos will begin erupting and spewing forth FIRE and lava. This lava will sizzle above the waters and, wherever it flows, dry land will begin to emerge: rich, volcanic soil, and hard, stony FLINT.
The emergence of dry land, rich in volcanic soil, will make it possible for wheat, grapes and olives to begin to grow. These in turn will make possible the gifts of bread, wine and oil.
And what is all this leading to? The greatest gift of God’s creating: man. In marriage, man and woman will come together around BED, BOARD AND HEARTH. And this will make possible the gift of FAMILY.
Family is held together by PIETAS. And “pietas” is best translated as “family love.”
The final result is ORDER. Now, all is in accord with God’s plan.
In this same way we celebrate the Easter Vigil. We start in darkness. The priest strikes flint against flint to produce the spark that kindles the paschal fire. From this fire is lit the paschal candle, the light that scatters the darkness. As we follow the light of Christ into the dark space of the church, it begins to fill with the light of many candles. The candidates for baptism pass through the waters, are baptized, and then anointed with oil, the sacred chrism. Soon, they will move to the altar to receive the holy gifts: bread and wine become for us the Body and Blood of Christ. “The newest of the lambs” have been added to the family of God, the Church. Once again, God’s plan for order has been realized.
The challenge: living the sacred signs
Sister Julianne continued. There is a challenge in all of this, however. All these sacred signs are gifts from God. But they must be used according to God’s plan. Consider the grape that becomes wine. When we celebrate a family meal and enjoy drinking God’s gift of wine “that gladdens the heart”, we move from chaos to order. (She drew an arrow from top to bottom). Drinking too much wine, driving drunk, causing an automobile accident that results in the death of two teenagers — chaos. (She drew an arrow from bottom to top.) The sacred sign has been abused; it has not been used according to God’s plan. Order has degenerated into chaos.
She then pointed to “bed, board and hearth”, and continued her explanation. When husband and wife persevere in family love, even through hard and confusing times: chaos to order. Adultery: order to chaos. Great human suffering results from the abuse of God’s gifts, from abusing the sacred signs.
Great blessings come to those who persevere day by day in living the sacred signs. Daily perseverance requires “pietas”, family love. This in turn involves sacrifice on the part of all family members. Wheat, grapes and olives must be totally changed: ground, pressed, transformed. Only then can there be bread, wine and oil.
Consider how we address our Lord when we sing the hymn “Adoro te devote”. We sing the words “Pie pellicane, Iesu Domine”. We may translate this: “O Lord Jesus, O loving pelican”. The mother pelican is said to be “in her piety” when, unable to find food for her young, she returns to her nest and feeds her chicks with her own flesh and blood. When we accept the challenge of the sacred signs, we must be prepared to give of ourselves fully, to be used up, to be changed into something new. This is what “dying to self” and “taking up the Cross” to follow Jesus is all about. And so her explanation ended.
But this was not the end. For the remainder of the school year, our classes frequently made reference to this chart. Gradually each word was opened and explored in depth. OIL: heat, light, medicine; baptism, confirmation, holy orders. BED, BOARD AND HEARTH: the need for human intimacy, the sacrament of Holy Matrimony, the blessing of children, the joy of meals shared, family nights when everybody is home together. There were many things to be said regarding right belief, right practice, the life of prayer. It was a full and busy year.
No matter what topic came under discussion, we returned to the words, signs and ritual actions of the Easter Vigil. In understanding these, we came to understand the fullness of Catholic truth. We were well prepared to enter the adult Catholic world.
---
Source: Fr. Samuel Weber, OSB, "Sacred Signs and Religious Formation," Adoremus Bulletin 14, no. 1 (March 2008), http://www.adoremus.org/0308Weber.html.
St. Bernard on the Holy Name of Jesus
"And after eight days were accomplished that the child should be circumcised, his name was called Jesus" (Lk 2:21).
O great and wonderful mystery! The Child was circumcised and called Jesus. What connection does the Evangelist wish to show between these two facts? Circumcision would seem to belong more properly to the saved than to the Savior. It was more befitting Him Who was the great High Priest to perform the rite to others than to submit to it Himself. He allowed it to be administered to Him in order to teach us that He is the Mediator between God and man, Who by His Nativity united His Divinity to our human nature—what is highest to what is lowliest.
He was born of a woman, but of a woman in whom the flower of virginity flourished together with the fruit of fecundity. He was wrapped in swaddling-clothes, but He was honored with the praises of the angelic host. He lay in an obscure manger, but a radiant star from heaven pointed Him out. In like manner, by undergoing the rite of circumcision, He gave further proof of His human nature, but the adorable name of Jesus which He then received is above every other name and declares the glory of His majesty. He was circumcised as a true son of Abraham; as Son of God He is called Jesus. This my Jesus bears not, as others do, an empty name; it is not in Him a shadow of greatness but the reality. Heaven assigned it to Him, for the Evangelist testifies that the angel gave it to Him. And mark the depth of the mystery. It was after His birth that He was called by men Jesus, the name which had been given Him by the angel before His birth. For He is truly the Savior of both angels and men; of men by His Incarnation, of angels from the beginning of creation. Before His birth the angels, who possessed the secrets of God, were allowed to know and utter the sacred name of salvation, but till this day of the Circumcision we knew it not. On this day it was first given me to pronounce confidently the blessed name of my Jesus, the name of my eternal salvation. Can we now doubt or hesitate to proclaim that He Who has condescended to dwell amongst us will work out the salvation of all those who are His own?
Circumcision is necessary for us also, in order that we may receive this name of salvation—a circumcision not according to the letter, but one in spirit and in truth. After the fall of our first parents human nature was wholly infected with the venom of sin. While the human race was yet, as it were, in infancy as to faith and love, man received a commandment suited to his imperfect condition. When he had grown to the age of the more perfect man he received the command of baptism, by which the entire man is circumcised. In like manner our Savior was circumcised in His infancy, and, in His perfect manhood, was pleased to be crucified and to endure a penalty which caused every member of His body and every power of His soul to suffer. What, then, is our moral circumcision if not what the Apostle recommends, "Having food and raiment, with these we are content" (1 Tim 6:8)? [...]
We should, therefore, admit nothing into the soul which we fear would not be acceptable to Him Whose Name is a name of salvation.
Source: St. Bernard, Sermon on the Circumcision, in Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (London: R. & T. Washbourne, Ltd., 1909), 136-138.
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No Christian can now ask why Christ willed to be circumcised. For us He was born, for us He was circumcised, for us He suffered and died. Nothing of all this was for Himself, but all for His elect. He was not circumcised for His own sins, but for ours. The name He was called by the angel before His birth was His name from all eternity. This name of Savior was His natural right; it was born with Him, not imposed by either angel or man. The illustrious Prophet Isaias, predicting the birth of this Divine Child, calls Him by many great titles, but he seems to have been silent on this one name which the angel foretold, and to which the Evangelist bears testimony. Isaias, like Abraham, exulted that might see Christ's day; he, too, saw it and was glad. Rejoicing and praising God, he says: "A child is born to us, a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace" (Is 9:6). These are indeed great names, but where is the name which is above all names, the name of Jesus at which every knee should bow? Perhaps we may find that one name expressed, or poured out in all, for it is the same that was spoken of by the Spouse in the canticle of love, "Thy name is as oil poured out." Therefore, from and in all these names and titles we have but the one name of Jesus. His office of Savior includes all. If one had been wanting, He could neither have been called nor have been the Savior.
Has not each one of us found by experience that He has been Wonderful in the conversion and change of our wills? For is it not the beginning of salvation when we loathe what we formerly loved, grieve over what we once delighted in, embrace what we had feared, follow after that which we had fled from, desire what we had contemned? He that has wrought such wonders in us is assuredly Wonderful.
Jesus shows Himself to be the Counsellor by directing us in the choice of penance and of a well-ordered life, lest our zeal be without knowledge and our good-will without prudence.
It was likewise necessary that we should experience Him to be God the Mighty. God in the remission of our past sins, for none but God can forgive sin, and Mighty when enabling us to fight victoriously those sinful passions which are ever warring in us, and which are liable to render our last state worse than the first.
Does anything still seem wanting to the office of Savior? Yea, truly, the chief thing would be lacking were He not also the Father of the world to come, so that we who are engendered in this world unto death may by Him be raised up to a glorious immortality.
A further title and quality is required—that of the Prince of peace Who has reconciled us to His Father, to Whom He is to give back the kingdom. Otherwise, as children of perdition, we might have risen again to punishment instead of reward.
The government, which is upon His shoulder, shall be magnified by the number of the saved, that He may be truly called the Savior; that there may be no end of peace; and that we may know our salvation to be a true salvation which leaves no fear of failure.
O blessed Name! O sacred Oil! how widely hast thou been spread, how profusely poured out! Whence did this oil come? It came from heaven to Judea, and thence was diffused over the whole earth, to its uttermost bounds. The Church cries out, "Thy name is oil poured out." Poured out, indeed, to overflowing, since it is spread abroad, not only over the heavens and earth, but its influence reaches even to hell; so that "in the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth; and every tongue shall confess" (Phil 2:10) and say, "Thy name is as oil poured out." Behold the name of Christ and the name of Jesus were both communicated to the angels and poured out upon men. I am, then, made a participator in this salutary and life-giving name. I am a shareholder in His inheritance. I am a Christian. I am a brother of Christ. If a brother, then an heir also of God and co-heir with Christ.
And what wonder that the name of the Divine Spouse is poured out? In His passion He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. By this pouring out the plenitude of His divinity is diffused or spread abroad upon the earth, and of His plenitude all shall receive; and when refreshed with the life-giving perfume of this mystic oil they will exclaim, "Thy name is as oil poured out."
[This point forward is an excerpt from Sermon 15 on the Canticle of Canticles, "On the Name of Jesus"; full sermon here: http://www.pathsoflove.com/bernard/songofsongs/sermon15.html.]
But why is this name compared to oil? There is undoubtedly a similitude between the name of the Spouse and oil, and not without reason has the Holy Ghost drawn a comparison between them. Oil gives light, nourishes and strengthens the body, and alleviates pain. Hence it is light, food, and medicine. All these qualities may be recognized in the holy name of Jesus. It shines and gives light when preached, it feeds and strengthens by its remembrance, it alleviates sorrow and anoints the wounds of the soul by its invocation. Let us consider these three qualities singly.
How was it that the light of faith shone forth so suddenly over the whole earth, if not by the preaching of the blessed name of Jesus? Is it not by the light of this name that God has called us "into his marvelous light" (1 Pt 2:9), so that, being enlightened by it, we shall see as the Apostle declares, "For you were heretofore darkness, but now light in the Lord" (Eph 5:8). The Apostle was commanded to carry this name before kings and nations and the children of Israel. He carried it as a brilliant torch, so that he could exclaim: "The night is past, and the day is at hand. Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. Let us walk honestly as in the day" (Rom 13:12). He lifted the light on high, and announced everywhere the name of Jesus and Him crucified. How brilliantly, too, did this light shine forth and attract the gaze of all when from the mouth of Peter the sacred name gave strength to the feet of the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple! Was he not diffusing this light when he said to this name, "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth arise and walk" (Acts 3:6)? And to how many did he not restore sight, and health, and faith, by the power of this same name?
But the name of Jesus is not only light, it is likewise food. Are you not strengthened and consoled as often as you call it to mind? There is no thought that so replenishes and fills the soul with sweetness and spiritual joy; no exercise so efficaciously recruits and refreshes the wearied spirit, and even the senses; so repairs the inward strength, gives vigor to virtue, and cherishes pure affections, as the frequent invocation of the name of Jesus. All food of the soul is unsavory to me if this oil be not poured upon it; it is insipid to me if not seasoned with this name. If you write, it does not relish if I read not there the name of Jesus. If you dispute or instruct, it does not satisfy me if I hear not the sweet sound of the name of Jesus. Jesus is honey to the mouth, music to the ear, jubilee to the heart.
The name of Jesus is, moreover, a sovereign medicine. If there be anyone overwhelmed with sorrow, let Jesus come into his heart, and thence to his lips, and behold, at the rising light of this sacred name all darkness and clouds will be dispersed, peace and joy will return, and the serenity of his mind will be restored. If there be anyone stained with crime and driven headlong by despair to the pit of destruction, let him call upon this life-giving name, and he will speedily be restored to hope and salvation. Is there anyone amongst you in hardness of heart, in sloth, or tepidity, in bitterness of mind, if he will but invoke the name of Jesus his heart will be softened, and tears of contrition will flow gently and abundantly. In dangers and distress, in fears and anxieties, let him call on this name of power, and his confidence will return, his peace of mind will be restored. Doubts and embarrassments will be dispelled and give place to certainty. There is no ill of life, no adversity or misfortune, in which this adorable name will not bring help and fortitude. It is a remedy whose virtue our dear Savior invites us to test. "Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me" (Ps 49:15).
Nothing so efficaciously bridles anger and subdues the fire of all unruly passions as this holy name. When I pronounce the name of Jesus, I represent to myself a man meek and humble of heart, benevolent, chaste, merciful, a man endowed with all sanctity, all graces, all virtues, and I call to mind that this man is Divine, is the Almighty God, Who heals me by His example and strengthens me by His power. All manner of good things come to my mind when the sacred name of Jesus sounds in my ear. I will, therefore, make to myself a sweet and sovereign ointment from the virtues of His humanity and the Omnipotence of His Divinity. It shall be to me a healing balsam, the like to which no physician was ever able to compound. And this electuary, my soul, thou hast laid up in the little vessel of the name of Jesus.
Let, then, this name of power be ever in my heart, that all my thoughts, desires, and actions may be directed by Jesus and unto Jesus. To this He Himself urges me: "Place me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm."
Source: St. Bernard, Sermon on the Holy Name of Jesus, in Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (London: R. & T. Washbourne, Ltd., 1909), 141-147.
O great and wonderful mystery! The Child was circumcised and called Jesus. What connection does the Evangelist wish to show between these two facts? Circumcision would seem to belong more properly to the saved than to the Savior. It was more befitting Him Who was the great High Priest to perform the rite to others than to submit to it Himself. He allowed it to be administered to Him in order to teach us that He is the Mediator between God and man, Who by His Nativity united His Divinity to our human nature—what is highest to what is lowliest.
He was born of a woman, but of a woman in whom the flower of virginity flourished together with the fruit of fecundity. He was wrapped in swaddling-clothes, but He was honored with the praises of the angelic host. He lay in an obscure manger, but a radiant star from heaven pointed Him out. In like manner, by undergoing the rite of circumcision, He gave further proof of His human nature, but the adorable name of Jesus which He then received is above every other name and declares the glory of His majesty. He was circumcised as a true son of Abraham; as Son of God He is called Jesus. This my Jesus bears not, as others do, an empty name; it is not in Him a shadow of greatness but the reality. Heaven assigned it to Him, for the Evangelist testifies that the angel gave it to Him. And mark the depth of the mystery. It was after His birth that He was called by men Jesus, the name which had been given Him by the angel before His birth. For He is truly the Savior of both angels and men; of men by His Incarnation, of angels from the beginning of creation. Before His birth the angels, who possessed the secrets of God, were allowed to know and utter the sacred name of salvation, but till this day of the Circumcision we knew it not. On this day it was first given me to pronounce confidently the blessed name of my Jesus, the name of my eternal salvation. Can we now doubt or hesitate to proclaim that He Who has condescended to dwell amongst us will work out the salvation of all those who are His own?
Circumcision is necessary for us also, in order that we may receive this name of salvation—a circumcision not according to the letter, but one in spirit and in truth. After the fall of our first parents human nature was wholly infected with the venom of sin. While the human race was yet, as it were, in infancy as to faith and love, man received a commandment suited to his imperfect condition. When he had grown to the age of the more perfect man he received the command of baptism, by which the entire man is circumcised. In like manner our Savior was circumcised in His infancy, and, in His perfect manhood, was pleased to be crucified and to endure a penalty which caused every member of His body and every power of His soul to suffer. What, then, is our moral circumcision if not what the Apostle recommends, "Having food and raiment, with these we are content" (1 Tim 6:8)? [...]
We should, therefore, admit nothing into the soul which we fear would not be acceptable to Him Whose Name is a name of salvation.
Source: St. Bernard, Sermon on the Circumcision, in Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (London: R. & T. Washbourne, Ltd., 1909), 136-138.
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No Christian can now ask why Christ willed to be circumcised. For us He was born, for us He was circumcised, for us He suffered and died. Nothing of all this was for Himself, but all for His elect. He was not circumcised for His own sins, but for ours. The name He was called by the angel before His birth was His name from all eternity. This name of Savior was His natural right; it was born with Him, not imposed by either angel or man. The illustrious Prophet Isaias, predicting the birth of this Divine Child, calls Him by many great titles, but he seems to have been silent on this one name which the angel foretold, and to which the Evangelist bears testimony. Isaias, like Abraham, exulted that might see Christ's day; he, too, saw it and was glad. Rejoicing and praising God, he says: "A child is born to us, a son is given to us, and the government is upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, God the Mighty, the Father of the world to come, the Prince of Peace" (Is 9:6). These are indeed great names, but where is the name which is above all names, the name of Jesus at which every knee should bow? Perhaps we may find that one name expressed, or poured out in all, for it is the same that was spoken of by the Spouse in the canticle of love, "Thy name is as oil poured out." Therefore, from and in all these names and titles we have but the one name of Jesus. His office of Savior includes all. If one had been wanting, He could neither have been called nor have been the Savior.
Has not each one of us found by experience that He has been Wonderful in the conversion and change of our wills? For is it not the beginning of salvation when we loathe what we formerly loved, grieve over what we once delighted in, embrace what we had feared, follow after that which we had fled from, desire what we had contemned? He that has wrought such wonders in us is assuredly Wonderful.
Jesus shows Himself to be the Counsellor by directing us in the choice of penance and of a well-ordered life, lest our zeal be without knowledge and our good-will without prudence.
It was likewise necessary that we should experience Him to be God the Mighty. God in the remission of our past sins, for none but God can forgive sin, and Mighty when enabling us to fight victoriously those sinful passions which are ever warring in us, and which are liable to render our last state worse than the first.
Does anything still seem wanting to the office of Savior? Yea, truly, the chief thing would be lacking were He not also the Father of the world to come, so that we who are engendered in this world unto death may by Him be raised up to a glorious immortality.
A further title and quality is required—that of the Prince of peace Who has reconciled us to His Father, to Whom He is to give back the kingdom. Otherwise, as children of perdition, we might have risen again to punishment instead of reward.
The government, which is upon His shoulder, shall be magnified by the number of the saved, that He may be truly called the Savior; that there may be no end of peace; and that we may know our salvation to be a true salvation which leaves no fear of failure.
O blessed Name! O sacred Oil! how widely hast thou been spread, how profusely poured out! Whence did this oil come? It came from heaven to Judea, and thence was diffused over the whole earth, to its uttermost bounds. The Church cries out, "Thy name is oil poured out." Poured out, indeed, to overflowing, since it is spread abroad, not only over the heavens and earth, but its influence reaches even to hell; so that "in the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth; and every tongue shall confess" (Phil 2:10) and say, "Thy name is as oil poured out." Behold the name of Christ and the name of Jesus were both communicated to the angels and poured out upon men. I am, then, made a participator in this salutary and life-giving name. I am a shareholder in His inheritance. I am a Christian. I am a brother of Christ. If a brother, then an heir also of God and co-heir with Christ.
And what wonder that the name of the Divine Spouse is poured out? In His passion He emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. By this pouring out the plenitude of His divinity is diffused or spread abroad upon the earth, and of His plenitude all shall receive; and when refreshed with the life-giving perfume of this mystic oil they will exclaim, "Thy name is as oil poured out."
[This point forward is an excerpt from Sermon 15 on the Canticle of Canticles, "On the Name of Jesus"; full sermon here: http://www.pathsoflove.com/bernard/songofsongs/sermon15.html.]
But why is this name compared to oil? There is undoubtedly a similitude between the name of the Spouse and oil, and not without reason has the Holy Ghost drawn a comparison between them. Oil gives light, nourishes and strengthens the body, and alleviates pain. Hence it is light, food, and medicine. All these qualities may be recognized in the holy name of Jesus. It shines and gives light when preached, it feeds and strengthens by its remembrance, it alleviates sorrow and anoints the wounds of the soul by its invocation. Let us consider these three qualities singly.
How was it that the light of faith shone forth so suddenly over the whole earth, if not by the preaching of the blessed name of Jesus? Is it not by the light of this name that God has called us "into his marvelous light" (1 Pt 2:9), so that, being enlightened by it, we shall see as the Apostle declares, "For you were heretofore darkness, but now light in the Lord" (Eph 5:8). The Apostle was commanded to carry this name before kings and nations and the children of Israel. He carried it as a brilliant torch, so that he could exclaim: "The night is past, and the day is at hand. Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armor of light. Let us walk honestly as in the day" (Rom 13:12). He lifted the light on high, and announced everywhere the name of Jesus and Him crucified. How brilliantly, too, did this light shine forth and attract the gaze of all when from the mouth of Peter the sacred name gave strength to the feet of the lame man at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple! Was he not diffusing this light when he said to this name, "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth arise and walk" (Acts 3:6)? And to how many did he not restore sight, and health, and faith, by the power of this same name?
But the name of Jesus is not only light, it is likewise food. Are you not strengthened and consoled as often as you call it to mind? There is no thought that so replenishes and fills the soul with sweetness and spiritual joy; no exercise so efficaciously recruits and refreshes the wearied spirit, and even the senses; so repairs the inward strength, gives vigor to virtue, and cherishes pure affections, as the frequent invocation of the name of Jesus. All food of the soul is unsavory to me if this oil be not poured upon it; it is insipid to me if not seasoned with this name. If you write, it does not relish if I read not there the name of Jesus. If you dispute or instruct, it does not satisfy me if I hear not the sweet sound of the name of Jesus. Jesus is honey to the mouth, music to the ear, jubilee to the heart.
The name of Jesus is, moreover, a sovereign medicine. If there be anyone overwhelmed with sorrow, let Jesus come into his heart, and thence to his lips, and behold, at the rising light of this sacred name all darkness and clouds will be dispersed, peace and joy will return, and the serenity of his mind will be restored. If there be anyone stained with crime and driven headlong by despair to the pit of destruction, let him call upon this life-giving name, and he will speedily be restored to hope and salvation. Is there anyone amongst you in hardness of heart, in sloth, or tepidity, in bitterness of mind, if he will but invoke the name of Jesus his heart will be softened, and tears of contrition will flow gently and abundantly. In dangers and distress, in fears and anxieties, let him call on this name of power, and his confidence will return, his peace of mind will be restored. Doubts and embarrassments will be dispelled and give place to certainty. There is no ill of life, no adversity or misfortune, in which this adorable name will not bring help and fortitude. It is a remedy whose virtue our dear Savior invites us to test. "Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me" (Ps 49:15).
Nothing so efficaciously bridles anger and subdues the fire of all unruly passions as this holy name. When I pronounce the name of Jesus, I represent to myself a man meek and humble of heart, benevolent, chaste, merciful, a man endowed with all sanctity, all graces, all virtues, and I call to mind that this man is Divine, is the Almighty God, Who heals me by His example and strengthens me by His power. All manner of good things come to my mind when the sacred name of Jesus sounds in my ear. I will, therefore, make to myself a sweet and sovereign ointment from the virtues of His humanity and the Omnipotence of His Divinity. It shall be to me a healing balsam, the like to which no physician was ever able to compound. And this electuary, my soul, thou hast laid up in the little vessel of the name of Jesus.
Let, then, this name of power be ever in my heart, that all my thoughts, desires, and actions may be directed by Jesus and unto Jesus. To this He Himself urges me: "Place me as a seal upon thy heart, as a seal upon thy arm."
Source: St. Bernard, Sermon on the Holy Name of Jesus, in Sermons of St. Bernard on Advent and Christmas (London: R. & T. Washbourne, Ltd., 1909), 141-147.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
The Mass in Relation to the Liturgical Year and Salvation History
The Mass considered in its Relations to the Life of Jesus Christ, to the Ecclesiastical Year, and to the Universal History of Religion
By the Rev. Leop. J. Dujardin. C.SS.R.
The civil year is an abridgment of human life in which one natural discerns four seasons; the day is an abridgment of the year. So also, the ecclesiastical year, which begins with Advent, is an abridgment of the principal mysteries of religion; and one may see in the ceremonies of the Mass an abridgment of the ecclesiastical year.
I. Preparation.
The altar is erected, lit up by burning candles, adorned with verdure and flowers, and other decorations; legions of angels range themselves around it: think here of the creation of the world.
Sacred relics are deposited there; the saints descend from heaven and join the angels in order to adore our divine Savior: think of the redemption of the world.
2. The Beginning of the Mass.
The priest arrives at the altar and inclines profoundly: the first man, opening his eyes to the light, pays homage to his Creator.
The priest ascends the altar: man takes possession of the empire that God has prepared for him.
The priest goes to open the Missal, and returns to the middle of the altar, where he again inclines: man receives the law from God and promises to obey him.
The priest descends from the altar: the fall of man.
The priest humbles himself and strikes his breast, then he stands erect, and ascends again the altar while praying: man acknowledges his fault; God has compassion on him and promises him a Savior; he is consoled, hopes, and prays while working. Let us too, with the priest, remember our sins, humble ourselves, and pray with confidence.
3. Kyrie Eleison.
The patriarchs and the prophets sighed for the coming of the Messiah during four thousand years; this is perfectly expressed by the nine-fold repetition of this ardent prayer. Let us enter into the same sentiments, and let us ask Jesus Christ to be born and to grow in our hearts while we say with fervor: Kyrie eleison, etc.
4. Gloria in Excelsis.
It was the angels that intoned this magnificent hymn over the cradle of the Savior, and the poor shepherds of Bethlehem have had the happiness of hearing it. Let us rejoice with them all and repeat this beautiful prayer while meditating on each word.
5. Collect.
Hidden life of Jesus Christ: the Son of God spends thirty years on earth in a most humble condition, in poverty, mortification, labor, patience, sweetness, charity, abnegation, obedience, piety; and before entering public life, he retired to the desert to give himself up to fasting and to prayer during forty days. He gathered from this hidden life a preparation for his public life that would benefit others unto their salvation. What an example!
6. Epistle.
The Epistle is an instruction that our Lord addresses to us through the mouth of the prophets or apostles in order to dispose us to hear him himself. Before appearing in the world, he announced himself through the prophets and his precursor, St. John the Baptist; and before going to preach the Gospel in any place, he made his apostles or disciples precede him in order to prepare men's minds to receive him.
7. Gospel.
Here is our Lord going to instruct us by his own mouth. Let us rise in order to pay to him our respects, to show him that we are ready to obey him; let us make the sign of the cross on our foreheads, on our lips, and on our hearts, to consecrate to him our thoughts, our words, and our affections.
8. Credo.
The Credo is an act of faith in the principal truths that God has revealed to his Church; that which is recited at the Mass is the Symbol of the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople. Let us say it with faith, love, and thanksgiving for the happiness that we have of being Catholics. Having listened to and seen the revelation of God through the Epistle and Gospel, let us respond accordingly by confessing our faith publicly.
9. Offertory.
The Offertory well represents the Lord's Supper, in which our Lord celebrated for the last time the sacrifice of the Old Law before substituting for it the sacrifice of the New Law, of which the Old Law was the figure. Let us offer with the priest the bread and wine, destined to be changed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
10. Lavabo.
The priest washes his hands: our divine Master washes the feet of his disciples, to give us a grand example of humility and charity, and to teach us how pure we should be in order to participate in the adorable mystery that he is about to institute.
11. Orate Fratres.
The priest invites us to pray with more fervor in order that his Sacrifice, which is also ours, may be agreeable to God. Let us answer him with our whole heart: Suscipiat Dominus, etc.
12. Preface.
The Preface is the giving of thanks. Before consecrating bread and wine our divine Savior raised his eyes towards heaven and gave thanks to his Father; this is the reason why the priest in finishing the prayer called Secreta, raises his voice and invites us to thank God through Jesus Christ.
13. Memento of the Living.
Let us here call to mind that Mass has a twofold object: the sacrament of the Eucharist and the sacrifice of the cross which it represents and renews. When leaving the supper-room to go to the Garden of Olives, our Lord offered a fervent prayer for himself and for his Church; this is also done by the priest at this moment; let us unite ourselves to him.
14. Hanc Igitur Oblationem.
While saying this prayer the priest holds his two hands extended over the host and the chalice in order to unite himself with the assistants and all the faithful, as in the sacrifices of the Old Law, to the divine Victim who is about to immolate himself for the salvation of all. Let each one unite his intention to that of the celebrant, while saying with him: Hanc igitur, etc.
15. Consecration.
This is the great moment: the miracle of love is wrought; the minister of God receives and adores Jesus Christ in his hands. The elevation of the Host and the Chalice represents the crucifixion, and the separation of the holy species represents the death of our Lord. Let us reanimate our faith and love; let us prostrate ourselves and adore.
16. Memento of the Dead.
When our Lord drew his last breath on the cross, being entirely consumed for our salvation, his holy soul descended in triumph to Limbo and Purgatory in order to console and deliver the just that were expecting his coming. Let us ask him to visit again at this moment the souls of the faithful departed, and let us think of those to whom we should more particularly give our assistance.
17. Pater Noster.
Let us visit in spirit the tomb of our Savior, and while confiding in the merits of his life and death, recite with confidence the admirable prayer that he has taught and left us.
18. Pax Domini.
While pronouncing these words the priest drops a part of the Host into the Chalice; the two species thus reunited represent the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and peace is announced to the world as it was announced at his birth.
19. Agnus Dei.
Preparation for Communion.—If we have not the happiness of communicating sacramentally with the priest, let us not fail to make a spiritual Communion by uniting ourselves interiorly to Jesus Christ, by a sincere desire to receive him and by an act of fervent love: we should therefore always say the prayers before and after Communion, whether sacramental or spiritual. What hinders our union with God is sin; let us then, before all, beg the Victim, who is without stain, to free us from sin, while saying the Agnus Dei, etc., three times with the priest, and striking our breasts as if acknowledging ourselves guilty.
20. Post-Communion.
Jesus is no longer on the altar; he is in heaven, at the right-hand side of God his Father, and on earth in the hearts of those that have piously received him. After the Ascension, the chief disciples retired with the Blessed Virgin to the Cenaculum, to await there in recollection and prayer the divine Consoler whom Jesus Christ promised to his Church; let us imitate them, kneeling in silent adoration and fervent recollection.
21. Blessing.
The Coming Down of the Holy Ghost.—The Holy Ghost bursts into our world with the full might of his light and love, eager to be received by the faithful. Let us ask him to penetrate our minds and our hearts, and to fill us with his gifts, as we devoutly sign ourselves with the sign of the cross.
22. Last Gospel.
The preaching of the Gospel throughout the world; perpetual struggle of light with darkness, of truth with error, of good with evil. Full of the Holy Ghost, let us march forward. He that has fought well shall be crowned.
Praise be Jesus Christ forever!
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Source: Included in St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Liguori: vol. 13: The Holy Mass, trans by. Eugene Grimm (New York: Benzinger, 1889), 17-21.
By the Rev. Leop. J. Dujardin. C.SS.R.
The civil year is an abridgment of human life in which one natural discerns four seasons; the day is an abridgment of the year. So also, the ecclesiastical year, which begins with Advent, is an abridgment of the principal mysteries of religion; and one may see in the ceremonies of the Mass an abridgment of the ecclesiastical year.
I. Preparation.
The altar is erected, lit up by burning candles, adorned with verdure and flowers, and other decorations; legions of angels range themselves around it: think here of the creation of the world.
Sacred relics are deposited there; the saints descend from heaven and join the angels in order to adore our divine Savior: think of the redemption of the world.
2. The Beginning of the Mass.
The priest arrives at the altar and inclines profoundly: the first man, opening his eyes to the light, pays homage to his Creator.
The priest ascends the altar: man takes possession of the empire that God has prepared for him.
The priest goes to open the Missal, and returns to the middle of the altar, where he again inclines: man receives the law from God and promises to obey him.
The priest descends from the altar: the fall of man.
The priest humbles himself and strikes his breast, then he stands erect, and ascends again the altar while praying: man acknowledges his fault; God has compassion on him and promises him a Savior; he is consoled, hopes, and prays while working. Let us too, with the priest, remember our sins, humble ourselves, and pray with confidence.
3. Kyrie Eleison.
The patriarchs and the prophets sighed for the coming of the Messiah during four thousand years; this is perfectly expressed by the nine-fold repetition of this ardent prayer. Let us enter into the same sentiments, and let us ask Jesus Christ to be born and to grow in our hearts while we say with fervor: Kyrie eleison, etc.
4. Gloria in Excelsis.
It was the angels that intoned this magnificent hymn over the cradle of the Savior, and the poor shepherds of Bethlehem have had the happiness of hearing it. Let us rejoice with them all and repeat this beautiful prayer while meditating on each word.
5. Collect.
Hidden life of Jesus Christ: the Son of God spends thirty years on earth in a most humble condition, in poverty, mortification, labor, patience, sweetness, charity, abnegation, obedience, piety; and before entering public life, he retired to the desert to give himself up to fasting and to prayer during forty days. He gathered from this hidden life a preparation for his public life that would benefit others unto their salvation. What an example!
6. Epistle.
The Epistle is an instruction that our Lord addresses to us through the mouth of the prophets or apostles in order to dispose us to hear him himself. Before appearing in the world, he announced himself through the prophets and his precursor, St. John the Baptist; and before going to preach the Gospel in any place, he made his apostles or disciples precede him in order to prepare men's minds to receive him.
7. Gospel.
Here is our Lord going to instruct us by his own mouth. Let us rise in order to pay to him our respects, to show him that we are ready to obey him; let us make the sign of the cross on our foreheads, on our lips, and on our hearts, to consecrate to him our thoughts, our words, and our affections.
8. Credo.
The Credo is an act of faith in the principal truths that God has revealed to his Church; that which is recited at the Mass is the Symbol of the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople. Let us say it with faith, love, and thanksgiving for the happiness that we have of being Catholics. Having listened to and seen the revelation of God through the Epistle and Gospel, let us respond accordingly by confessing our faith publicly.
9. Offertory.
The Offertory well represents the Lord's Supper, in which our Lord celebrated for the last time the sacrifice of the Old Law before substituting for it the sacrifice of the New Law, of which the Old Law was the figure. Let us offer with the priest the bread and wine, destined to be changed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ.
10. Lavabo.
The priest washes his hands: our divine Master washes the feet of his disciples, to give us a grand example of humility and charity, and to teach us how pure we should be in order to participate in the adorable mystery that he is about to institute.
11. Orate Fratres.
The priest invites us to pray with more fervor in order that his Sacrifice, which is also ours, may be agreeable to God. Let us answer him with our whole heart: Suscipiat Dominus, etc.
12. Preface.
The Preface is the giving of thanks. Before consecrating bread and wine our divine Savior raised his eyes towards heaven and gave thanks to his Father; this is the reason why the priest in finishing the prayer called Secreta, raises his voice and invites us to thank God through Jesus Christ.
13. Memento of the Living.
Let us here call to mind that Mass has a twofold object: the sacrament of the Eucharist and the sacrifice of the cross which it represents and renews. When leaving the supper-room to go to the Garden of Olives, our Lord offered a fervent prayer for himself and for his Church; this is also done by the priest at this moment; let us unite ourselves to him.
14. Hanc Igitur Oblationem.
While saying this prayer the priest holds his two hands extended over the host and the chalice in order to unite himself with the assistants and all the faithful, as in the sacrifices of the Old Law, to the divine Victim who is about to immolate himself for the salvation of all. Let each one unite his intention to that of the celebrant, while saying with him: Hanc igitur, etc.
15. Consecration.
This is the great moment: the miracle of love is wrought; the minister of God receives and adores Jesus Christ in his hands. The elevation of the Host and the Chalice represents the crucifixion, and the separation of the holy species represents the death of our Lord. Let us reanimate our faith and love; let us prostrate ourselves and adore.
16. Memento of the Dead.
When our Lord drew his last breath on the cross, being entirely consumed for our salvation, his holy soul descended in triumph to Limbo and Purgatory in order to console and deliver the just that were expecting his coming. Let us ask him to visit again at this moment the souls of the faithful departed, and let us think of those to whom we should more particularly give our assistance.
17. Pater Noster.
Let us visit in spirit the tomb of our Savior, and while confiding in the merits of his life and death, recite with confidence the admirable prayer that he has taught and left us.
18. Pax Domini.
While pronouncing these words the priest drops a part of the Host into the Chalice; the two species thus reunited represent the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and peace is announced to the world as it was announced at his birth.
19. Agnus Dei.
Preparation for Communion.—If we have not the happiness of communicating sacramentally with the priest, let us not fail to make a spiritual Communion by uniting ourselves interiorly to Jesus Christ, by a sincere desire to receive him and by an act of fervent love: we should therefore always say the prayers before and after Communion, whether sacramental or spiritual. What hinders our union with God is sin; let us then, before all, beg the Victim, who is without stain, to free us from sin, while saying the Agnus Dei, etc., three times with the priest, and striking our breasts as if acknowledging ourselves guilty.
20. Post-Communion.
Jesus is no longer on the altar; he is in heaven, at the right-hand side of God his Father, and on earth in the hearts of those that have piously received him. After the Ascension, the chief disciples retired with the Blessed Virgin to the Cenaculum, to await there in recollection and prayer the divine Consoler whom Jesus Christ promised to his Church; let us imitate them, kneeling in silent adoration and fervent recollection.
21. Blessing.
The Coming Down of the Holy Ghost.—The Holy Ghost bursts into our world with the full might of his light and love, eager to be received by the faithful. Let us ask him to penetrate our minds and our hearts, and to fill us with his gifts, as we devoutly sign ourselves with the sign of the cross.
22. Last Gospel.
The preaching of the Gospel throughout the world; perpetual struggle of light with darkness, of truth with error, of good with evil. Full of the Holy Ghost, let us march forward. He that has fought well shall be crowned.
Praise be Jesus Christ forever!
---
Source: Included in St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Complete Works of Saint Alphonsus de Liguori: vol. 13: The Holy Mass, trans by. Eugene Grimm (New York: Benzinger, 1889), 17-21.
Monday, February 3, 2014
St. John of the Cross on Apostolic Work, pt. 1
Fulfilling the one thing the Bridegroom said was necessary [Lk. 10:42], and that is: attentiveness to God and the continual exercise of love in him. This the Lord values and esteems so highly that he reproved Martha when she tried to call Mary away from her place at his feet in order to busy her with other active things in his service; and Martha thought that she herself was doing all the work and Mary, because she was enjoying the Lord's presence, was doing nothing [Lk. 10:39-41]. Yet, since there is no greater or more necessary work than love, the contrary is true. [...]
A little of this pure love is more precious to God and the soul and more beneficial to the Church, even though it seems one is doing nothing, than all these other [active, exterior] works put together. [...]
Great wrong would be done to a soul who possesses some degree of this solitary love, as well as to the Church, if we were to urge her to become occupied in exterior or active things, even if the works were very important and required only a short time. [...] After all, this love is the end for which we were created.
Let those, then, who are singularly active, who think they can win the world with their preaching and exterior works, observe here that they would profit the Church and please God much more, not to mention the good example they would give, were they to spend at least half of this time with God in prayer, even though they might not have reached a prayer as sublime as [contemplation]. They would then certainly accomplish more, and with less labor, by one work than they otherwise would by a thousand. For through their prayer they would merit this result, and themselves be spiritually strengthened. Without prayer they would do a great deal of hammering but accomplish little, and sometimes nothing, and even at times cause harm. God forbid that the salt should begin to lose its savor [Mt. 5:13]. However much they may appear to achieve externally, they will in substance be accomplishing nothing; it is beyond doubt that good works can be performed only by the power of God.
Oh, how much could be written here on this subject! [...]
[Worldly souls] think these [spiritual] persons are excessive in their conduct, estrangement, and withdrawal, and assert that they are useless in important matters and lost to what the world esteems. The soul skillfully answers this reprimand, boldly facing it and all the other possible reproofs of the world; for in having reached the intimate love of God, she considers everything else of little consequence.
But this is not all. She even proclaims how she has acted, and rejoices and glories in having lost the world and herself for her Beloved. [...] If [worldly souls] no longer see her engaged in her former worldly conversations and pastimes, they should believe and declare that she has lost these things and withdrawn; and she has counted this loss such a good that she herself, searching for her Beloved and intensely enamored of him, desired it. [...] She declares her loss a gain, and as a result she became lost purposely. [...]
The place where people often gather for diversion and recreation [...] is usually called "the common." Thus, by the common the soul refers to the world, where worldlings engage in their pastimes and conversations and feed the flock of their appetites. In this verse she tells those who are of the world that if they neither see nor find her as they did before her complete surrender to God, they should consider her by this fact lost [....]
Those who love are not abashed before the world because of the works they perform for God, nor even if everybody condemns these works do they hide them in shame. Those who are ashamed to confess the Son of God before others, by failing to perform their works, will discover that the Son of God, as is recorded in Luke, will be ashamed to confess them before the Father [Lk. 9:26]. The soul possessing the spirit of love glories rather in beholding that she has achieved this work in praise of her Beloved and lost all things of the world. [...]
Few spiritual persons reach such daring and determination in their works. Though some do act this way, and are considered far advanced, they never lose themselves entirely in some matters, whether worldly or natural, and never execute works for Christ with perfection and nakedness of spirit; they think about what others will say or how their work will appear. Since these persons are not lost to themselves in their work, they cannot declare: "You will say that I am lost." They are still ashamed to confess Christ before others by their works. Because of their human respect they do not live entirely in Christ. [...]
Aware of the Bridegroom's words in the Gospel, that no one can serve two masters but must necessarily fail one [Mt. 6:24], the soul claims here that in order not to fail God she failed all that is not God, that is, herself and all other creatures, losing all these for love of him.
Anyone truly in love will let all other things go in order to come closer to the loved one. [...] She achieved this in two ways: she became lost to herself by paying no attention to herself in anything, by concentrating on her Beloved and surrendering herself to him freely and disinterestedly, with no desire to gain anything for herself; second, she became lost to all creatures, praying no heed to all her own affairs but only to those of her Beloved. [...]
The one who walks in the love of God seeks neither gain nor reward, but seeks only to lose with the will all things and self for God; and this loss the lover judges to be a gain. [...] The soul that does not know how to lose herself does not find herself but rather loses herself, as Our Lord teaches in the Gospel: Those who desire to gain their soul shall lose it, and those who lose it for my sake shall gain it [Mt. 16:25]. [...]
Everything is a gain for the soul whose gain is God, because all the strength of her faculties is converted into a spiritual communion of exceedingly agreeable interior love with him. These interior exchanges between God and the soul bear such delicate and sublime delight that no mortal tongue can describe it or human intellect understand it.
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Source: St. John of the Cross, The Spiritual Canticle, in The Collected Works of St. John of the Cross, trans. by K. Kavanaugh and O. Rodriguez (Washington, DC: ICS Publications, 1991), 587-591, 29.1-4, 5-8, 10-11; 30.1.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Msgr. Romano Guardini on Following Christ
Among the instructions that Jesus gives the Twelve before sending them out into the world are the following:
It is as if humanity were one of those enormous ocean liners that is a world in itself: apparatuses for the most varied purposes; collecting place for all kinds of passengers and crew with responsibilities and accomplishments, passions, tensions, struggles. Suddenly someone appears on board and says: What each of you is doing is important, and you are right to try to perfect your efforts. I can help you, but not by changing this or that on your ship. It is your course that is wrong; you are steering straight for destruction...
Christ does not step into the row of great philosophers with a better philosophy, or of the moralists with a better morality, or of the religious geniuses to conduct man deeper into the mysteries of life. He came to tell us that our whole existence, with all its philosophy and ethics and religion, its economics, art and nature, is leading us away from God and into the shoals. He wants to help us swing the rudder back into the divine direction, and to give us the necessary strength to hold that course.
Any other appreciation of Christ is worthless. If this is not valid, then every man for himself; let him choose whatever guide seems trustworthy, and possibly Goethe or Plato or Buddha is a better leader than what remains of a Jesus Christ whose central purpose and significance have been plucked from him.
Jesus actually is the rescue pilot who puts us back on the right course. It is with this in mind that we must interpret the words about winning the world at the loss of the essential, about losing life, personality, soul, in order to possess them anew and truly. They refer to faith and the imitation of Christ. [...]
For he is the Logos, the source of Living Truth. He demands not only that we consent intellectually to the correctness of his proclamation—that would be only a beginning—but that we feel with all our natural instinct for right and wrong, with heart and soul and every cell of our being, its claims upon us.
We must not forget: the whole ship is headed for disaster. It does not help to change from one side of it to the other or to replace this or that instrument. It is the course that must be altered. We must learn to take completely new bearings.
What does it mean, to be? Philosophy goes into the problem deeply, without changing being at all. Religion tells me that I have been created, that I am continuously receiving myself from divine hands, that I am free yet living from God's strength.
Try to feel your way into this truth, and your whole attitude toward life will change. You will see yourself in an entirely new perspective. What once seemed self-understood becomes questionable. Where once you were indifferent, you become reverent; where self-confident, you learn to know "fear and trembling." But where formerly you felt abandoned, you will now feel secure, living as a child of the Creator-Father, and the knowledge that this is precisely what you are will alter the very taproot of your being [....]
What does it mean to die? Physiology says the blood vessels harden or the organs cease to function. Philosophy speaks of the pathos of finite life condemned to aspire vainly to infinity. Faith defines death as the fruit of sin, and man as peccator (Romans 6:23).
Death's arm is as long as sin's. One day for you too its consequences and death's disintegration will have to be drawn. It will become evident how peccant you are, and consequently moribund. Then all the protective screens so elaborately arranged between you and this fact will fall, and you will have to stand and face your judgment.
But faith also adds, God is love, even though he allows sin to fulfill itself in death, and your Judge is the same as your Savior. If you were to reflect on this, over and over again until its truth was deep in your blood, wouldn't it make a fundamental difference in your attitude toward life, giving you a confidence the world does not have to give? Wouldn't it add a new earnestness and meaning to everything you do?
What precisely is this chain of acts and events that runs from our first hour to our last? The one says natural necessity; the other historical consequence; a third, something else. Faith says: It is Providence. The God who made you, saved you, and will one day place you in his light, also directs your life. What happens between birth and death is message, challenge, test, succor—all from his hands. It is not meant to be learned theoretically, but personally experienced and assimilated. Where this is so, aren't all things necessarily transfigured? What is the resultant attitude but faith?
Religion then! But there are so many, one might object; Christ is just another religious founder.
No; all other religions come from earth. True, God is present in the earth he created, and it is always God whom the various religions honor, but not in the supremacy of his absolute freedom. Earthly religions revere God's activity, the reflections of his power (more or less fragmentary, distorted) as they encounter it in a world that has turned away from him. They are inspired by the breath of the divine, but they exist apart from him; they are saturated with worldly influences, are formed, interpreted, colored by the historical situation of the moment.
Such a religion does not save. It is itself a piece of "world," and he who wins the world loses his soul. Christ brings no "religion," but the message of the living God, who stands in opposition and contradiction to all things, "world religions" included. Faith understands this, for to believe does not mean to participate in one or the other religion, but: "Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ" (John 17:3). Men are to accept Christ's tidings as the norm of their personal lives.
My attitudes toward things to be done may be various. One follows the principle of maximum profit with minimum effort. This is the clever or economical approach. I can also consider a specific task in the light of duty, the fulfillment of which places my life on a spiritual and moral level. Christ teaches neither greater cleverness nor a higher sense of duty; he says: Try to understand everything that comes into your life from the viewpoint of the Father's will.
If I do, what happens? Then I continue to act in accordance with cleverness and utility, but under the eyes of God. I will also do things that seem foolish to the world, but are clever in eternity. I will continue to try to act ethically, to distinguish clearly between right and wrong and to live in increasing harmony with an increasingly dependable conscience.
All this, however, I will do in the living presence of Christ, which will teach me to see things I never would have noticed alone. I will change my concepts and trouble my conscience—but for its good, stripping it of levity's self-confidence, of moral pride, and of the intellectual stiffness that results from too much principle-riding. With increasing delicacy of conscience will come a new firmness of purpose and a new energy (simultaneously protective and creative) for the interests of good.
Similarly, my attitude toward my neighbor may be ordered from various points of view: I can consider others' competition, and attempt to protect my interests from them. I can respect the personality of each. I can see them as co-sharers of destiny, responsible with me for much that is to come, and so on and so forth. Each of these attitudes has its place, but everything is changed once I understand what Christ is saying: You and those near you—through me you have become brothers and sisters, offspring of the same Father. His kingdom is to be realized in your relationship to each other. [...]
This is possible only when some fixed point exists outside the world, and such a point cannot be created by man, but must be accepted from above (as we accept the tidings of divine Providence and his all-directing love). St. Paul words it in his epistle to the Romans (Chapter 8): "Now we know that for those who love God all things work together for good...." This means an ever more complete exchange of natural security, self-confidence and self-righteousness, for confidence in God and his righteousness as it is voiced by Christ and the succession of his apostles.
Until a man makes this transposition he will have no peace. He will realize how the years of his life unroll, and ask himself vainly what remains. He will make moral efforts to improve, only to become either hopelessly perplexed or priggish. He will work, only to discover that nothing he can do stills his heart. He will study, only to progress little beyond vague probabilities—unless his intellectual watchfulness slackens, and he begins to accept possibility for truth or wishes for reality.
He will fight, found, form this and that only to discover that millions have done the same before him and millions will continue to do so after he is gone, without shaping the constantly running sand for more than an instant. He will explore religion, only to founder in the questionableness of all he finds. The world is an entity. Everything in it conditions everything else. Everything is transitory. No single thing helps, because the world as a whole has fallen from grace. One quest alone has an absolute sense: that of the Archimedes point and lever which can lift the world back to God, and these are what Christ came to give.
One more point is important: our Christianity itself must constantly grow. The great revolution of faith is not a lump of reality fallen ready-made from heaven into our laps. It is a constant act of my individual heart and strength. I stand with all I am at the center of my faith, which means that I bring to it also those strands of my being which instinctively pull away from God. It is not as though I, the believer, stand on one side, the fallen world on the other. Actually faith must be realized within the reality of my being, with its full share of worldliness.
Woe to me if I say "I believe" and feel safe in that belief. For then I am already in danger of losing it (see 1 Corinthians 10: 12). Woe to me if I say: "I am a Christian"—possibly with a side-glance at others who in my opinion are not, or at an age that is not, or at a cultural tendency flowing in the opposite direction. Then my so-called Christianity threatens to become nothing but a religious form of self-affirmation.
I "am" not a Christian; I am on the way of becoming one—if God will give me the strength. Christianity is nothing one can "have"; nor is it a platform from which to judge others. It is movement. I can become a Christian only as long as I am conscious of the possibility of falling away. The gravest danger is not failure of the will to accomplish a certain thing; with God's help I can always pull myself together and begin again. The real danger is that of becoming within myself unchristian, and it is greatest when my will is more sure of itself. I have absolutely no guarantee that I shall be privileged to remain a follower of Christ save in the manner of beginning, of being en route, of becoming, trusting, hoping and praying.
"Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring a sword, not peace.... He who loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me. And he who does not take up his cross and follow me, is not worthy of me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for my sake, will find it." (Matthew 10:34-39)
Jesus' message is one of good will. He proclaims the Father's love and the advent of his kingdom. He calls people to the peace and harmony of life lived in the divine will, yet their first reaction is not union, but division. The more profoundly Christian a man becomes, the deeper the cleft between him and those who refuse to follow Christ—its exact measure proportionate to the depth of that refusal.
The split runs right through the most intimate relationship, for genuine conversion is not a thing of natural disposition or historical development, but the most personal decision an individual can make. The one makes it, the other does not; hence, the possibility of schism between father and son, friend and friend, one member of a household and another.
When it comes to a choice between domestic peace and Jesus, one must value Jesus higher, even higher than the most dearly beloved: father and mother, son and daughter, friend or love. This means cutting into the very core of life, and temptation presses us to preserve human ties and abandon Christ. But Jesus warns us: If you hold "life" fast, sacrificing me for it, you lose your own true life. If you let it go for my sake, you will find yourself in the heart of immeasurable reality.
Naturally this is difficult; it is the cross. And here we brush the heaviest mystery of Christianity, the inseparableness from Calvary. Ever since Christ walked the way of the cross, it stands firmly planted on every Christian's road, for every follower of Christ has his own personal cross. Nature revolts against it, wishing to "preserve" herself. She tries to go around it, but Jesus has said unequivocally, and his words are fundamental to Christianity: He who hangs on, body and soul, to "life" will lose it; he who surrenders his will to his cross will find it—once and forever in the immortal self that shares in the life of Christ.
On the last journey to Jerusalem, shortly before the Transfiguration, Jesus' words about the cross are repeated. Then, sharply focused, the new thought:
Why did Jesus come? To add a new, higher value to those already existent? To reveal a new truth over and above existing truth, or a nobler nobility, or a new and more just order of society? No, he came to bring home the terrible fact that everything, great and small, noble and mean, the whole with all its parts—from the corporal to the spiritual, from the sexual to the highest creative urge of genius—is intrinsically corrupt.
This does not deny the existence of individual worth. What is good remains good, and high aspirations will always remain high. Nevertheless, human existence in toto has fallen away from God. Christ did not come to renew this part or that, or to disclose greater human possibilities, but to open man's eyes to what the world and human life as an entity really is; to give him a point of departure from which he can begin all over with his scale of values and with himself. Jesus does not uncover hidden creative powers in man; he refers him to God, center and source of all power.
The split runs right through the most intimate relationship, for genuine conversion is not a thing of natural disposition or historical development, but the most personal decision an individual can make. The one makes it, the other does not; hence, the possibility of schism between father and son, friend and friend, one member of a household and another.
When it comes to a choice between domestic peace and Jesus, one must value Jesus higher, even higher than the most dearly beloved: father and mother, son and daughter, friend or love. This means cutting into the very core of life, and temptation presses us to preserve human ties and abandon Christ. But Jesus warns us: If you hold "life" fast, sacrificing me for it, you lose your own true life. If you let it go for my sake, you will find yourself in the heart of immeasurable reality.
Naturally this is difficult; it is the cross. And here we brush the heaviest mystery of Christianity, the inseparableness from Calvary. Ever since Christ walked the way of the cross, it stands firmly planted on every Christian's road, for every follower of Christ has his own personal cross. Nature revolts against it, wishing to "preserve" herself. She tries to go around it, but Jesus has said unequivocally, and his words are fundamental to Christianity: He who hangs on, body and soul, to "life" will lose it; he who surrenders his will to his cross will find it—once and forever in the immortal self that shares in the life of Christ.
On the last journey to Jerusalem, shortly before the Transfiguration, Jesus' words about the cross are repeated. Then, sharply focused, the new thought:
"For what does it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, but suffer the loss of his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" (Matthew 16:26)This time the point plunges deeper. The dividing line does not run between one person and another, but between the believer, or one desirous of belief, and everything else! Between me and the world. Between me and myself. The lesson of the cross is the great lesson of self-surrender and self-conquest. Our meditations are approaching the passion of the Lord, so it is time that we turn to Christianity's profoundest, but also most difficult mystery.
Why did Jesus come? To add a new, higher value to those already existent? To reveal a new truth over and above existing truth, or a nobler nobility, or a new and more just order of society? No, he came to bring home the terrible fact that everything, great and small, noble and mean, the whole with all its parts—from the corporal to the spiritual, from the sexual to the highest creative urge of genius—is intrinsically corrupt.
This does not deny the existence of individual worth. What is good remains good, and high aspirations will always remain high. Nevertheless, human existence in toto has fallen away from God. Christ did not come to renew this part or that, or to disclose greater human possibilities, but to open man's eyes to what the world and human life as an entity really is; to give him a point of departure from which he can begin all over with his scale of values and with himself. Jesus does not uncover hidden creative powers in man; he refers him to God, center and source of all power.
It is as if humanity were one of those enormous ocean liners that is a world in itself: apparatuses for the most varied purposes; collecting place for all kinds of passengers and crew with responsibilities and accomplishments, passions, tensions, struggles. Suddenly someone appears on board and says: What each of you is doing is important, and you are right to try to perfect your efforts. I can help you, but not by changing this or that on your ship. It is your course that is wrong; you are steering straight for destruction...
Christ does not step into the row of great philosophers with a better philosophy, or of the moralists with a better morality, or of the religious geniuses to conduct man deeper into the mysteries of life. He came to tell us that our whole existence, with all its philosophy and ethics and religion, its economics, art and nature, is leading us away from God and into the shoals. He wants to help us swing the rudder back into the divine direction, and to give us the necessary strength to hold that course.
Any other appreciation of Christ is worthless. If this is not valid, then every man for himself; let him choose whatever guide seems trustworthy, and possibly Goethe or Plato or Buddha is a better leader than what remains of a Jesus Christ whose central purpose and significance have been plucked from him.
Jesus actually is the rescue pilot who puts us back on the right course. It is with this in mind that we must interpret the words about winning the world at the loss of the essential, about losing life, personality, soul, in order to possess them anew and truly. They refer to faith and the imitation of Christ. [...]
For he is the Logos, the source of Living Truth. He demands not only that we consent intellectually to the correctness of his proclamation—that would be only a beginning—but that we feel with all our natural instinct for right and wrong, with heart and soul and every cell of our being, its claims upon us.
We must not forget: the whole ship is headed for disaster. It does not help to change from one side of it to the other or to replace this or that instrument. It is the course that must be altered. We must learn to take completely new bearings.
What does it mean, to be? Philosophy goes into the problem deeply, without changing being at all. Religion tells me that I have been created, that I am continuously receiving myself from divine hands, that I am free yet living from God's strength.
Try to feel your way into this truth, and your whole attitude toward life will change. You will see yourself in an entirely new perspective. What once seemed self-understood becomes questionable. Where once you were indifferent, you become reverent; where self-confident, you learn to know "fear and trembling." But where formerly you felt abandoned, you will now feel secure, living as a child of the Creator-Father, and the knowledge that this is precisely what you are will alter the very taproot of your being [....]
What does it mean to die? Physiology says the blood vessels harden or the organs cease to function. Philosophy speaks of the pathos of finite life condemned to aspire vainly to infinity. Faith defines death as the fruit of sin, and man as peccator (Romans 6:23).
Death's arm is as long as sin's. One day for you too its consequences and death's disintegration will have to be drawn. It will become evident how peccant you are, and consequently moribund. Then all the protective screens so elaborately arranged between you and this fact will fall, and you will have to stand and face your judgment.
But faith also adds, God is love, even though he allows sin to fulfill itself in death, and your Judge is the same as your Savior. If you were to reflect on this, over and over again until its truth was deep in your blood, wouldn't it make a fundamental difference in your attitude toward life, giving you a confidence the world does not have to give? Wouldn't it add a new earnestness and meaning to everything you do?
What precisely is this chain of acts and events that runs from our first hour to our last? The one says natural necessity; the other historical consequence; a third, something else. Faith says: It is Providence. The God who made you, saved you, and will one day place you in his light, also directs your life. What happens between birth and death is message, challenge, test, succor—all from his hands. It is not meant to be learned theoretically, but personally experienced and assimilated. Where this is so, aren't all things necessarily transfigured? What is the resultant attitude but faith?
Religion then! But there are so many, one might object; Christ is just another religious founder.
No; all other religions come from earth. True, God is present in the earth he created, and it is always God whom the various religions honor, but not in the supremacy of his absolute freedom. Earthly religions revere God's activity, the reflections of his power (more or less fragmentary, distorted) as they encounter it in a world that has turned away from him. They are inspired by the breath of the divine, but they exist apart from him; they are saturated with worldly influences, are formed, interpreted, colored by the historical situation of the moment.
Such a religion does not save. It is itself a piece of "world," and he who wins the world loses his soul. Christ brings no "religion," but the message of the living God, who stands in opposition and contradiction to all things, "world religions" included. Faith understands this, for to believe does not mean to participate in one or the other religion, but: "Now this is everlasting life, that they may know thee, the only true God, and him whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ" (John 17:3). Men are to accept Christ's tidings as the norm of their personal lives.
My attitudes toward things to be done may be various. One follows the principle of maximum profit with minimum effort. This is the clever or economical approach. I can also consider a specific task in the light of duty, the fulfillment of which places my life on a spiritual and moral level. Christ teaches neither greater cleverness nor a higher sense of duty; he says: Try to understand everything that comes into your life from the viewpoint of the Father's will.
If I do, what happens? Then I continue to act in accordance with cleverness and utility, but under the eyes of God. I will also do things that seem foolish to the world, but are clever in eternity. I will continue to try to act ethically, to distinguish clearly between right and wrong and to live in increasing harmony with an increasingly dependable conscience.
All this, however, I will do in the living presence of Christ, which will teach me to see things I never would have noticed alone. I will change my concepts and trouble my conscience—but for its good, stripping it of levity's self-confidence, of moral pride, and of the intellectual stiffness that results from too much principle-riding. With increasing delicacy of conscience will come a new firmness of purpose and a new energy (simultaneously protective and creative) for the interests of good.
Similarly, my attitude toward my neighbor may be ordered from various points of view: I can consider others' competition, and attempt to protect my interests from them. I can respect the personality of each. I can see them as co-sharers of destiny, responsible with me for much that is to come, and so on and so forth. Each of these attitudes has its place, but everything is changed once I understand what Christ is saying: You and those near you—through me you have become brothers and sisters, offspring of the same Father. His kingdom is to be realized in your relationship to each other. [...]
This is possible only when some fixed point exists outside the world, and such a point cannot be created by man, but must be accepted from above (as we accept the tidings of divine Providence and his all-directing love). St. Paul words it in his epistle to the Romans (Chapter 8): "Now we know that for those who love God all things work together for good...." This means an ever more complete exchange of natural security, self-confidence and self-righteousness, for confidence in God and his righteousness as it is voiced by Christ and the succession of his apostles.
Until a man makes this transposition he will have no peace. He will realize how the years of his life unroll, and ask himself vainly what remains. He will make moral efforts to improve, only to become either hopelessly perplexed or priggish. He will work, only to discover that nothing he can do stills his heart. He will study, only to progress little beyond vague probabilities—unless his intellectual watchfulness slackens, and he begins to accept possibility for truth or wishes for reality.
He will fight, found, form this and that only to discover that millions have done the same before him and millions will continue to do so after he is gone, without shaping the constantly running sand for more than an instant. He will explore religion, only to founder in the questionableness of all he finds. The world is an entity. Everything in it conditions everything else. Everything is transitory. No single thing helps, because the world as a whole has fallen from grace. One quest alone has an absolute sense: that of the Archimedes point and lever which can lift the world back to God, and these are what Christ came to give.
One more point is important: our Christianity itself must constantly grow. The great revolution of faith is not a lump of reality fallen ready-made from heaven into our laps. It is a constant act of my individual heart and strength. I stand with all I am at the center of my faith, which means that I bring to it also those strands of my being which instinctively pull away from God. It is not as though I, the believer, stand on one side, the fallen world on the other. Actually faith must be realized within the reality of my being, with its full share of worldliness.
Woe to me if I say "I believe" and feel safe in that belief. For then I am already in danger of losing it (see 1 Corinthians 10: 12). Woe to me if I say: "I am a Christian"—possibly with a side-glance at others who in my opinion are not, or at an age that is not, or at a cultural tendency flowing in the opposite direction. Then my so-called Christianity threatens to become nothing but a religious form of self-affirmation.
I "am" not a Christian; I am on the way of becoming one—if God will give me the strength. Christianity is nothing one can "have"; nor is it a platform from which to judge others. It is movement. I can become a Christian only as long as I am conscious of the possibility of falling away. The gravest danger is not failure of the will to accomplish a certain thing; with God's help I can always pull myself together and begin again. The real danger is that of becoming within myself unchristian, and it is greatest when my will is more sure of itself. I have absolutely no guarantee that I shall be privileged to remain a follower of Christ save in the manner of beginning, of being en route, of becoming, trusting, hoping and praying.
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The Glory of God
The classical definition of glory is: clara notitia cum laude ["brilliant celebrity/fame with praise"]. [...] We can distinguish a double glory in God: the intrinsic glory which springs from his intimate divine life, and the extrinsic glory which proceeds from creatures.
Intrinsic glory
The intrinsic glory of God is that which he procures for himself in the bosom of the Trinity. The Father, by way of an intellectual generation, conceives a most perfect idea of himself: his divine Son or his Word, in whom is reflected his life, his beauty, his immensity, his eternity and all his infinite perfections. As a result of their mutual contemplation, there is established between these two divine Persons—by way of procession—a current of indescribable love, an impetuous torrent of fire, which is the Holy Ghost. This knowledge and love of himself, this eternal and incessant praise which God showers upon himself in the incomprehensible mystery of his interior life, constitutes his intrinsic glory, which is rigorously infinite and exhaustive and to which no created being nor the entire universe can contribute absolutely anything. [...]
God's external glory
God is infinitely happy in himself and has no need whatever of creatures. But God is love (Cf. Jn. 4:16), and love is communicative. God is the infinite good, and goodness tends to diffuse itself. As the philosophers say: Bonum est diffusivum sui. Here is the reason for creation. God desired to communicate his infinite perfections to creatures, thereby intending his own extrinsic glory. The glorification of God by creatures is therefore the ultimate reason and supreme finality of creation.
The explanation of this could not be more clear, even to the light of reason deprived of the light of faith. It is a philosophical fact that every agent acts for an end, especially an intellectual agent. Therefore, God, the first and most intelligent of all agents, must always act for some end. But the attributes of God and all his operations are not distinct from his divine essence, they are identified with it. Therefore, if God had intended in the creation of the universe some end distinct from himself, he would have had to refer and subordinate his creative action to that end—for every agent puts its operation at the service of the end which is intended—and hence God himself would have subordinated himself to that end, since his operation is himself. Consequently, that end would have been above God; that is, God would not be God. It is therefore absolutely impossible that God intended by his operations any end distinct from himself. God has created all things for his own glory; and creatures cannot exist but in him and for him. [1]
This does not presuppose a transcendental egoism in God, as some impious philosophers have dared to say; this is the apex of generosity and disinterest. God did not seek his own utility in creation, for he could add nothing at all to his own personal happiness and perfection; but he sought only to communicate his goodness. God knew how to organize things in such a way that creatures would find their own happiness by glorifying God. For that reason St. Thomas says that God alone is infinitely liberal and generous. He does not work because of any need, as if seeking something that he lacks, but only out of goodness, to communicate to creatures his own overflowing happiness.
Sacred Scripture is filled with expressions in which God demands and exacts his own glory: "I am the Lord, this is my name; my glory I give to no other nor my praise to idols" (Is. 42:8). "For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this; why should I suffer profanation? My glory I will not give to another" (Is. 48:11). "Listen to me, Jacob, Israel whom I named! I, it is I who am the first, and also the last am I" (Is. 48:12). "'I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end,' says the Lord God, 'who is and who was and who is coming, the Almighty'" (Apoc. 1:8).
Ultimate End of the Christian Life
Thus the glory of God is the end and purpose of all creation. Even the incarnation of the Word and the redemption of the human race have no other finality than the glory of God: "And when all things are made subject to him, then the Son himself will also be subject to him who subjected all things to him, that God may be all in all" (1 Cor. 15:28). For that reason, St. Paul exhorts us not to take a single step which will not lead to the glory of God: "Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31). For we have been predestined in Christ in order to become a perpetual praise of glory for the Blessed Trinity: "As he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blemish in his sight in love. He predestined us to be adopted through Jesus Christ as his sons, according to the purpose of his will, unto the praise of the glory of his grace, with which he has favored us in his beloved Son . . . for the praise of his glory" (Eph. 1:4-6, 14). Everything must be subordinated to this finality. Even the soul's salvation and sanctification must be sought for the greater glory of God. Our own sanctification and salvation cannot become our absolute ultimate end; even they must be sought only because our happiness consists in the eternal praise of glory of the Blessed Trinity.
Such is the ultimate and absolute end of the entire Christian life. In practice, the soul that aspires to sanctify itself must place as the goal of all its striving the glory of God. Nothing whatever should be preferred to this, not even the desire of one's own salvation or sanctification, which must be considered in a secondary place as the most efficacious means of giving glory to God. One must seek to resemble St. Alphonsus Liguori in this, of whom it was said that he had in his head nothing else but the glory of God, and one must take as a theme or motto the standard of the Society of Jesus as enunciated by St. Ignatius Loyola: "Ad majorem gloriam Dei." All the saints adopted this attitude, following the teaching of St. Paul, who gave this axiom to the Corinthians: "Do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31).
Hence the sanctification of one's own soul is not the ultimate end of the Christian life. Beyond this is the glory of the Blessed Trinity, which is the absolute end of all that exists. And although this truth is so fundamental for those who comprehend the divine transcendence, it nevertheless does not appear to dominate the the lives of the saints until rather late, when the soul is transformed through love in the unity of God, when in the transforming union the soul is fully identified with God. Only Christ and Mary, from the first moment of their existence, realized this glorification of God which is the terminus of all sanctity on this earth. Nothing should so preoccupy the soul which aspires to sanctity as the constant forgetfulness of self and the intention to do all for the greater glory of God. At the summit of the mount of perfection, St. John of the Cross has printed the words: "Here on this mount dwell only the honor and glory of God."
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Notes:
1. In order to understand the finality of creation, it should be noted that God works for an end not only ex parte operis ["out of the part of the work"] but also ex parte operantis ["out of the part of working"]; not, however, as creatures do, for the desire of some end or goal which they do not yet possess, but simply for the love of the end which he already possesses actually in himself, which is nothing other than his goodness identified with his own essence. For that reason, St. Thomas say (De potentia, q. 3, a. 15, ad 14) that the communication of goodness is not the ultimate end, but the divine goodness itself, for love of which God desires to communicate it; for God does not work for his goodness as desirous of that which he does not possess, but as desirous of communicating that which he already possesses. He does not operate for the desire of the end, but for love of the end. "The entire universe with all its parts," says St. Thomas, "is ordained to God as to its ultimate end, in the sense that in all its parts it reflects the divine goodness by a certain limitation and for the glory of God" (Summa, I, q. 65, a. 2).
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Source: Fr. Antonio Royo Marin, The Theology of Christian Perfection, trans. by Jordan Aumann (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2011), 23-26.
Intrinsic glory
The intrinsic glory of God is that which he procures for himself in the bosom of the Trinity. The Father, by way of an intellectual generation, conceives a most perfect idea of himself: his divine Son or his Word, in whom is reflected his life, his beauty, his immensity, his eternity and all his infinite perfections. As a result of their mutual contemplation, there is established between these two divine Persons—by way of procession—a current of indescribable love, an impetuous torrent of fire, which is the Holy Ghost. This knowledge and love of himself, this eternal and incessant praise which God showers upon himself in the incomprehensible mystery of his interior life, constitutes his intrinsic glory, which is rigorously infinite and exhaustive and to which no created being nor the entire universe can contribute absolutely anything. [...]
God's external glory
God is infinitely happy in himself and has no need whatever of creatures. But God is love (Cf. Jn. 4:16), and love is communicative. God is the infinite good, and goodness tends to diffuse itself. As the philosophers say: Bonum est diffusivum sui. Here is the reason for creation. God desired to communicate his infinite perfections to creatures, thereby intending his own extrinsic glory. The glorification of God by creatures is therefore the ultimate reason and supreme finality of creation.
The explanation of this could not be more clear, even to the light of reason deprived of the light of faith. It is a philosophical fact that every agent acts for an end, especially an intellectual agent. Therefore, God, the first and most intelligent of all agents, must always act for some end. But the attributes of God and all his operations are not distinct from his divine essence, they are identified with it. Therefore, if God had intended in the creation of the universe some end distinct from himself, he would have had to refer and subordinate his creative action to that end—for every agent puts its operation at the service of the end which is intended—and hence God himself would have subordinated himself to that end, since his operation is himself. Consequently, that end would have been above God; that is, God would not be God. It is therefore absolutely impossible that God intended by his operations any end distinct from himself. God has created all things for his own glory; and creatures cannot exist but in him and for him. [1]
This does not presuppose a transcendental egoism in God, as some impious philosophers have dared to say; this is the apex of generosity and disinterest. God did not seek his own utility in creation, for he could add nothing at all to his own personal happiness and perfection; but he sought only to communicate his goodness. God knew how to organize things in such a way that creatures would find their own happiness by glorifying God. For that reason St. Thomas says that God alone is infinitely liberal and generous. He does not work because of any need, as if seeking something that he lacks, but only out of goodness, to communicate to creatures his own overflowing happiness.
Sacred Scripture is filled with expressions in which God demands and exacts his own glory: "I am the Lord, this is my name; my glory I give to no other nor my praise to idols" (Is. 42:8). "For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this; why should I suffer profanation? My glory I will not give to another" (Is. 48:11). "Listen to me, Jacob, Israel whom I named! I, it is I who am the first, and also the last am I" (Is. 48:12). "'I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end,' says the Lord God, 'who is and who was and who is coming, the Almighty'" (Apoc. 1:8).
Ultimate End of the Christian Life
Thus the glory of God is the end and purpose of all creation. Even the incarnation of the Word and the redemption of the human race have no other finality than the glory of God: "And when all things are made subject to him, then the Son himself will also be subject to him who subjected all things to him, that God may be all in all" (1 Cor. 15:28). For that reason, St. Paul exhorts us not to take a single step which will not lead to the glory of God: "Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31). For we have been predestined in Christ in order to become a perpetual praise of glory for the Blessed Trinity: "As he chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blemish in his sight in love. He predestined us to be adopted through Jesus Christ as his sons, according to the purpose of his will, unto the praise of the glory of his grace, with which he has favored us in his beloved Son . . . for the praise of his glory" (Eph. 1:4-6, 14). Everything must be subordinated to this finality. Even the soul's salvation and sanctification must be sought for the greater glory of God. Our own sanctification and salvation cannot become our absolute ultimate end; even they must be sought only because our happiness consists in the eternal praise of glory of the Blessed Trinity.
Such is the ultimate and absolute end of the entire Christian life. In practice, the soul that aspires to sanctify itself must place as the goal of all its striving the glory of God. Nothing whatever should be preferred to this, not even the desire of one's own salvation or sanctification, which must be considered in a secondary place as the most efficacious means of giving glory to God. One must seek to resemble St. Alphonsus Liguori in this, of whom it was said that he had in his head nothing else but the glory of God, and one must take as a theme or motto the standard of the Society of Jesus as enunciated by St. Ignatius Loyola: "Ad majorem gloriam Dei." All the saints adopted this attitude, following the teaching of St. Paul, who gave this axiom to the Corinthians: "Do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31).
Hence the sanctification of one's own soul is not the ultimate end of the Christian life. Beyond this is the glory of the Blessed Trinity, which is the absolute end of all that exists. And although this truth is so fundamental for those who comprehend the divine transcendence, it nevertheless does not appear to dominate the the lives of the saints until rather late, when the soul is transformed through love in the unity of God, when in the transforming union the soul is fully identified with God. Only Christ and Mary, from the first moment of their existence, realized this glorification of God which is the terminus of all sanctity on this earth. Nothing should so preoccupy the soul which aspires to sanctity as the constant forgetfulness of self and the intention to do all for the greater glory of God. At the summit of the mount of perfection, St. John of the Cross has printed the words: "Here on this mount dwell only the honor and glory of God."
---
Notes:
1. In order to understand the finality of creation, it should be noted that God works for an end not only ex parte operis ["out of the part of the work"] but also ex parte operantis ["out of the part of working"]; not, however, as creatures do, for the desire of some end or goal which they do not yet possess, but simply for the love of the end which he already possesses actually in himself, which is nothing other than his goodness identified with his own essence. For that reason, St. Thomas say (De potentia, q. 3, a. 15, ad 14) that the communication of goodness is not the ultimate end, but the divine goodness itself, for love of which God desires to communicate it; for God does not work for his goodness as desirous of that which he does not possess, but as desirous of communicating that which he already possesses. He does not operate for the desire of the end, but for love of the end. "The entire universe with all its parts," says St. Thomas, "is ordained to God as to its ultimate end, in the sense that in all its parts it reflects the divine goodness by a certain limitation and for the glory of God" (Summa, I, q. 65, a. 2).
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Source: Fr. Antonio Royo Marin, The Theology of Christian Perfection, trans. by Jordan Aumann (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2011), 23-26.
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