Spiritual Childhood

"... We must conclude then that the Divine Master was particularly anxious that His disciples should see in spiritual childhood the necessary condition for obtaining life eternal.
"Considering the insistence and the force of this teaching it would seem impossible to find a soul who would still neglect to follow the way of confidence and abandonment, all the more so, we repeat, since the divine words, not only in a general manner, but in express terms, declare the mode of life obligatory, even for those who have lost their first innocence.  Some prefer to believe that they way of confidence and abandonment is reserved solely for ingenuous souls whom evil has not deprived of the grace of childhood.  They do not conceive the possibility of spiritual childhood for those who have lost their first innocence.
…
"Any such thought as that of reassuming the appearance and helplessness of early years would be ridiculous; but it is not contrary to reason to find in the words of the Gospel the precept addressed alike to men of advanced years to return to the practice of spiritual childhood.  During the course of centuries, this teaching was to find increased support in the example of those who arrived at heroic Christian perfection precisely by the exercise of these virtues."~~Pope Benedict XV, quoted in Boylan, This Tremendous Lover, ch.17.

"Unless a man be born again …"

God's Ocean

At Mass yesterday, Monsignor quoted saying: “God’s ocean is so big, and our boat is so small.”  He called it as “a prayer,” which initially struck me as an odd description.  But in a way, it is precisely the sort of prayer of which the Old Testament, especially the psalms, are full.  Sometimes, of course, when we acknowledge God’s tremendousness, we do so as a preface to requesting something of Him: Grant us this or Spare us that.  But sometimes the prayer of God’s largeness is just that: an acknowledgement that He is big.  It is the sort of thing one must have well implanted in one’s psyche before one can appreciate the fact that He became small.

And of course, while the prayer of greatness may be a prelude to the prayer of petition, it works the other way around also.  A prayer of petition is, ultimately, only answerable by an exercise of God’s greatness, either in righting the situation about which heaven is stormed, or in resolving that situation into its place in the sea.  In either case, whether the petition is answered with a “yes” or the “no” which widens perspectives, the thanksgiving tends towards that acknowledgement of God’s tremendousness, the tremendousness that is so great that to voice it gratefully “is itself [His] gift” (Common Preface IV).

And the Lord answering Job out of the whirlwind, said: Gird up thy loins like a man … Behold behemoth whom I made with thee, he eateth grass like an ox.  His strength is in his loins, and his force in the navel of his belly. He setteth up his tail like a cedar, the sinews of his testicles are wrapped together. His bones are like pipes of brass, his gristle like plates of iron. He is the beginning of the ways of God, who made him, he will apply his sword. To him the mountains bring forth grass: there all the beasts of the field shall play. He sleepeth under the shadow, in the covert of the reed, and in moist places. The shades cover his shadow, the willows of the brook shall compass him about. Behold, he will drink up a river, and not wonder: and he trusteth that the Jordan may run into his mouth. In his eyes as with a hook he shall take him, and bore through his nostrils with stakes. Canst thou draw out the leviathan with a hook, or canst thou tie his tongue with a cord? Canst thou put a ring in his nose, or bore through his jaw with a buckle? Will he make many supplications to thee, or speak soft words to thee? Will he make a covenant with thee, and wilt thou take him to be a servant for ever? Shalt thou play with him as with a bird, or tie him up for thy handmaids? Shall friends cut him in pieces, shall merchants divide him? Wilt thou fill nets with his skin, and the cabins of fishes with his head? Lay thy hand upon him: remember the battle, and speak no more. Behold his hope shall fail him, and in the sight of all he shall be cast down. (Job, 40:1-2, 10-28)

Nature and Supernature

At Mass yesterday Father remarked that it is not the heart but the crucifix which is the real symbol of love.  A truism, perhaps, for a practicing Catholic, but one worth repeating to oneself from time to time.

I am working on a dissertation that deals—in a more direct fashion than I expected it would when I began—with the clash of medieval and Renaissance views of nature and society, or natural and human law.  The older medieval view was that nature and natural law were responsible for much of what was good in man; in the high Renaissance this view was sometimes warped into a Pelagian worship of man-as-natural being, in much the same way that post-Cartesians worshipped man-as-thinking-thing.  One of the many facets of the Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation was a reaction to this excessive Renaissance optimism.  Thus reformers of both stripes and secular Renaissance skeptics joined in emphasizing the insufficiency of human nature for salvation, and perhaps even for social and political life.  The later, Hobbesian view of a warlike state of man has real connection to the strong Calvinist notion of man as totally depraved.

Between their ideas and the Platonic-Aristotelian image of simple shepherds, devastated by the elements and bonding together to ensure survival for themselves and their families, gapes a wide gulf.  For the ancients and medievals nature was lively and dangerous, and human beings bonded together to find their natural place in it.  But beginning with the early modern era, nature became subject to the conquering techne of man, while human beings themselves became less and less worthy of trust and less and less natively inclined to order.

Who is right?  Both; neither; I’ll get back to you on that.  I have strong sympathies with the older view, of course; but … This much I will grant to the modern view.  On a day-to-day level, mere human virtue however advanced seems to be but rarely sufficient to deal with the trials and tribulations of ordinary life.

Too bad I wrote an undergraduate thesis arguing in the opposite direction!

But the older I become, the more convinced I am that sanctity is necessary not merely for entry into heaven, but also to live a tolerably happy life on earth.  At a certain point after being woken up for countless times in the middle of the night, nature is no longer sufficient; supernature becomes necessary.  The heart will always remain, but it can only beat on the blood of the cross.

"La Vie N'est Pas Juste"

In which Donna Camilla waxes poetical, and channels Dr. Seuss.

I Didn't Sign Up for This

I know, I know ... I posted yesterday and two days before that too.  But some weeks are like ... this one.

Descendit Incarnatus

Disclaimer: This is the second post of this sort (previous one here). Because of the nature of this post, and some of the reactions to the earlier post, I feel I should say that (1) this conversation is FICTIONAL; but also (2) I think (as with everything I write) there's some truth in it (otherwise I wouldn't post it). With that in mind—and if it is not to perilous to steal the phrase—duc in altum!

Knowing God's Will

I hate decisions. (If you really want to know how much I hate them, imagine that last sentence uttered with the spittle-spewing, rage-in-defeat-induced vigor of Mad Madam Mim.) Oh, how do I hate them? Let me count the ways . . .