Practicing the Presence of God

In Luke’s Gospel we are told that Jesus recounted the parable of the Persistent Widow to teach the people “the necessity for them to pray always without becoming weary” (Luke 18:1). The word used for necessity means a compulsion, or inner necessity and indicates something that by all means should happen.  

Jesus teaches us that we must pray always without becoming weary. 

Are we to take this literally? Perhaps it is a literary exaggeration, or a hyperbole? 

Yet St. Paul gives a similar exhortation, “Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18). 

Christians throughout the ages have taken this command literally. In early monasticism, Christians retreated from earthly distractions into the desert, and literally tried to pray without ceasing. This may actually be the origin of the Hail Mary and the offices of Liturgy of the Hours. 

While a lay person can engage in similar disciplines and devotions, and this spirituality is laudable, it is clearly not practical for lay people in the midst of the world to live as these desert hermits did. Could there be another way to understand this? 

In his commentary on Psalm 38, St. Augustine comments on the verse, “Lord, before you is all my desire, and my groaning is not hidden from you.” (Psalm 38:9). 

St. Augustine notes,

This very desire is your prayer, and if your desire is continuous, your prayer is continuous too. The apostle meant what he said, Pray without ceasing (1 Thes 5:17). But can we be on our knees all the time, or prostrate ourselves continuously, or be holding up our hands uninterruptedly, that he bids us, Pray without ceasing? If we say that these things constitute prayer, I do not think we can pray without ceasing. But there is another kind of prayer that never ceases, an interior prayer that is desire.

… If you do not want to interrupt your prayer, let your desire be uninterrupted. Your continuous desire is your continuous voice. You will only fall silent if you stop loving. (Expositions of the Psalms 33–50, 9-10).

As St. Augustine notes our interior desire can be a continuous prayer even in the midst of daily life and work. The most important thing in our prayer is our heart. God invites us to share our heart and our desires with him. We can make a habit of lifting up our heart before him, and to ask him to purify our desires according to his will. As St. James reminds us, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). Our desires will be transformed by God's loving presence in our lives. 

This does not imply that we do not also pray with words, As St. Augustine notes, 

Therefore we pray always, with insistent desire, in that same faith and hope and charity. But, we also pray to God in words at certain fixed hours and times, so that we may urge ourselves on and take note with ourselves how much progress we have made in this desire, and may rouse ourselves more earnestly to increase it. (Letter 130, p 390)

St. Augustine also notes, however, that to pray continually does not imply endless speaking. He notes, “But, to pray at length does not mean, as some think, to pray with much speaking [Matt. 6:7]. Continual longing is not the same as much speaking” (Letter 130, p. 391)

Four Ways God is Present to Us 

There are four ways the Church has understood the discipline of learning to live in the presence of God. First we can build an awareness of his loving presence in our lives, secondly we can grow in our understanding of his power, thirdly we can deepen our understanding of the implications of his essence, and finally become more aware of God’s indwelling presence.

  

Building an Awareness of God’s Loving Presence 

The first way to understand God’s presence is by building an awareness of his loving presence in our life. We use this kind of understanding in our modern culture when we say we are being present to another person. 

In recent research on couples, we have discovered that partners will often make many small bids for connection with their spouse. They might say, “Oh, what day at work!” They desire their partner to stop and focus on them, and ask about their day. If their spouse turns toward them, puts down their phone, and looks at them and listens to them, then they are truly being present to their spouse. 

We might also think of the relationship between parents and children. Perhaps a young child is afraid to visit a certain place in their house alone. They may ask the parent, “Can you go with me?” When the parent accompanies them, they are not afraid to go to this place. Another aspect of this relationship might be the child simply looking for connection. A child might say, “Daddy, watch me, I can do a handstand!” Or perhaps, “Dad, did you see that goal?” The child is looking for a sense of secure connection, and affirmation.

While it is true that our modern culture is suffering an epidemic of loneliness, we are never truly alone, because God is always with us. We can choose to cultivate an awareness of his presence, or we can allow ourselves to be distracted. This is especially true today with so many screens and social media offerings. Unfortunately, as many people have experienced during the pandemic, while sometimes helpful, a virtual presence is not the same as a real person, on a human level. 

While God is in some ways like a loving and understanding spouse, or a caring parent, this is merely an analogy. We need to trust that God’s care for us flows from his superabundant love and mercy. He always desires the best for us, and he knows us better than we know ourselves. We need to trust in the promise, “Draw near to God and he will draw near to you” (James 4:8). 

The more we grow in this awareness of God’s watchful presence in our lives, the more it becomes a source of comfort and security. Our response should be to frequently bring to mind God’s presence throughout our day, to seek to please him in what we do, and to talk to him as we go about our daily life. We can freely share all our desires with him, and trust that he will purify our intentions. When we fail, he is quick to forgive us. We can truly be vulnerable with him. We can trust that even in discipline, he desires our ultimate happiness.

Power 

When we understand God’s presence in his power we are saying that nothing happens in this world that is outside God’s control. While God does not cause evil things to happen, nothing happens that he does not at least permit. Everything that happens is in some sense from God’s hand. At times we must try to ignore the human instruments that he allows, and realize that even this is in his control. He may allow it so that some other good may come about.

By granting us freedom, he does allow us to choose paths that are not according to his will, and that lead to a false sense of happiness. In his love and mercy God, “…is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). 

We must learn that at every instance, at every moment of the world, God is guiding things by his providence. Even in the midst of suffering he is present in his power. Suffering is very much part of his plan. In becoming man, Jesus allowed himself to be joined to our sufferings. This means we are not alone, even in our sufferings. As St. Paul reminds us,

“For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor present things, nor future things, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38–39).

Thinking about this, someone might ask, if God is already intimately involved in working out his divine plan, where does prayer come into this? Often we think of prayer in parallel to our human experience. I need to tell God about this, and then tell him what I desire, and finally to try to persuade him. 

Does God need us to inform him about these things? 

St Augustine notes, 

Words, then, are necessary for us so that we may be roused and may take note of what we are asking, but we are not to believe that the Lord has need of them, either to be informed or to be influenced (Letter 130, p. 391–392).

Pray is not a time to inform God or to persuade God. He already knows, and will act according to his divine purpose. When we pray for a favor, and it is granted in our prayer, we have not changed God’s mind. Instead what happens is, we were moved interiorly by God to pray, and we became aware of something he had already chosen to give. 

Again St. Augustine remarks, 

Consequently, that saying of the Apostle: ‘Let your petitions be made known to God,’ [Phil. 4:6] is not to be taken in the sense that they are actually made known to God, who certainly knew them before they were uttered, but that they are made known to us before God, through our patience... (Letter 130, p. 390).

In effect, God stirs our desires interiorly to seek his will and then to pray for that thing. We call this cooperating with grace. As Isaiah writes, “LORD, you will decree peace for us, for you have accomplished all we have done” (Isaiah 26:12). Prayer teaches us to increase our desire to cooperate with God’s divine plan. Every good we accomplish in this life, is in cooperation with him. The only thing we accomplish on our own is sin. 

Someone might think this is too mysterious. Does God then need to reveal his secret desires before we can pray effectively? This is not what St. Augustine suggests, 

You have heard how you are to pray; hear now what you are to ask in prayer, since this is the point about which you especially wanted my advice, being deeply moved by what the Apostle said: ‘For we know not what we should pray for as we ought,’ [Rom. 8:26] and you were afraid you might suffer more harm by not praying as you ought than by not praying at all. This can be summed up briefly thus: Pray for happiness; this is something all men wish to possess, for those who live the most wicked and depraved life would never live that way if they did not imagine themselves happy thereby. So, what else ought we to pray for except that which both bad and good desire, but which only the good attain? (Letter 130, p. 383).

Our life of prayer then should teach us to rely more and more upon God, and less and less upon ourselves. In the words of St. John the Baptist, “He must increase; I must decrease” (John 3:30). As we learn to cooperate more and more with God’s plan, we come to accept the truth of Jesus’s words, “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

Essence 

God is also present by his essence, he is not distant from us. One could get the impression from the previous description of God’s presence that is working from a distance. We see his watchful presence, and his hand guiding all things, and this might give the impression that these activities take place from afar. 

By his divine essence God is not only causing us to live, but to exist. We are given life when God shares his divine essence with us. It is impossible to think of this as something distant. God, in his divine essence, is the very foundation of who we are. Because of this everything we do, and every aspect of who we are, shares in his divine essence. 

In St. Paul’s missionary preaching to the Athenians at the Areopagus, he says ‘In him we live and move and have our being,’ (Acts 17:28). He notes that this saying is even echoed in some ancient Greek poets. It may even be a quotation. These inspired words of Sacred Scripture, remind us of this very truth of God’s essence within us. Whenever anything exists, it cannot be apart from God. God is at the very root of its being. 

God is the cause of our existence, and we cannot continue to exist apart from him. He holds us in existence. Yet this is not something precarious, we trust in his loving plan for us. We are reminded in Ephesians, 

“…he chose us in him, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him. In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will” (Ephesians 1:4–5). 

If we wish to relate this truth to our prayer, it would teach us that God is not spread out over all of creation, but knows us individually and personally. He knows us by name. In fact he knows us better than we even know ourselves. 

In our human relationships, we might have closer friends who know us better than others, but there is no part of God that is missing from our life. God is never distracted or focused elsewhere. In terms of relationship, we have everything we need from him. 

Perhaps fear might enter our heart. We might think, “I’m not that important, why does God care about me?” This is to misunderstand who God is. Unlike us, he is not limited by his attention, or focus, he is always fully present and has revealed his unwavering love for each one of us as individuals. We are each precious to him. He knew our name “before the foundation of the world” and “in love he destined us for adoption.” This should teach us even more about our dependence on God.

His Indwelling 

God’s presence by indwelling this the most intimate form of his presence. If it is possible to think of something more personal than what we have already discussed, God’s presence by his indwelling is even more personal. The reason is that when God dwells in us, we then dwell in him. We are not just held in existence by his presence, we live in his presence. 

Jesus says, “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (John 14:23). We understand this to mean that God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit will indwell us. Jesus is promising that all three persons of the Holy Trinity will come to make their home in our soul. By his watchful care, his power and essence, God guides and sustains us, but by his indwelling he makes his home in us. Furthermore, the first three ways are available to all of creation, but the indwelling of the Holy Trinity is only available to a Christian in the state of grace. 

What this indwelling does is make us friends of God (John 15:15). In taking up residence within our hearts, this does not mean he takes up room within us, pushing us out of the way. He expands our hearts so that we become more, without giving up anything of who we are. We are changed but without being diminished in our individuality. He builds upon and transforms our nature into something new. 

As St. Paul tells us, “So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). He also notes, “All of us, gazing with unveiled face on the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, as from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Corinthians 3:18).  

Many of the saints and doctors of the Church have especially seen this transformation as taking place in a sometimes intangible but ever growing awareness of God’s loving presence in prayer. This love is not from the senses, but spiritual. It is a divinely given thirst. This is a supernatural presence that cannot be brought about by any particular prayer technique. It is a pure gift. On the other hand it is clearly fostered by our humility, docility and cooperation in a life of prayer generally. 

Since the church has taught that there is a universal call to holiness among all the faithful regardless of their state in life, it follows that at least the beginning stages of this awareness of God’s loving presence in prayer, must be available to all Christians. This is God’s transforming presence within us. Learning to enter in to God's love in our prayer in this way, is a long but joyful journey.

_____

Augustine of Hippo, Letters (83–130), ed. Roy Joseph Deferrari, trans. Wilfrid Parsons, vol. 18, The Fathers of the Church (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1953)

My thinking in this blog was inspired greatly by Fr. Ambrose Little, OP, and his talk Keeping Oneself in the Presence of God, which was give for the Thomistic Institute, April 2022

The Joy of Finding What is Lost

Jesus’ words in this Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 15:1-32) remind me of something that happened to me while I was living in Europe a number of years ago. I was living in a small village. I visited a local grocery store and loaded up my cart, and then proceeded to the cashier. Everything seemed normal.

There was one person in front of me so I loaded all my groceries onto the conveyor belt at the checkout. But to my utter surprise, the cashier finished counting the change for the previous customer and then turned to me and announced, “It’s time for my break. I’ll see you in 15 minutes” and promptly marched off.

I stood there for a moment in stunned silence, and then loaded up my groceries again in my cart and moved to a different checkout line. By following the rules, with complete disregard for the person standing in front of her, this casher lost all chance of connection with her customers.

I wonder if sometimes we are also tempted to act the same way, even when we are at Mass. We might have a specific tradition about the way we do things in our parish. Then a visitor joins us, and unwittingly does something differently. How do we treat them?

Someone might have a customary pew they sit in, and arrive at Mass to find it occupied. Perhaps the liturgist plays a new song that is not our list of familiar favorites. Perhaps someone new to the parish looks or acts differently, or seems to not know what is going on in the liturgy. Perhaps there is a family sitting near us struggling with young children. How do we treat these people?

It is interesting that a great deal of our inner struggle to accept others, is not about people breaking God’s law, but annoyance over our own personal preferences.

In our Gospel the Pharisee and scribes grumble against Jesus, because he is willing to eat with irreligious ‘sinners’ who appear to not really be trying to observe the Law.

The purpose of the law was to keep us in relationship with God, and ultimately to lead us to happiness. Jesus is drawn to love those who are confused about happiness. In fact, he prefers to sit with sinners!

The Pharisees and scribes focused on external appearances. They are proud of following the law, and they think they are better than others. Today the word Pharisee a bad word, meaning a religious hypocrite. I think most people would intuitively think this is not about them.

Yet each of us can examine our hearts. Am I truly imitating Jesus in his love for those on the periphery? Do I go out of my way to befriend those who others consider socially undesirable? Jesus did! With complete disregard for what others think, Jesus was deliberately friendly to socially undesirable people. He did this with the express desire of bringing them closer to God. Being lost does not remove us from God’s care. In fact God’s heart pursues them with great passion!

In each of these parables, Jesus points to the joy of finding what is lost. This is not tight-lipped, gloomy faced tolerance. I’m not happy with you, but I will put up with you. Instead it is joy!

This can be a point of pain for some people. If God goes after the one who is lost, what about the other ninety-nine? Yet clearly God loves the ninety-nine as well. He loves each one of us more than we love ourselves!

Many of us, as parents, have experienced one of our children wandering off into difficulties and painful circumstances. If we pursue this troubled child, with a father’s love, or a mother’s love, does this take away from our love for our other children? Is love like money that can be overspent and used up? If you are like me, we can easily accuse ourselves of having not loved enough, but can we ever say we loved too much?

In the heart of our heavenly Father, it is not okay that the coin or sheep are lost, they must be found. God is compelled by love and mercy to search for them. And then mysteriously, God promises that the very act of finding them and bringing them home leads to personal, communal and even heavenly joy (15:6, 9-10, 24, 32). This joy is supernatural!

In our modern world there are two opposing rocks which can shipwreck our faith (CCC 2092). One is a kind of cheap grace that seeks mercy without conversion. By befriending the lost we are not merely tolerating them, as if it is okay to be lost and remain in that state, we are seeking to find and save the lost so that they may be restored to relationship with the fold. Our friendship, acceptance and relationship are guided with the purpose of restoring each person to God's fold.

In the parable of the prodigal son, the lost young man “came to himself” and realized the error of his ways, and returned to his father in repentance saying “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you (Luke 15:18). This is clearly an image of conversion.

The other opposing rock is the attitude of the Pharisee and scribes, but also in the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son. Perhaps someone has begun to think that they have saved themselves by being good. The sight of sinners coming to repentance causes them to be jealous, and perhaps even to feel cheated. After all, they haven't been trying much harder than the wayward son.

In the words of the elder brother, “Behold, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command” (Luke 15:29). Yet, we must ask, was it this son’s obedience that earned him the title of the elder son of his father? Even for the older son, the name son is a gift from the father. He did not earn it, as the Father reminds him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours” (Luke 15:31).

Each one of us must imitate our Lord by seeking the lost and becoming a friend of sinners. Like our Heavenly Father we need to prioritize finding the lost. In order to begin this journey we must recognize that all that we have is from God, and pray that God would share his heart with us.

Imagine what changes would take place in our life if each of us earnestly begged God to share his love for the lost with us, and allow it to soften our hearts. Inspired by this love, let us each imitate Jesus anew by genuinely befriending those who have wandered off. We may discover in this, new found joy. Let us pray, Lord give me a passion for the lost. May it burn within me, and overflow with your joy.

Carrying the Cross of Christ

In this Sunday's Gospel (Luke 14:25-33), Jesus begins with some challenging words.

He says;

“If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother,
wife and children, brothers and sisters,
and even his own life,
he cannot be my disciple.
Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me
cannot be my disciple.

Jesus gives a very strong and uncompromising call to discipleship. Following Jesus, requires a radical commitment to him which is above all other commitments in our life. He does not really want us to hate our parents, but Jesus wants us to understand that he is above our family commitments. Our commitment to him even is above the preservation of our life in face of persecution for the faith. In imitation of him, it involves carrying the cross. Jesus' words are not a metaphor, though we can carry crosses in lesser ways.

The word disciple means to be an apprentice of the master or rabbi. Following the master as a disciple, meant more than just learning a few essential truths about the faith, it meant to literally imitate the master's life as well. We cannot treat our faith like McDonalds fries. Would you like faith with that?  Being a disciple means more than passively jumping on the tourist bus to ride along with Jesus, and getting off at various stops to tour the sights.

We might think about the call that Jesus gave to his first disciples. The call to be a disciple demanded a radical change of life, and a complete commitment of our heart. In fact it cost everything!

As Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, he called out to the fishermen Peter and Andrew saying, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” The two men “At once they left their nets and followed him” (Matthew 4:19-20).

The call to discipleship required a radical drop-your-nets-and-follow decision. This was a decision to put Jesus at the very center of their life. To set aside all other priorities and make Jesus first. This does not remove the disciple from daily life, but our “yes” to Jesus, changes everything about their life.

The fathers of the Second Vatican Council characterized the “breach between faith and daily life” as “one of the more serious errors of our time” (GS 43). “Let there be no false opposition,” they admonish us “between professional and social activity and the life of religion.  The Christian who neglects his temporal duties neglects God and risks his eternal salvation” (GS 43). Faith can never be a personal and private matter that does not affect our entire life.

During the Nazi occupation of Germany, a Protestant minister named Dietrich Bonhoeffer complained about this very issue.  Bonhoeffer contrasted what he termed ‘cheap grace’ or a failure to live the fullness of faith through our life with ‘costly grace.’  His courageous defense of uncompromising faith eventually led to his martyrdom. He wrote,

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance … Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, [and] grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Today we might hear someone say, “I am spiritual but not religious.” They might proclaim, “My faith is personal and private, but I don’t need religion, or the church.” While we support the freedom of each person to follow their own conscience, exalting our own personal and private faith is not following Jesus. Jesus reminds his disciples, “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” Discipleship involves imitating the master, and following him.

In our Gospel last week (Luke 14:1, 7-14) Jesus reminded his followers, “For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”  The key to humility is the recognition that everything we have is from God and a willingness to submit ourselves to his divine will. We need this kind of humility to begin our journey as a disciple. As Jesus says in the beatitudes, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3). St. Gregory of Nyssa asks, "Would you like to know who it is that is poor in spirit?" He notes,

​ ​It is the one who has given the riches of the soul in exchange for material wealth, this is the one who is poor for the sake of the spirit.^[1]

In the end, it is actually our heart, or our will which is a stake, rather than our possessions. But the things of this world weigh us down. St. Gregory of Nyssa notes,

“Gold is a heavy thing, and heavy is every kind of matter that is sought after for the sake of wealth—but virtue is light and bears souls upwards.”^[2]

This is why Jesus says,

“In the same way, anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.”

Above all Jesus wants the full commitment of our hearts, the submission of all things to him. As the apostle James reminds us, “For that person must not suppose that a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways, will receive anything from the Lord” (James 1:8, RSVCE).

Today as we consider these words of Jesus anew, let us humble ourselves before him, and take up our cross and follow him.

 

---

^[1] St. Gregory of Nyssa, “The Beatitudes,” in St. Gregory of Nyssa: The Lord’s Prayer, The Beatitudes, ed. Johannes Quasten and Joseph C. Plumpe, trans. Hilda C. Graef, vol. 18, Ancient Christian Writers (New York; Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1954), 95. I have revised the quoted translation which is “Would you like to know who it is that is poor in spirit? He who is given the riches of the soul in exchange for material wealth, who is poor for the sake of the spirit”

^[2] Ibid., 95.

 ​

Share |

For Every One Who Exalts Himself Will Be Humbled

In our Gospel (Luke 14:1, 7-14) Jesus attends meal at the “home of one of the leading Pharisees.” We are told that Jesus was “observing him carefully.” Jesus tells this parable because he noticed “how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.”

In Jewish culture a high value was placed on notions of honor and shame. At the time of Jesus, it seems social dignity was not based one’s age, but one’s social standing. Those with the highest social standing would be seated nearest to the host. The parable assumes a certain freedom to choose a seat. Those of higher social standing would think it was their right to sit near the host. This choice reveals something about the heart of the one making this choice. Those who seated themselves closer to the host reveal a desire to exalt themselves and to be noticed by others. Such behavior is not consistent with the values of the kingdom. Instead, in imitation of our Lord we should desire to be a servant and to take the lowest place.

As Jesus will say later in the Gospel,

“For which is the greater, one who sits at table, or one who serves? Is it not the one who sits at table? But I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27).

Jesus summarizes, “For every one who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Lk 14:11).

Like many other passages of scripture, this parable promotes the virtue of humility or restraining ourselves from aiming at great things against the workings of right reason.

In a culture which glorifies self-esteem, and a world which lauds those who pursue the dream of fame, power and financial gain, is it reasonable to consider yourself lowly and worthless?  Or even further to live your life in a way which refrains from things which are exalted, from ambition, and from the desire for a high position in the world?

At the very least such a life is very counterintuitive. We might add to this the fear that a life of humility will not lead to happiness. Yet, how many of us have met people who have achieved fame and riches, who in modern parlance are “living the life,” yet we are quick to recognize they are also the unhappiest people we have ever met?

A virtue is a disposition to act a certain way. For Christians, the cardinal virtues of temperance, justice, prudence, and fortitude are enlivened by the supernatural virtues of faith, hope and charity. The virtue of humility is a kind of helping virtue related to hope.

The basic idea of humility would seem to be to view yourself as lowly and worthless. This can occur involuntarily when one is cast down or demoted by another, as a punishment. This occurs in Jesus’ parable when the presumptuous person is moved to a lower place. The virtue of humility can also be a voluntary act. We can reflect on our own failings, and assume the lowest place in response. St. Thomas gives the basic definition for the virtue of humility, as conveying the notion of a praiseworthy self-abasement to the lowest place.” (STh., II-II q.161 a.1 ad 2).

Humility moderates the actions of our passions or emotional desires in relation to the good. We can experience both things which are attractive to our appetite causing us to hope, and things which repel our passions because of the difficulty in obtaining them, which may cause despair. (STh., II-II q. 161).

There are actually two virtues at work in relation to our desire for the good: humility and magnanimity.

St. Thomas notes, “Humility restrains the appetite from aiming at great things against right reason: while magnanimity urges the mind to great things in accord with right reason.” Humility is a moderating and restraining moral virtue, while magnanimity is moral virtue which strengthens it and urges it on.

Yet how do we know if we are thinking rightly about these things? What constitutes the use of  “right reason”? Does the requirement of humility to view yourself as lowly and worthless, cause us to abandon our intuitions toward a healthy self-esteem.

The correct use of this virtue would not be to imitate a garden worm crawling in the dirt! St. Teresa in her, Interior Castle, describes us as miserable worms^[i] who are clearly unworthy of the greatness God has bestowed upon us. She has in mind, however, caterpillars who later transform into butterflies! Yes, we remain unworthy.  Even though we truly are unworthy, we are also children of God who receive his gifts. Both of these are true at the same time.

St. Thomas urges us to use reason to consider all of our strengths and weaknesses and to consider their true origin. We can observes what God has given us, and what we have contributed. (Summa Theol., II-II, q. 161, a. 8, corp.)

On God’s side of the equation are our creation as rational beings, our supernaturalization by grace, and our redemption, but unfortunately on our side is only our sin and deficiencies. The source of all our excellence and glory is God. The truth is, if we are stripped of God’s divine plumage, what is left? We have received everything as a gift, even life itself.

How should we respond to this?

First we need to acknowledge that this is true, and then we need to employ this truth as a practical principle in daily life. We must be willing to remain in the place God has allotted to us in his divine providence, and then to diligently make use of the talents God has bestowed upon us. Notice that the adverb humbly could be added to these actions. To humbly acknowledge, to humbly employ…

The essence of true humility is docility and the subjection of our will to divine Providence. It fundamentally involves a type of self-knowledge, concerning who we are, and the source of all our goodness. St. Josemaría Escrivá notes, “Self-knowledge leads us by the hand, as it were, to humility.” (The Way, 60). Humility restrains our soul from either exceeding or falling below the measure of natural and supernatural gifts which God has bestowed upon us.

Humility is the moderate and reasonable seeking of one's own excellence. It would be false humility to not acknowledge the gifts and talents God has given us. While we must truthfully acknowledge our natural and supernatural strengths, we also remain aware that we will always remain unworthy and that God is the source of all our goodness.

This leads to a full definition; “Humility is the moral virtue by which a person, considering his deficiency, holds himself to what is low according to his measure, out of subjection to God.”^[v]

It is fairly easy to see how the process of gaining humility leads to an awareness of personal sin (CCC 1848) brought about through the prior work of the Holy Spirit (John Paul II, DeV 31 § 2) and a new saving awareness of the gift of redemption that God has offered us. In fact this is a prerequisite for conversion. In the National Directory of Catechesis our bishops note that conversion is,

“the acceptance of a personal relationship with Christ, a sincere adherence to him, and a willingness to conform one's life to his. Conversion to Christ involves making a genuine commitment to him and a personal decision to follow him as his disciple” (NDC, p. 46).

Clearly conversion is most fundamentally about the subjection of our heart, our desires and our will to God. It is a new awareness and reverence for God in our life. It is a genuine commitment to God and a personal decision to follow Jesus as his disciple. It leads to friendship with God.

It is these notions of subjection to God and reverence for God which leads many saints to see the virtue of humility as the gateway, along with detachment from earthly things, to the interior life.

St. Teresa calls humility the ointment of our souls,

“But as we have not yet arrived at this point, let us (as I said) acquire humility, sisters, for this is the ointment of our souls; and if we possess this virtue, the physician, who is God, will come and heal us, though he may delay a little.”^[vi]

St. Teresa notes that we cannot advance in the interior life without humility.  “Humility is that virtue by which our Lord suffers Himself to be overcome, and to grant us whatever we desire of Him. The first mark by which you may discover whether you possess this virtue is, to think yourselves unworthy of these favors and delights from our Lord…”^[vii]

Humility does not come to us in a vacuum. The journey begins with a relationship with God. We cannot advance without spending time with him. There is a kind of prior assumption to all the literature on growth in the interior life. Whether they are the Desert Fathers, or the early Franciscans, or the monks at the Abbey of St. Victor, it was taken for granted that time was being spent in personal prayer and meditation on the Sacred Scripture. This was for the novice. It was the beginning.

If humility is the pearl of great price, the one thing we need more than all else in our walk with the Lord, then each one of us should examine our hearts. I don’t know about you but as I look within my own soul, I have a long journey ahead. 

Recently the Church canonized, St. Josemaría Escrivá. During his lifetime he wrote a very powerful Examination of Conscience for Humility which is worth praying through.   

An Examination of Conscience for Humility

St. Josemaría Escrivá, The Furrow, 609

Allow me to remind you that among other evident signs of a lack of humility are:
—Thinking that what you do or say is better than what others do or say;
—Always wanting to get your own way;
—Arguing when you are not right or — when you are — insisting stubbornly or with bad manners;
—Giving your opinion without being asked for it, when charity does not demand you to do so;
—Despising the point of view of others;
—Not being aware that all the gifts and qualities you have are on loan;
—Not acknowledging that you are unworthy of all honor or esteem, even the ground you are treading on or the things you own;
—Mentioning yourself as an example in conversation;
—Speaking badly about yourself, so that they may form a good opinion of you, or contradict you;
—Making excuses when rebuked;
—Hiding some humiliating faults from your director, so that he may not lose the good opinion he has of you;
—Hearing praise with satisfaction, or being glad that others have spoken well of you;
—Being hurt that others are held in greater esteem than you;
—Refusing to carry out menial tasks;
—Seeking or wanting to be singled out;
—Letting drop words of self-praise in conversation, or words that might show your honesty, your wit or skill, your professional prestige...;
—Being ashamed of not having certain possessions...

 

---

^[i] Saint Teresa of Ávila and John Dalton, The Interior Castle (London: T. Jones, 1852), 3, 118, 120.

^[ii] Fr. Sebastian Carlson, OP, “The Virtue of Humility” The Thomist, April, 1944 Vol. VII, No.2, p. 137.

^[iii] Ibid., p. 140.

^[iv] Ibid., p. 150

^[v] Idid., p 152.

^[vi] Saint Teresa of Ávila and John Dalton, The Interior Castle (London: T. Jones, 1852), p. 35.

^[vii] Ibid., p. 36.

  

 Share |

A Sign of Contradiction

For many people, their mental picture of Jesus is one of a very mild person and someone who never challenges anyone or rejects anyone. It is certainly true that Jesus constantly reached out those who were outside the social click of respectability. He was a friend of sinners. This characterization would not give us the whole picture, however, the same Jesus we see in the Gospels often had harsh things to say to judgmental religious people of his day.

Jesus’ words in this Gospel begin, “I have come.” This expression brings a sense of mission to what follows. Elsewhere “the one who is coming” is a designation for the long-awaited Messiah (cf. Luke 7:19–20). Earlier in our Gospel, John the Baptist's disciples are sent to ask Jesus, “Are you he who is to come, or shall we look for another?” (Luke 7:19). Jesus answers their question by pointing to his fulfillment of the coming of the Holy Spirit in Isaiah 61, which is manifest in Jesus’ works and ministry among the people.

Jesus’ next words are anything but mild. He proclaims, "I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!”

Fire is most often a sign of divine judgement in the Bible. It is destructive and sometimes purifies. Fire is a mixed metaphor, however, as sometimes it can be beneficial or even bring a comfort. In reference to messianic prophecies, John the Baptist promised that the one coming after him would baptize with the Holy Spirit and fire (Luke 3:16).

Later in the Book of Acts, the Holy Spirit descends as a nondestructive fire at Pentecost (Acts 2:3) to bring blessing, and to advance the kingdom. This type of fire connected with the Holy Spirit is more like the presence of God in his glory, than in his judgement.

The difference between blessing and judgment may relate to how each heart is prepared to receive this fire. While the notion of fire may well continue to have the connotation of divine judgement, this judgment is taken up in the death of Jesus on the cross to produce mercy for those who respond to the good news.

Jesus continues “There is a baptism with which I must be baptized, and how great is my anguish until it is accomplished!” Since Jesus has already been baptized by John the Baptist, he is not referring to normal baptism with water.

Instead, it is a clear reference to Jesus’ death. In Mark 10:38–39 Jesus repeats a similar saying and makes it clear he has his death in mind. Jesus’ death is a prototype of later Christian martyrdom or a baptism of blood.

This is how Jesus’ “baptism” by death was understood in Christian traditions beginning with Irenaeus in the late second century. Some have objected that this interpretation is too broad and is reading later traditions back into Jesus’ words, since Jesus is referring here to his own death. But as we see in Mark’s parallel (Mark 10:38–39) the apostles are invited to share in the same fate.

Another consideration is the interpretation of Jesus’s death by the earliest Christian traditions. St. Paul reminds the Romans:

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.

For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. (RSVCE2, Romans 6:3-6, cf. Colossians 2:11-12).

Baptism is compared to Jesus dying and rising again. Our own Baptism results in our being united to Christ in his death, to being in Christ, and one with his body (Galatians 3:27). In Baptism all share in Christ’s death. The indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit is also tied to Baptism (1 Corinthians 6:11; 12:13) but requires our cooperation through repentance and faith (Acts 2:38).

Jesus' final point is that the Gospel message will be a sign of contradiction in our world. Jesus asks,

Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth?
No, I tell you, but rather division.

Perhaps very surprising to some modern conceptions of Jesus, our Gospel says that Jesus has come to bring disunity or literally a word meaning “division into partisan and contentious units.” How can Jesus say this? Does he not come to bring us peace? It is not that God does not desire to bring us peace, but rather that only some will experience or receive the peace of Christ. Many will choose to reject the message and will not receive peace.

Earlier in Luke’s Gospel Jesus sends out the 72 disciples and instructs them, “Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace be to this house!’ And if a son of peace is there, your peace shall rest upon him; but if not, it shall return to you” (Luke 10:5–6). While the peace of Christ is available to all, many will reject it. It is our response to the Gospel that determines our peace.

The Jesus we see in the Gospels is not content to leave us to our own ideas, he challenges us. In his first words of public ministry he proclaims, “Repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15), or “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (Matthew 4:17). In Luke’s Gospel Jesus demonstrates his teaching with authority and power. The call to follow him results in the earliest apostles leaving everything and following him (Luke 5:11). Jesus message literally turns their lives upside down.

In our modern world, many Christians seem to think the highest Gospel value is being nice and not giving offence. We might even call this preaching the Gospel of Nice. In the name of cherished values such as accepting others and not being judgmental, we have made our highest modern value to not give offence. We should not risk challenging anyone to live differently that they desire to live following their unhampered freedom to do their own thing. We don't want to say anything that might cause someone else to be offended. Giving offence or triggering someone is a kind of new cardinal sin.

In such a world it is difficult to disagree with anyone or to have a civil conversation about differences without being cancelled as an antediluvian barbarian. There seems to be a great lack in the ability to engage in emotional regulation, to show empathy, to seek to understand. Instead, we angrily burn the bridges and cancel the other person in a flurry of name-calling.

How can we imitate Jesus in such a world?

Yes, we are to be loving, and gentle with our neighbor (Matthew 5:16, 1 Peter 3:15-16), no, we should not treat others in judgmental contempt (Matthew 7:1), but a faithful proclamation of the Gospel is a sign of contradiction which often results in rejection and suffering. Many times, it even results in martyrdom.

In this very Gospel Jesus warns us that we must put our faith above our allegiance to family and friends and be willing to be despised and rejected, just as Jesus was. Of course, not by being a meanspirited self-righteous religious person!

Yet, lovingly proclaiming the truth of the Gospel will often require each one of us to "take up his cross" and follow him (Luke 10:23). While Christ has come to offer each one of us personal peace, he has not promised “peace of earth,” but division. Jesus is a sign of contradiction in this world.

Share |