From a letter written in prison by Saint Thomas More to his daughter Margaret
With good hope I shall commit myself wholly to God
Although I know well, Margaret, that because of my past wickedness I deserve to be abandoned by God, I cannot but trust in his merciful goodness. His grace has strengthened me until now and made me content to lose goods, land, and life as well, rather than to swear against my conscience. God’s grace has given the king a gracious frame of mind towards me, so that as yet he has taken from me nothing but my liberty. In doing this His Majesty has done me such great good with respect to spiritual profit that I trust that among all the great benefits he has heaped so abundantly upon me I count my imprisonment the very greatest. I cannot, therefore, mistrust the grace of God. Either he shall keep the king in that gracious frame of mind to continue to do me no harm, or else, if it be his pleasure that for my other sins I suffer in this case as I shall not deserve, then his grace shall give me the strength to bear it patiently, and perhaps even gladly.
By the merits of his bitter passion joined to mine and far surpassing in merit for me all that I can suffer myself, his bounteous goodness shall release me from the pains of purgatory and shall increase my reward in heaven besides.
I will not mistrust him, Meg, though I shall feel myself weakening and on the verge of being overcome with fear. I shall remember how Saint Peter at a blast of wind began to sink because of his lack of faith, and I shall do as he did: call upon Christ and pray to him for help. And then I trust he shall place his holy hand on me and in the stormy seas hold me up from drowning.
And if he permits me to play Saint Peter further and to fall to the ground and to swear and forswear, may God our Lord in his tender mercy keep me from this, and let me lose if it so happen, and never win thereby! Still, if this should happen, afterwards I trust that in his goodness he will look on me with pity as he did upon Saint Peter, and make me stand up again and confess the truth of my conscience afresh and endure here the shame and harm of my own fault.
And finally, Margaret, I know this well: that without my fault he will not let me be lost. I shall, therefore, with good hope commit myself wholly to him. And if he permits me to perish for my faults, then I shall serve as praise for his justice. But in good faith, Meg, I trust that his tender pity shall keep my poor soul safe and make me commend his mercy.
And, therefore, my own good daughter, do not let your mind be troubled over anything that shall happen to me in this world. Nothing can come but what God wills. And I am very sure that whatever that be, however bad it may seem, it shall indeed be the best.
From the Ecclesiastical History of St Bede the Venerable
No greater love than this
Saint Alban, ‘born in fertile Britain’s land’, suffered during the reign of Diocletian and Herculian. Whilst still a pagan, he gave shelter to a Christian priest who was fleeing from his persecutors. When Alban saw the holy man spending all his time in prayer and vigils, he was suddenly touched by the grace of God. He was moved to follow the priest’s example, and began to emulate his faith and devotion. In the course of time he thoroughly imbibed the priest’s salutary teaching, renounced the darkness of idolatry and wholeheartedly professed the Christian faith. Soon, however, word got out that Alban was sheltering a Christian, and when the soldiers arrived to search the house, Alban dressed himself in the priest’s clothes and gave himself up in the place of his guest and teacher.
The judge was incensed that Alban should have surrendered himself in place of his guest; and when he refused to offer sacrifice to idols, ordered him to be scourged, in the hope that he could shake his constancy by torture. But Alban bore all his severe torments with joyful patience for Christ’s sake. When the judge saw that no torture could break him or induce him to repudiate his faith in Christ, he ordered him to be beheaded.
Saint Alban suffered on the twenty-second day of June near the city of Verulamium. When the peace of Christian times was restored, a beautiful church worthy of his martyrdom was built.
In the same persecution Julius and Aaron suffered, citizens of the city of Legions, and many others of both sexes throughout the land.
From the Sermons of St. Bernard, Abbot of
Clairvaux.
Second Homily on Luke i. 26
It is said: And the virgin's name was Mary. Let us
speak a few words upon this name, which signified, being interpreted, Star of
the Sea, and suited very well the Maiden Mother, who may very meetly be
likened unto a star. A star giveth forth her rays without any harm to herself,
and the Virgin brought forth her Son without any hurt to her virginity. The
light of a star taketh nothing away from the star itself, and the birth of her
offspring took nothing away from the Virginity of Mary.
She is that noble star which was to come out of
Jacob, Num. xxiv. 17, whose brightness still sheds luster upon all the
earth, whose rays are most brilliant in heaven, and shine even unto hell,
lighting up earth midway, and warming souls rather than bodies, fostering good
and scaring away evil. She, I say, is a clear and shining star, twinkling with
excellencies, and resplendent with example, needfully set to look down upon the
surface of this great and wide sea.
Thou, whosoever thou art, that knowest thyself to
be here not so much walking upon firm ground, as battered to and fro by the
gales and storms of this life's ocean, if thou would not be overwhelmed by
the tempest, keep thine eyes fixed upon this star's clear shining. If the
hurricanes of temptation rise against thee, or thou art running upon the rocks
of trouble, look to the star, call on Mary. If the waves of pride, or ambition,
or slander, or envy toss thee, look to the star, call on Mary. If the billows
of anger or avarice, or the enticements of the flesh beat against thy soul's
bark, look to Mary. If the enormity of thy sins trouble thee, if the foulness
of thy conscience confound thee, if the dread of judgment appall thee, if thou
begin to slip into the deep of despondency, into the pit of despair, think of
Mary.
In danger, in difficulty, or in doubt, think on
Mary, call on Mary. Let her not be away from thy mouth or from thine heart, and
that thou mayest not lack the succor of her prayers, turn not aside from the
example of her conversation. If thou follow her, thou wilt never go astray. If
thou pray to her, thou wilt never have need to despair. If thou keep her in
mind, thou wilt never wander. If she hold thee, thou wilt never fall. If she
lead thee, thou wilt never be weary. If she help thee, thou wilt reach home
safe at the last and so thou wilt prove in thyself how meetly it is said And
the virgin's name was Mary.
Basil, a Cappadocian nobleman, studied profane letters at Athens together with his close friend, Gregory of Nazianzus, and took his sacred studies in a monastery. Becoming marvelously proficient in both, he soon attained such excellence in learning and in his way of life that from then on he was given the name of The Great. Summoned to preach the Gospel of Christ Jesus in Pontus, he called that province back to the way of salvation. Soon he was asked by Eusebius, Bishop of Caesarea, to aid him in teaching; and he succeeded Eusebius as bishop. Basil was among the first to defend the consubstantiality of the Son with the Father; and by his miracles he caused Emperor Valens, who was angry with him and threatening him with exile, to give up any such intentions. Basil's abstinence and continence were marveled at; and he was constant in prayer, often spending the whole night in it. He built monasteries, ordering the monastic life so that it would best combine the advantages of the solitary life with those of the active life. He wrote many learned books; and, as Gregory of Nazianzus testified, no one hath explained the books of Holy Scripture more truly and fruitfully. He died on the 1st day of January.
The man who is filled with the Holy Spirit speaks in different languages. These different languages are different ways of witnessing to Christ, such as humility, poverty, patience and obedience; we speak in those languages when we reveal in ourselves these virtues to others. Actions speak louder than words; let your words teach and your actions speak. We are full of words but empty of actions, and therefore are cursed by the Lord, since he himself cursed the fig tree when he found no fruit but only leaves. Gregory says: “A law is laid upon the preacher to practice what he preaches.” It is useless for a man to flaunt his knowledge of the law if he undermines its teaching by his actions.
But the apostles spoke as the Spirit gave them the gift of speech. Happy the man whose words issue from the Holy Spirit and not from himself! For some men speak as their own character dictates, but steal the words of others and present them as their own and claim the credit for them. The Lord refers to such men and others like them in Jeremiah: So, then, I have a quarrel with the prophets that steal my words from each other. I have a quarrel with the prophets, says the Lord, who have only to move their tongues to utter oracles. I have a quarrel with the prophets who make prophecies out of lying dreams, who recount them and lead my people astray with their lies and their pretensions. I certainly never sent them or commissioned them, and they serve no good purpose for this people, says the Lord.
We should speak, then, as the Holy Spirit gives us the gift of speech. Our humble and sincere request to the Spirit for ourselves should be that we may bring the day of Pentecost to fulfilment, insofar as he infuses us with his grace, by using our bodily senses in a perfect manner and by keeping the commandments. Likewise we shall request that we may be filled with a keen sense of sorrow and with fiery tongues for confessing the faith, so that our deserved reward may be to stand in the blazing splendor of the saints and to look upon the triune God.
From
the Horologium Sapientiae of Blessed Henry Suso.
Consider now, all you hearts, who love God with a
pure mind. For something similar happens to us when the fruitful Virgin clothed
with sun, the chosen Queen of heaven, enters like the sun into the confines of our
hearts and the memory of her penetrates our minds more brightly than the sun
penetrates a cloudless sky. Immediately every difficulty vanishes before the
intensity of such a light. Darkness is put to flight, a new dawn arises, and
innumerable reasons for rejoicing are provided. Therefore, to you, O our hope,
the joy and happiness of our hearts, we wretched sinners break forth in a shout
of greeting. We salute you most affectionately from the bottom of our hearts
with sighs and tears and with sighs and tears and the devout genuflection of
our hearts, O mother of grace. The children shout for joy at the sound of the
pipes and every heart is gladdened by those happy shoes And so at the most
sweet remembrance of you I am all on fire with fervor of divine love, desiring
to praise you whom the world and its fullness, the heaven of heavens and every
power within them praise.
Indeed, the goodness of every creature compared to
your dignity is the weak glow of the moon compared to the immense brilliance of
the sun. For the divine wisdom so excellently adorned you with grace and so
abundantly clothed you with goodness that this incomprehensible wisdom
reflected in you becomes more desirable to us through your splendor.
O precious treasury for us wretched ones! Behold,
when through our sin we lost the supreme king, when we offended the angels,
when we are burdensome to ourselves and know nothing at all about what we ought
to do, then this recourse alone remains for us wretches. We should raise eyes
of our heart and of our body to you, seeking counsel and begging, O exultation
of my heart, singular hope and joy of my life, you know often with bitter soul,
troubled heart, and tearful face I have raised my to you, most holy Virgin,
when I have offended God and considered myself destined for hell, when I have
been besieged on all sides by enemies. And with your help, blessed Virgin, I
have escaped all dangers, Some rejoice over their innocence, others over the
abundance of their merits, others may exult in the speedily-given mercy of God,
You, my mother. are the hope and the only solace of my life! When I totally
despair of God and of myself, by thinking of you, by remembering you, my spirit
revives as of the deepest darkness. You are my glory, my salvation, my honor, and
my life.
From St Ignatius of Antioch's letter to the Romans
Let me not only be called a Christian, but prove to be one
You have never begrudged the martyrs their triumph but rather trained them for it. And so I am asking you to be consistent with the lessons you teach them. Just beg for me the courage and endurance not only to speak but also to will what is right, so that I may not only be called a Christian, but prove to be one. For if I prove myself to be a Christian by martyrdom, then people will call me one, and my loyalty to Christ will be apparent when the world sees me no more. Nothing you can see is truly good. For our Lord Jesus Christ, now that he has returned to his Father, has revealed himself more clearly. Our task is not one of producing persuasive propaganda; Christianity shows its greatness when it is hated by the world.
I am writing to all the churches to declare to them all that I am glad to die for God, provided you do not hinder me. I beg you not to show me a misplaced kindness. Let me be the food of beasts that I may come to God. I am his wheat, and I shall be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may become Christ’s pure bread.
I would rather that you coaxed the beasts to become my tomb and to leave no scrap of me behind; then when I have died I will be a burden to no one. I shall be a true disciple of Christ when the world no longer sees my body. Pray to Christ for me that by these means I may become a sacrifice to God. I do not give you orders like Peter and Paul. They were apostles, I am a condemned criminal; they were free, I am still a slave. But if I suffer, I shall become the freedman of Jesus Christ and I shall rise again to freedom in him.
Now as a prisoner I am learning to give up my own wishes. All the way from Syria to Rome I am fighting wild beasts, by land and by sea, by day and by night, chained as I am to ten leopards, I mean the detachment of soldiers who guard me; the better you treat them, the worse they become. I am more and more trained in discipleship by their ill usage of me, but I am not therefore justified. How happy I will be with the beasts which are prepared for me! I hope that they will make short work of me. I shall even coax them to devour me quickly and not to be afraid of touching me, as sometimes happens; in fact, if they hold back, I shall force them to it. Bear with me, for I know what is good for me. Now I am beginning to be a disciple. May nothing visible or invisible rob me of my prize, which is Jesus Christ! The fire, the cross, packs of wild beasts, lacerations, rendings, wrenching of bones, mangling of limbs, crushing of the whole body, the horrible tortures of the devil – let all these things come upon me, if only I may gain Jesus Christ!
In her voyage across the ocean of this world, the Church is like a great ship being pounded by the waves of life’s different stresses. Our duty is not to abandon ship but to keep her on her course.
The ancient fathers showed us how we should carry out this duty: Clement, Cornelius and many others in the city of Rome, Cyprian at Carthage, Athanasius at Alexandria. They all lived under emperors who were pagans; they all steered Christ’s ship – or rather his most dear spouse, the Church. This they did by teaching and defending her, by their labours and sufferings, even to the shedding of blood.
I am terrified when I think of all this. Fear and trembling came upon me and the darkness of my sins almost covered me. I would gladly give up the task of guiding the Church which I have accepted if I could find such an action warranted by the example of the fathers or by holy Scripture.
Since this is the case, and since the truth can be assaulted but never defeated or falsified, with our tired mind let us turn to the words of Solomon: Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not rely on your own prudence. Think on him in all your ways, and he will guide your steps. In another place he says: The name of the Lord is an impregnable tower. The just man seeks refuge in it and he will be saved.
Let us stand fast in what is right and prepare our souls for trial. Let us wait upon God’s strengthening aid and say to him: O Lord, you have been our refuge in all generations.
Let us trust in him who has placed this burden upon us. What we ourselves cannot bear let us bear with the help of Christ. For he is all-powerful and he tells us: My yoke is easy and my burden is light.
Let us continue the fight on the day of the Lord. The days of anguish and of tribulation have overtaken us; if God so wills, let us die for the holy laws of our fathers, so that we may deserve to obtain an eternal inheritance with them.
Let us be neither dogs that do not bark nor silent onlookers nor paid servants who run away before the wolf. Instead let us be careful shepherds watching over Christ’s flock. Let us preach the whole of God’s plan to the powerful and to the humble, to rich and to poor, to men of every rank and age, as far as God gives us the strength, in season and out of season, as Saint Gregory writes in his book of Pastoral Instruction.
This year marks the 300thanniversary of the birth of German philosopher Immanuel Kant. There’s no doubt the philosopher from Königsberg has been hugely influential (even if hugely wrong) in modern philosophy. It’s arguable that one reason contemporary German Catholic theology has the problems it does is its exaggerated effort to accommodate Kantian “insights.”
One of Kant’s “contributions” to modern philosophy was his demand for “disinterestedness” in ethics. According to Kant, ethics cannot incorporate personal considerations; their admixture contaminates ethics. Ethics must be grounded purely in principle, without personal consideration.
One does the good out of duty. That makes one’s ethics “autonomous” rather than “heteronomous.” To do something because it might in any way be personally beneficial is illegitimate and unethical.
Of course, ethics needs to stand on principles – on moral norms – and notjuston personal considerations. In opposing the reduction of ethics to personal benefit, Kant anticipated another cancerous ethic that would soon be born: the calculations of Bentham’s and Mills’ utilitarianism. Against their approach of morality-by-headcount (“the greatest benefit for the greatest number”) stands Kant’s categorical imperative: persons are always ends and never means.
But to say that morality is not constructedjuston personal considerations does not mean that the personal does not figure into morality. Like the Sabbath, morality is made for man, not the other way around. But a proper understanding of the person does not entail a subjective view of morality. Man, as an objective being in an objective moral world, flourishes by aligning with that moral order, not attempting (futilely) to subvert it.
As I havewritten previously here, Karol Wojtyła’s late 1950sElementarz etyczyny[Ethics Primer] addressed the real implications of philosophical issues for his times. One of the essays in theElementarz,“The Problem of Disinterestedness,” is a direct shot at Kant and his approach to ethics.
Kant’s disinterestedness doesn’t just eliminate “conflicts of interest” in ethics. It also eliminates traditional Judeo-Christian ethics.
It does so by impugning the idea of eschatological judgment. That God “will repay each man according to his deeds” (Romans 2:6) puts God at odds with Kant, because a Deity who judges – and, therefore, rewards or punishes – is a Deity who makes being morally good a personal benefit.
The Kantians claim that such a morality makes man “inauthentic” by giving him a personal interest in moral goodness. Man is good not because he values good but because the good benefits him in the afterlife.
Wojtyła rejected that analysis as simplistic. It’s simplistic becausethegood andman’sgood are ultimately in tandem, not opposition. It’s because God, who is the Source of all Good, is also man’s Greatest Good (Summum Bonum). For man to dothegood and to love – which means to want – Him asmygood are one and the same – andcannotbe separate.
It’s that insight that is lost on modern man. In the process of losing it, there creeps in the temptation of a human “autonomy” that allows man to definehisgood independently ofthegood, and thus splits the two. “What God has joined man together must not be put asunder.”
Flowing from this insight also arises another contemporary conceit: that religion somehow “alienates” man from himself. According to that vision, the degree to which man is religious and the degree to which man is genuinely human stand in inverse, not direct ratio: the more we are religious, the less we are human. It is a rejection of Irenaeus’s truth that “the glory of God is man fully alive,” alleging instead that human living requires the death of God.
Religious teaching may supplement and better illumine rational ethical analysis, but faith – while going beyond – is never opposed to reason. That a believer may have additional reasons for doing good does not negate the rational reasons for doing good.
Kant’s desiccated “rationalism” in ethics is arguably a cousin to our current “proceduralist” obsessions, which imagine what is ethical is what is concluded after following the “rules,” without necessarily saying anything about the result those “rules” supposedly produce. It produces the “ethics” that applauds procedures yielding incompatible and irreconcilable conclusions. It’s no accident the father of contemporary American proceduralism – John Rawls – was a Kantian.
Against Kant’s disinterestedness, let’s consider an insight not just from theology but the basic Catholic catechism. One of the essential elements of a valid Confession is contrition, the supernaturally motivated sorrow for sin that makes one renounce the evil one has done.
But what supernatural motivations can fuel that sorrow for sin? The Church has always taught that there are two: contrition and attrition. Contrition is sorrow for sin motivated by the pure love of God. Attrition is sorrow for sin driven to some degree by self-love: I am not so much concerned about having offended God as being liable to punishment, even damnation.
Contrition (AKA “perfect contrition”) in itself is sufficient for the remission of sins (even though, in the normal course of events, it presupposes recourse to the sacrament of Reconciliation). Attrition in itself does not, but in conjunction with the sacrament of Penance, suffices. So, in conjunction with Jesus’s Sacrifice, our personal interestedness in our salvation leads to the forgiveness of sins. In other words, with attrition Confession corrects Kant, at least when it comes to man’s ethical interest.
Starting from different grounds in terms of who is man and what he can know, Kant would, of course, reject this analysis. On the other hand, realistic Christian philosophy would reject numerous Kantian presuppositions and, measuring them against that realism, find them wanting. Which leads us back to a basic insight where Catholic and contemporary thought part ways: whether or not thegood and mygood are, can, and should be different.
The African martyrs add another page to the martyrology – the Church’s roll of honor – an occasion both of mourning and of joy. This is a page worthy in every way to be added to the annals of that Africa of earlier times which we, living in this era and being men of little faith, never expected to be repeated.
In earlier times there occurred those famous deeds, so moving to the spirit, of the martyrs of Scilli, of Carthage, and of that “white robed army” of Utica commemorated by Saint Augustine and Prudentius; of the martyrs of Egypt so highly praised by Saint John Chrysostom, and of the martyrs of the Vandal persecution. Who would have thought that in our days we should have witnessed events as heroic and glorious?
Who could have predicted that to the famous African confessors and martyrs such as Cyprian, Felicity, Perpetua and – the greatest of all – Augustine, we would one day add names so dear to us as Charles Lwanga and Matthias Mulumba Kalemba and their 20 companions? Nor must we forget those members of the Anglican Church who also died for the name of Christ.
These African martyrs herald the dawn of a new age. If only the mind of man might be directed not towards persecutions and religious conflicts but towards a rebirth of Christianity and civilization!
Africa has been washed by the blood of these latest martyrs, the first of this new age (and, God willing, let them be the last, although such a holocaust is precious indeed). Africa is reborn free and independent.
The infamous crime by which these young men were put to death was so unspeakable and so expressive of the times. It shows us clearly that a new people needs a moral foundation, needs new spiritual customs firmly planted, to be handed down to posterity. Symbolically, this crime also reveals that a simple and rough way of life – enriched by many fine human qualities yet enslaved by its own weakness and corruption – must give way to a more civilized life wherein the higher expressions of the mind and better social conditions prevail.
"On the feast of Corpus Christi", by St Thomas Aquinas
O precious and wonderful banquet!
Since it was the will of God’s only-begotten Son that men should share in his divinity, he assumed our nature in order that by becoming man he might make men gods. Moreover, when he took our flesh he dedicated the whole of its substance to our salvation. He offered his body to God the Father on the altar of the cross as a sacrifice for our reconciliation. He shed his blood for our ransom and purification, so that we might be redeemed from our wretched state of bondage and cleansed from all sin. But to ensure that the memory of so great a gift would abide with us for ever, he left his body as food and his blood as drink for the faithful to consume in the form of bread and wine.
O precious and wonderful banquet, that brings us salvation and contains all sweetness! Could anything be of more intrinsic value? Under the old law it was the flesh of calves and goats that was offered, but here Christ himself, the true God, is set before us as our food. What could be more wonderful than this? No other sacrament has greater healing power; through it sins are purged away, virtues are increased, and the soul is enriched with an abundance of every spiritual gift. It is offered in the Church for the living and the dead, so that what was instituted for the salvation of all may be for the benefit of all. Yet, in the end, no one can fully express the sweetness of this sacrament, in which spiritual delight is tasted at its very source, and in which we renew the memory of that surpassing love for us which Christ revealed in his passion.
It was to impress the vastness of this love more firmly upon the hearts of the faithful that our Lord instituted this sacrament at the Last Supper. As he was on the point of leaving the world to go to the Father, after celebrating the Passover with his disciples, he left it as a perpetual memorial of his passion. It was the fulfilment of ancient figures and the greatest of all his miracles, while for those who were to experience the sorrow of his departure, it was destined to be a unique and abiding consolation.
