Instruction of St. Robert Bellarmine: The mysterious wisdom of divine government

 

Instruction of St. Robert Bellarmine: The mysterious wisdom of divine government

 

The depth of divine wisdom shines in the providence, predestination and judgements of God. First it is admirable, because it governs all created things without any intermediary, and so directs them to their end. He that made great and little alike, cares alike for all, says scripture. There is no exception: not a sparrow falls to the ground without the permission of God, as the Savior says. And it is not only actual beings which are each individually the object of the care of God's Providence, but bold is her sweep from world's end to world's end, and everywhere her gracious ordering manifests itself. If God is the King of all ages, it is because he, Creator of time, has established from all eternity the succession of kingdoms, the alternation and diversity of epochs. Nothing can be to God a novelty, a surprise, something unthought of. So hesitating our human thoughts, so hazardous our conjectures, the Wise man says, since the future deceives all our conjectures; but God sees the future as certainly as the past and present and therefore is infallible in the decrees of his Providence, as our holy Mother, the Church, does not hesitate to chant solemnly.  But the order of this Providence is the most hidden thing in the world and his judgements are like the deep sea, from which it comes to pass that some, seeing evil so common among men and so often going unpunished, fall headlong into the ruinous mistake of believing either that human affairs are not governed by God, or that God wills the evil; a twofold blasphemy. Men are misled into this error by their seeing only one part of the plan of God, the other part being inaccessible; whereas they ought to wait for the result of all history and the general manifestation which will be made at the last Judgement ; they judge rashly too and this leads them to fall into great errors.

 

However, unfathomable as may be the divine secrets as to the temporal lot of man, far deeper still are the reasons for man's predestination and eternal reprobation. For why God fills many of the wicked with temporal goods and leaves their sins unpunished in this life; why on the contrary he allows many innocent people to be in want, unjustly troubled, sorely tried and given over to death, we cannot search out in detail, but it is possible to assign with probability some general cause. When God gives the wicked temporal  goods in abundance, he rewards them for what they have done well,  though he will not give them a reward in eternity, or else he seeks, by means of temporal benefits, to convert them by the hope of eternal blessings; and if he does not punish their sins it is because they will be amply punished in hell. As for the just, he uses poverty, shame and trials to purify them, or to render their crowns more glorious which they will receive in heaven for their patience and their humility, and all their merits.

 

But why God loved Jacob and hated Esau2 before they had done either good or evil, who can tell? Who can fathom this mystery? Who will not remain astonished before a man who, after long perseverance in good works and at the end of life, failed and perished like Judas, while an evil-doer, not less persevering in evil, was converted just before he died and stole Paradise, like the good thief? Who can explain why God takes some to himself suddenly, like Enoch, whom he wishes to keep from evil, while he lets so many others fall into sin and die therein?

 

All that we are allowed to know is that with God there is no trace of injustice and at the last day there will not be found anyone who cannot make his own these words of the Psalmist: Thou art just, O Lord, and just is thy judgement. Moreover, this secrecy is profitable to us all, for it hinders both the wicked from despairing of salvation and the just from presuming on it, thinking themselves secure; also good men should not be hopeless about the conversion of the impenitent, but pray for all, carefully seeking the salvation of all men; and again, in his ignorance of the morrow, no one can presume on his strength, however perfect, however holy he may be, but all are led to work out their salvation in fear and trembling.

The Canterbury Hymnal: Hymn for Vespers in Lent

 

The Canterbury Hymnal: Hymn for Vespers in Lent

 

Vespers, first and second Sundays in Lent: Gernot B. Wieland, The Canterbury Hymnal

 

YMNUS AD VESPERAM

             

SIC TER QUATERNIS TRAHITUR

horis dies ad vesperum,

occasum sol pronuntians

noctis redire tempora.

 

nos ergo signo domini

tutemus claustra pectorum,

ne serpens ille callidus

intrandi temptet aditum

 

sed armis pudicitie

mens fulta vigil libere

sobrietare comite

hostem repellat inprobum.

 

sed nec ciborum crapula

tandem distentet corpora,

ne vi per sompnum animam

glorificatam pulluat.

 

Gloria tibi, trinitas

 

Thus, in three times four hours day is dragged into evening, the sun announces its setting, the time of night returns. Therefore, let us guard the enclosure of the hearts with the sign of the Lord lest that crafty serpent should try to enter. But let the vigilant mind freely depend on the weapons of modesty and with its companion, sobriety, repel the wicked enemy.  But may the drunkenness of food not bloat our bodies lest by force it should pollute the glory-filled soul. 

 

Guigo II the Carthusian: The Ladder of Monks

 

The indescribable sweetness of the blessed life, is sought through reading, found in meditation, asked for in prayer and savored in contemplation. This is precisely what the Lord says: Search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you" (Mt 7:7). Seek by reading, and you will find by meditating. Knock by praying, and you will enter by contemplating. I would like to say that reading brings the substantial food to the mouth; meditation grinds and chews it; prayer tastes it, and contemplation is the sweetness itself that delights and restores. Reading keeps to the rind, meditation enters into the marrow, prayer expresses the desire, but contemplation takes pleasure in savoring the sweetness obtained.

St. Thomas Aquinas: CHRIST HAD TO BE TEMPTED IN THE DESERT

 

St. Thomas Aquinas: CHRIST HAD TO BE TEMPTED IN THE DESERT He was in the desert forty days and forty nights : and was tempted by Satan. Mark i. 13.

 

 It was by Christ’s own will that he was exposed to the temptation by the devil, as it was also by his own will that he was exposed to be slain by the limbs of the devil. Had He not so willed, the devil would never have dared to approach him.

 

The devil is always more disposed to attack those who are alone, because, as is said in Sacred Scripture, If a man shall prevail against one, two shall withstand him easily (Eccles. iv. 12). That is why Christ went out into the desert, as one going out to a battle-ground, that there he might be tempted by the devil. Whereupon St. Ambrose says that Christ went into the desert for the express purpose of provoking the devil. For unless the devil had fought, Christ would never have overcome him for me.

 

St. Ambrose gives other reasons too. He says that Christ chose the desert as the place to be tempted for a hidden reason, namely that he might free from his exile Adam who, from Paradise, was driven into the desert; and again, that he did it for a reason in which there is no mystery, namely to show us that the devil envies those who are tending towards a better life.

 

We say with St. Chrysostom that Christ exposed himself to the temptation because the devil most of all tempts those whom he sees alone. So, in the very beginning of things he tempted the woman, when he found her away from her husband. It does not however follow from this that a man ought to throw himself into any occasion of temptation that presents itself. Occasions of temptation are of two kinds. One kind arises from man s own action, when, for example, man himself goes near to sin, not avoiding the occasion of sin. That such occasions are to be avoided we know, and Holy Scripture reminds us of it. Stay not in any part of the country round about Sodom (Gen. xix. 17). The second kind of occasion arises from the devil’s constant envy of those who are tending to better things, as St. Ambrose says, and this occasion of temptation is not one we must avoid. So, according to St. John Chrysostom, not only Christ was led into the desert by the Holy Ghost, but all the children of God who possess the Holy Ghost are led in like manner. For God s children are never con tent to sit down with idle hands, but the Holy Ghost ever urges them to undertake for God some great work. And this, as far as the devil is concerned, is to go into the desert, for in the desert there is none of that wickedness which is the devil s delight. Every good work is as it were a desert to the eye of the world and of our flesh, for good works are contrary to the desire of the world and of our flesh.

 

To give the devil such an opportunity of temptation as this is not dangerous, for it is much more the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, who is the promoter of every perfect work, that prompts us than the working of the devil who hates them all.

Dom Hubert van Zeller: THE PRAYER OF PETITION (We Die Standing Up)

 

Dom Hubert van Zeller: THE PRAYER OF PETITION (We Die Standing Up)

 

It is very easy to become snobbish in prayer and look down upon asking God for things. St. Thomas gives the lie to this attitude of mind when he defines prayer as "an activity of the practical intellect chiefly consisting in petition". He is not talking here of contemplation, nor is there any discussion as to what is the highest form that prayer can take. He is merely saying that when you get down to it prayer is asking. And when you think of it—as when you think of most of St. Thomas's startling statements—it must be. Prayer is the human mind looking for something in the direction where it knows that something to be. Even if the soul is only exposing its miseries there is the implied cry for help. And this is asking. If it is expressing sorrow for sin there is the implied cry for pardon. Gratitude and praise are perhaps the most selfless forms of prayer, but even here we are asking God to listen.

 

Another form of snobbishness in prayer is shown in the idea that when asking for things we are necessarily displaying too much activity for the requirements of pure prayer. This is of course sheer rubbish. For one thing the activity of suffering, or delighting, or sneezing, doesn't interfere with pure prayer, so why should praying? For another thing, except in the case of certain supernatural states of prayer, activity of some sort is essential. Read again the definition of St. Thomas quoted above. The same saint, in another place, calls prayer "an activity of the virtue of religion". It is bustle, not activity, that militates against the serenity required for interior prayer, and then only the kind of bustle that is admitted in the will. If all operation were to cease there would be no response to the action of grace, there would be no expression of the virtue of religion. The very word "ex-pression" connotes a going out, a pro-pulsion towards something.

 

Not only is prayer an activity of religion but it is, because it regards God directly, the best act. It is higher than the act of charity towards one's neighbor because it is the expression of one's charity towards Cod. Consequently, any act performed prayerfully—whether related to one of the virtues or not—becomes an act of virtue. Recreations, undertakings, human relationships—not to mention the more obvious things like sufferings, misunderstandings, loneliness and doubt— acquire a sacred character under the cover of prayer. Caussade's illuminating phrase "the sacrament of the present moment" means precisely this. The human will directed towards God, recognizing its dependence upon Cod, intent upon performing all that the perfect service of God involves . . . this, although it be wordless, is the attitude of mind which we associate with perfect prayer. And who would say that petition was not compatible with such a disposition?

 

Unless the place of petition is allowed and even assured in all but the purely passive and extraordinary prayers there is the danger of divorcing prayer from life. The mistake is common enough of thinking that prayer is a thing apart, a sanctifying exercise to be tacked on to everyday existence but in no way related to the course and character of every happening. The function of prayer is not primarily to help in the ordering of our lives. Its primary function is to give glory to Cod. But the more it is part of our lives the better.

 

There is this also to be considered, that where other activities of religion may express one or other of its virtues, prayer —in its most generous form at any rate—expresses them all. To service, to justice, to penance there is in prayer the added and all blessed quality of love. Who ever heard of a love that was too proud to ask?

 

The saints? Did they ask for things from God? Certainly, they did, that is why people asked them for their prayers. That is why we ask them now to pray whenever we want anything. Ah, you will say, but that is different: they may have asked on behalf of others but surely it is unworthy to think of them as asking for what they themselves wanted. Not at all. They asked for what they wanted most, but then what they wanted most was not what we want most: they asked for Cod's will. They hungered for more and more and more of God.

 

And what is more, they got what they wanted. Following their lead and the Gospel injunction we can, in our prayer, do worse than "seek first the Kingdom of God", and we shall find that all these things which we ask for shall be added to us. All these things? Why not, if they are things which are to our soul's health?

 

"Ask of the gods," says Socrates, "only for good things." This is sound enough as far as it goes. Christ goes farther than Socrates. "Ask for anything in my name," says Christ, "and it shall be given to you." Anything. But particularly for the Father's will. Anyway ask.

All Souls: Commemoration of the Faithful Departed: Customary of Our Lady of Walsingham

 

All Souls: Commemoration of the Faithful Departed: Customary of Our Lady of Walsingham

 

A reading from Saint Thomas More, The Supplication of Souls

 

Consider you our pains, and pity them in your hearts, and help us with pilgrimages, and other alms deeds: and of all things in special procure us the suffrages and blessed oblation of the Holy Mass, whereof no man living so well can tell the fruit, as we that here feel it. The comfort that we have here, except our continual hope in Our Lord God, comes at season from Our Lady, with such glorious saints, as either ourselves with our own devotion while we lived or ye with yours for us since our decease and departing have made intercessors for us.

 

And among other right especially be we beholden to the blessed spirits our own proper good angels, whom, when we behold coming with comfort to us, albeit that we take great pleasure and greatly rejoice therein, yet is it not without much confusion and shame fastness, to consider how little we regarded our good angels, and how seldom we thought upon them while we lived. They carry up our prayers to God and good saints for us, and they bring down from them the comfort and consolation to us with which, when they come and comfort us, only we and God know the joy it is to our hearts and how heartily we pray for you. And therefore, if God accept the prayer after his own favor borne towards him that prays, and the affection that he prays With, our prayer must needs be profitable, for we stand sure of his grace. And our prayer for you is so fervent, that ye can nowhere find any such affection on earth.

And therefore since we lie sore in pains and have in our great necessity so great need of your help, and that ye may so well do it whereby shall also rebound upon yourself an inestimable profit: let never any slothful oblivion raze us out of your remembrance, Of malicious enemy of ours cause you to be careless of us, or any greedy mind upon your good withdraw your gracious alms from us. Think how soon ye shall come hither to us; think what great grief and rebuke would then your unkindness be to you, what comfort on the contrary part when all we shall thank you, what help ye shall have here of your good sent hither.

 

Remember what kin ye and we be together, what familiar friendship has ere this been between us, what sweet words ye have spoken and what promise ye have made us. Let now your words appear and your fair promise be kept. Now, dear friends, remember how nature and Christendom binds you to remember us. If any point of your old favor, any piece of your old love, any kindness of kindred, any care of acquaintance, any favor of old friendship, any spark of charity, any tender point of pity, any regard of charity, any respect Of Christendom, be left in your breasts: let never the malice of a few fond fellows, a few pestilent persons borne towards priesthood, religion, and your Christian Faith raze out of your heart the care of all your kindred, all force of your old friends, and all remembrance of all Christian souls.

 

Remember our thirst while ye sit and drink, our hunger while ye be feasting, our restless watch while ye be sleeping, our sore and grievous pain while ye be playing, our hot burning fire while ye be in pleasure and sporting. So must God make your offspring after remember you: so God keep you hence, or not long here, but bring you shortly to that bliss, to which for Our Lord's love help you to bring us, and we shall set hand to help you thither to us.

St. Peter Damian: “The Poetry of Asceticism” (Raby)

 

St. Peter Damian: “The Poetry of Asceticism” (Raby)

 

In the Liturgical Horarum there are ten hymns by Prudentius, nine by St. Peter Damian, and eight by St. Ambrose (Gabriel Diaz Patri in The Genius of the Roman Rite p. 80), which makes the 11^th Century Camoldolese hermit one of the major traditional contributors to the hymnody of the reformed office. To the extent that the Liturgy of the Hours represents a lessening of the burden of the Office on the clergy St. Peter Damian would have little sympathy with the project. He was not one to lessen burdens but rather to increase them.  Hellen Waddell writes that like Calvin Peter could be called “The Accusative Case” (The Wandering Scholars p. 94). St. Peter was oppressed by "the terror of Judgement…             the flames of the last day seemed to be already kindled against a world of sinners…        He lived in a world of phantasms, where the natural order did not exist, where the devil went forth as a raging lion, and the wickedness of men was ripe for judgment” (Raby) Of course it is the quality of his poetry which earned Peter his place in Liturgica Horarum, not his invective. But how do we get this strange combination of elegant charm and opprobrium? A hideous childhood and a first rate education! In From Judgment to Passion Rachel Fulton (like Miss Waddell another Presbyterian medievalist) explains:

 

“The certainty of doom and the need to answer for one's sinfulness hung over Peter from the very moment of his birth, or so at least he (apparently) recalled in later life in conversations with his close friend, devoted disciple and fellow  hermit John of Lodi .  This is Peter's story as John tells it in the Vita that he wrote of his saintly master soon after his death. At his birth, one of Peter's brothers had berated his mother, "For shame! Look, there are already so many of us that the house is scarcely able to hold us, and see, how badly matched are the crowd of heirs and the straitened inheritance!" This outburst so enraged Peter's mother that, "inflamed by a fit of feminine malice" (possibly a post-partum depression, possibly a determined attempt at infanticide), she refused to feed the infant and, wringing her hands, declared herself unfit to live. Thus disinherited from the maternal breast that was then his only possession, the baby was on the verge of wasting away with hunger and cold, when one of the serving women (ironically, given Peter’s later career, the wife of a priest) intervened and rebuking his mother for risking her soul with the sin of infanticide, coaxed her into caring for him by nursing the baby herself. Thereafter, Peter's mother, restored to her maternal self, cared for the child lovingly, until her own death and that of his father left Peter at the mercy of his siblings.

 

Orphaned almost as soon as he was weaned, Peter was grudgingly raised by one his brothers (apparently the same one who had been so angered by his birth) and that brother's wife, who fed him with slops, clothed him with rags, kicked him and beat him, and eventually turned him out as a swineherd to live with the pigs. Peter’s  foster parents likewise seem to have raised him with the story of his unfortunate birth, thus reinforcing the sense of unworthiness and debt with which he would remember his childhood, He was rescued from this life of involuntary austerity at age twelve when he was placed in the care of another of his brothers, who lavished upon him such affection "that it seemed to exceed a father's”.  This brother provided generously for his education in the best schools of the day, thus launching Peter on a promising secular career as a master of rhetoric. owing to the excellence of his teaching, Peter soon attracted many students and earned from their fees an abundance of money.  And yet he could not, it seems, shake the conviction that he was unworthy of the life of elegance and comfort that he now enjoyed, nor the certainty that judgment was near.”

 

It should go without saying that Dr. Fulton did not intend that any of this should reduce the sanctity of St. Peter Damian to childhood trauma. It is just another example of the Holy Spirit’s action: gratia non tollit naturam sed perficit.