Catholic Metanarrative

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Article: God's call

SERVANT OF GOD CATHERINE DOHERTY

The moment when you hear God's call is a moment of recognition.

Servant of God
Catherine Doherty
1896-1985

The moment when you hear God's call is a moment of recognition, a moment of receptivity and of deep openness. It is the moment when all we have to do is realize that we are creatures, and that it is God who calls us.

What is he calling us to? He is calling us to what each of us most deeply desires. He is calling us to a life that will bear fruit, for sterility is the most tragic thing that can happen to us. Remember the parable of the fig tree? God offers us fertility. He offers us a life of unimaginable fruitfulness ...

We crave greatness for our lives, and God asks us to become little. To pass through the door that leads to his kingdom, we must go down on our knees. Paradoxically, if we do so, we will find ourselves growing in stature, for "eye has not seen and ear has not heard what God has reserved for those who love
him."

This is a moment of choice. It is one of many such moments, for we will be called to choose every day of our lives until we die. But the fantastic thing about it is our freedom. We are utterly free to turn back from this power that draws us on. We are free to loose ourselves from the· bonds of a love that demands our total surrender. Nothing prevents us from saying no. Nothing except God's love.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Catherine Doherty, CM. "God's call." excerpt from Soul of My Soul Coming to the Heart of Prayer(Madonna House Publications, 2006).

Reprinted with permission of Madonna House Publications.

THE AUTHOR

Catherine Doherty (1896-1985) used her heritage as a Russian Christian as a matrix for responding to the needs of Christian life and work in the modern world. Her own personal pilgrimage led her to be "poor with the poor Christ" in the slums of Toronto and in Harlem; and later to the establishing of the world-wide Madonna House Apostolate. A dedicated wife and mother, Catherine was also a prolific writer of hundreds of articles, a best-selling author of dozens of books, a renowned national speaker, and a pioneer of social justice. Catherine Doherty's cause for canonization as a saint is now under consideration by the Catholic Church. Among her books are: Soul of My Soul Coming to the Heart of Prayer, Living The Gospel Without Compromise, An Experience of God Identification with Christ — a Road to the Mystical Life, and Catherine de Hueck Doherty: Essential Writing.

Copyright © 2011 Madonna House Publications

Article: 12-Step Pride-Elimination Plan

DONALD DEMARCO

Of all the seven deadly sins, it is the most subtle to diagnose, the most common, and the most difficult to eliminate.

Pride is the deadliest of the deadly sins.

It is unrealistic, unattractive and unprofitable. One would have to be rather foolish, it seems, to grant significant room in his life to pride. If the devil could laugh, and the angels could weep, they would do so over the way we human beings stubbornly cling to pride.

Yet, of all the seven deadly sins, it is the most subtle to diagnose, the most common, and the most difficult to eliminate.

We should note, however, that not all pride is deadly. There is a sense in which pride is fully justified. A parent has this good pride when his children attain some standard of excellence. Likewise, a coach can be proud of his players for comporting themselves with good sportsmanship.

Good pride conforms to a good standard; bad pride does not.

St. Thomas Aquinas referred to this latter kind of pride as the attempt to achieve a "perverse excellence." This form of pride, though it has many facets, is, basically, an inordinate desire for praise, honors and recognition. Because it is "inordinate," it is out of synchrony with who we really are as well as our proper place in the grand scheme of things. "In general," as John Ruskin has remarked, "pride is at the bottom of all great mistakes."


Pride as Unrealistic

Pride is unrealistic on a personal level. We are not the cause of our own being. We do not bestow upon ourselves whatever gifts we have. Our life is short, and our hour is fleeting. It is, as Shakespeare called it, a "brief candle." It is a mere moment in time, a veritable sliver wedged between two eternities. It makes far more sense that humble gratitude be our dominant characteristic rather than pride. One thing we can truly take credit for is our willingness to attain humble gratitude.

Pride is unrealistic on a historical level. The virtue of piety, one that has lost a great deal of its force and beauty in the present era, honors the historical factors that give us not only our life, but all the opportunities, conveniences, blessings and riches to which we are heir. Thus, we honor our parents and our ancestry as well as our tradition. Because we receive more than we can possibly give, an attitude of thanksgiving seems to be far more appropriate than the desire to seek praise.

Because it is "inordinate," it is out of synchrony with who we really are as well as our proper place in the grand scheme of things.

Pride is unrealistic on a social level. Each person is but one among the 7 billion souls who presently populate the world. Cooperation with others is the key to a well-ordered, peaceful and prosperous society. A multitude of prideful egos breeds calamity. The proud person is reluctant to yield to the views of others principally because he wants his own way to prevail. Pride unchecked is a recipe for social catastrophe. One ego getting its own way is possible; two competing egos getting their own way is not possible.

Pride is unrealistic on a theological level. We are creatures. Therefore, it is owing to the beneficence of our Creator that we came into existence. The fundamental distinction between Creator and creature is one that Adam and Eve, in their pride, failed to honor. Their original sin of pride, which caused their dismissal from paradise and has plagued their descendants ever since, is the consequence of this failure. The creature should not aspire to be more that he can become. This is the sin of presumption. The Creator is not proud for being the Creator. That is within his province. His creatures should honor both the reality of their Creator as well as their own.


Pride as Unattractive

Boastfulness is unattractive. "The proud hate pride – in others," Benjamin Franklin quipped in his Poor Richard's Almanac. The braggart, the show-off, is essentially boring. No one enjoys the spectacle of another person trying to create the impression that he is larger or more important that others know him to be. Boastfulness is a verbal manifestation of pride. Its essential weakness lies in the fact that actions speak louder than words, and people are far more impressed by good actions.

Pride is a mask that is used to conceal the real self that we have rejected. It is a form of despair,...

Ostentation is unattractive. A person, by flaunting his elaborate attire, affected manners or costly possessions, may try to convince others of his superiority. This strategy backfires when it provokes laughter or derision. Ostentation is fine for a peacock. Modesty is more appropriate for human beings. Ostentation sends the unwelcomed message "Look at me!" Unfortunately, people see more deeply than what is on the surface. The ostentatious person can make a very sad spectacle of himself.

Hypocrisy is unattractive. Hypocrisy is the attempt to make people think that you are better than you know yourself to be. It is a fairly universal vice and a left-handed way in which vice pays tribute to virtue. But it is shallow and dishonest. Therefore, it is essentially unattractive, as any other form of duplicity is unattractive. People prefer to witness the shining example of moral integrity. But that is something which they observe, not something that they are tricked into believing.

Self-absorption is unattractive. "Man is a social animal," as Aristotle rightly pointed out. We read in Genesis, "It is not good for man to be alone." Self-absorption is more than unrealistic. It conveys a certain contempt for all others. C.S. Lewis has noted, "A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you're looking down, you can't see something that's above you." The glaring fact that the self-absorbed person misses out on a great deal makes him out to be someone to be pitied, not praised.


Pride as Unprofitable

Pride is unprofitable because it is precipitous, which is to say that it brings about a fall. This time-honored and biblically rooted axiom can be easily illustrated. Hold a small object, such as a baseball, at arm's length, and then release it. To no one's astonishment, it falls to the floor. The reason that it falls is because nothing is supporting it. Because pride does not have a foundation in reality, it can do nothing other than fall. Hence, it is not only unprofitable, but actually counterproductive. "I charge thee: Fling away ambition," warned Shakespeare. "By that sin fell the angels" (Henry VIII, III: 2).

Pride is unprofitable because it is wasteful. Pride is a wasteful expenditure of time and energy. Working humbly in God's vineyard is far more productive (though it might not get headlines) than trying to convince others of an illusion. Catholic convert Malcolm Muggeridge titled his autobiography Chronicles of Wasted Timebecause he came to realize that a great deal of his life was misspent because it flowed from that pernicious species of pride known as selfish ambition.

The choice between Narcissus and Christ is, intellectually, not difficult to make. But on the practical level of our own lived lives, it requires all that we can muster.

Pride is unprofitable because it is self-rejecting. Pride is a mask that is used to conceal the real self that we have rejected. It is a form of despair, as the philosopher Soren Kierkegaard has described at length, because it installs an artificial self in the place of the real self. People speak of "swallowing one's pride." It is surely advisable to swallow one's pride in order to allow one's real self to emerge. We might add that no one has ever choked to death as a result of swallowing his pride.

Pride is unprofitable because it is cataclysmic, insofar as it sets a spark to the other six deadly sins. Because pride is unrealistic (more specifically, vain and presumptuous), the proud person will meet with opposition and, as a result, experience much frustration. This frustration inevitably leads to anger and envy toward others who have fared better. Such a person, in addition, may give up and seek the solace of sloth. Or he may try to ease the torment of his frustrations in lustful, gluttonous or avaricious ways. Pride can set in motion a cascade of sins.

The mythical Narcissus is the personification of deadly pride. His incessant praise of himself led him to neglect the necessities of life and, therefore, to his premature demise. The Narcissus myth is a cautionary tale warning people against the vanity of pride. Christ, on the other hand, tells us that he is meek and humble of heart. Moreover, Scripture tells us that he was obedient unto death.

The choice between Narcissus and Christ is, intellectually, not difficult to make. But on the practical level of our own lived lives, it requires all that we can muster.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Donald DeMarco. "12-Step Pride-Elimination Plan." National Catholic Register(November 14, 2011).

This article is reprinted with permission from National Catholic Register. To subscribe to the National Catholic Register call 1-800-421-3230.

THE AUTHOR

Donald DeMarco is adjunct professor at Holy Apostles College & Seminary in Cromwell, Connecticut and Professor Emeritus at St. Jerome's University in Waterloo Ontario. He also continues to work as a corresponding member of the Pontifical Acadmy for Life. Donald DeMarco has written hundreds of articles for various scholarly and popular journals, and is the author of twenty books, including The Heart of Virtue, The Many Faces of Virtue, Virtue's Alphabet: From Amiability to Zeal andArchitects Of The Culture Of Death. Donald DeMarco is on the Advisory Board of The Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 2011 National Catholic Register

Wednesday, November 02, 2011

Article: The love of the saints

FATHER GEORGE W. RUTLER

No generation has had more saints to intercede for them than ours has.

Last week, Pope Benedict XVI raised three new ones to the altars. Saint Guido Maria Conforti, bishop of Ravenna and Parma, though plagued by ill health, founded the Xaverian Missionaries for the conversion of non-Christians; he died in 1931. Saint Luigi Guanella, who died in 1915, founded three religious orders specially devoted to the care of the sick and dying. Saint Bonifacia Rodríguez Castro, who entered heaven in 1905, founded an order whose special dedication is to women who are poor or unemployed.

The good works these saints did were outward manifestations of the two commandments which our Lord declared to be the bedrock of all moral laws: love of God and love of one another (cf. Matthew 22:34-40).

Jesus cited those two commandments, from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, in response to the Pharisees who were testing Him. He had already confounded the Sadducees, who had tried to trick Him with cynical questionings. Sadducees and Pharisees live in every generation. The Sadducees were materialistic skeptics who did not believe in what they could not immediately comprehend, such as eternal life, rather like the Modernists of recent times. The Pharisees accepted supernatural mysteries such as angels and the resurrection of the dead, but were arrogant about their faith, quite like anyone smugly pious enough to pose as more Catholic than the Pope.

Jesus disturbed both parties by digging into the bedrock of holiness that is the love of God made tangible in the way we behave with our fellow humans. The superficial contradiction of that is solipsism, or self absorption, neglecting God and neighbor. In the Greek myth, Narcissus was so in love with his own reflection that he rejected the voice of the woodland nymph Echo, who loved him. Saints do not live in isolation, and so the voice of God does not bounce off them.

In September, Pope Benedict told the German federal parliament that society is in danger of taking on a "bunker" mentality, isolated in a windowless world, whose light and atmosphere are artificial. Such is the fate of the solipsist. Last week was the feast of Saint John of Capistrano, who was anything but a solipsist. He used his brains and energy to relieve the siege of Belgrade in 1456 and helped to save our civilization. His love of God was not an abstraction. At the time of the battle, Pope Callixtus III ordered that church bells be rung at noon, and noonday bells have rung ever since. On All Saints' Day, the bells recall the divine love that Christ brought to earth and made tangible: "What was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked upon and touched with our hands…" (1 John 1:1).



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father George William Rutler. "The love of the saints." From the Pastor (October 30, 2011).

Reprinted with permission of Father George W. Rutler.

THE AUTHOR

Father Rutler received priestly ordination in 1981. Born in 1945 and reared in the Episcopal tradition, Father Rutler was an Episcopal priest for nine years. He was received into the Catholic Church in 1979 and was sent to the North American College in Rome for seminary studies. Father Rutler graduated from Dartmouth, where he was a Rufus Choate Scholar, and took advanced degrees at the Johns Hopkins University and the General Theological Seminary. He holds several degrees from the Gregorian and Angelicum Universities in Rome, including the Pontifical Doctorate in Sacred Theology, and studied at the Institut Catholique in Paris. In England, in 1988, the University of Oxford awarded him the degree Master of Studies. From 1987 to 1989 he was regular preacher to the students, faculty, and townspeople of Oxford. Cardinal Egan appointed him Pastor of theChurch of Our Saviour, effective September 17, 2001.

Since 1988 his weekly television program has been broadcast worldwide on EWTN. Father Rutler has published 17 books, including: Cloud of Witnesses - Dead People I Knew When They Were Alive, Coincidentally: Unserious Reflections on Trivial Connections, A Crisis of Saints: Essays on People and Principles, Brightest and Best, Saint John Vianney: The Cure D'Ars Today, Crisis in Culture, and Adam Danced: The Cross and the Seven Deadly Sins.

Copyright © 2011 Father George W. Rutler

Article: On Saints and Souls

FATHER JAMES V. SCHALL, S. J.

The modern world has a peculiar problem with Catholicism.

Few acknowledge that such a thing as "sin" exists. But an occult delight surges in many souls over the frequent aberrations of believers.

A twofold reason exists for this reaction. First, the track record of believers is consolingly not much different from that of unbelievers. Secondly, no need to distinguish right from wrong, good from bad can be given if no one can do anything about them. Yet we recollect the nagging teaching that Christ became man, in part, so that sins might be forgiven. The denial that sins happen logically denies the need or reality of a forgiving God.

In the Church, the first two days of November are the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls. In recent years, Benedict often gives, as evidence for the validity of Catholicism, the example of the saints, from all walks of life. Morality is not primarily a list of rules or series of sanctions. It is mainly following the example of those who loved God and neighbor, who served the minds and bodies of their friends and fellow men.

Prominent in the list of actual saints are those known to have been, by any objective standards, sinners. This approach teaches us that sin itself need be not the last word, though it can be, if we choose. Sin is the other side of human freedom. To deny the possibility and fact of sin is to deny the possibility and fact of human freedom.

Benedict has likewise devoted much attention to the souls of the departed. The teaching on souls in Purgatory has recently been downgraded, if not simply rejected. Yet it is the primary doctrine that stands, as it were, between saints and sinners. All Saints' Day is a celebration of all the saints who have ever reached the purpose of their lives, the City of God, the achievement of the end for which each person is created.

All Souls' Day refers rather to the probably far larger number of people who died repentant indeed, but not yet really ready to encounter the divine life. Benedict, along with Plato on the same topic, suggests that no one would want to stand before God unless he was sufficiently cleansed. He leaves the logic to sink in.


We hear of the Church Triumphant, the Church Suffering, and the Church Militant. The same Church is understood to have members in heaven, in Purgatory, and still deciding on where they will be. Obviously left out are those who have simply and responsibly rejected entrance into such a Church at any level. The last section of Hobbes' Leviathan was entitled "The Kingdom of Darkness."

Benedict devotes much attention to the following phrase in the Creed: "Christ will come to judge the living and the dead." Why is this? Readers of Plato – the pope is one of these – know that Socrates was concerned to show that the world was not created in injustice. Man was not "the measure of all things," as Protagoras had suggested. If he were, nothing we do would make much difference.

Readers of Plato – the pope is one of these – know that Socrates was concerned to show that the world was not created in injustice. Man was not "the measure of all things,"...

This consequence would mean that crimes and sins that men committed in this life were not accounted for if they were not repented of or punished. It would also mean that the many noble and good, but unacknowledged, things that we do for one another would not be recognized.

The doctrine of hell, if nothing else, testifies to the significance of our actual deeds, however we might judge them in our own interest. Plato understood this issue quite clearly. In Plato, if we die in our sins, we are condemned to the river of punishment. We cannot escape until the person against whom we sinned actually forgives us.

What Christianity adds to this teaching on forgiveness is that our sins are not simply against one another. Or better, as they are against one another, they are also against God who placed us in the order in which we live, the order of our freedom and responsibility. Christian revelation begins its teaching to us with the word: "Repent." This admonition implies that we have the graced power to do so. But we do not have the power to forgive ourselves since it is not only against ourselves that we have sinned.

How often shall we forgive our neighbor? Christ answered this question of the apostle by saying not just seven times but seventy times seven times. That is to say, the core of our issues with God remains as long as we have our freedom. But we can choose either way. This choosing is what we do in the drama of our actual lives. All Saints and All Souls – these two days, if we think of them, reach the very foundations of our being.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Father James V. Schall, S.J. "On Saints and Souls." The Catholic Thing (November 1, 2011).

Reprinted with permission from The Catholic Thing. All rights reserved. For reprint rights, write to: info@thecatholicthing.org.

The Catholic thing – the concrete historical reality of Catholicism – is the richest cultural tradition in the world. That is the deep background to The Catholic Thing which bring you an original column every day that provides fresh and penetrating insight into the current situation along with other commentary, news, analysis, and – yes – even humor. Our writers include some of the most seasoned and insightful Catholic minds in America: Michael Novak, Ralph McInerny, Hadley Arkes, Michael Uhlmann, Mary Eberstadt, Austin Ruse, George Marlin, William Saunders, and many others.

THE AUTHOR

Father James V. Schall, S.J., is Professor of Political Philosophy at Georgetown University and the author of many books in the areas of social issues, spirituality and literature including The Mind That Is Catholic: Philosophical & Political Essays, On the Unseriousness of Human Affairs: Teaching, Writing, Playing, Believing, Lecturing, Philosophizing, Singing, Dancing; Roman Catholic Political Philosophy; The Order of Things; The Regensburg Lecture; The Life of the Mind: On the Joys and Travails of Thinking; Schall on Chesterton: Timely Essays on Timeless Paradoxes; Another Sort of Learning, Sum Total Of Human Happiness, and A Student's Guide to Liberal Learning.

Copyright © 2011 The Catholic Thing

Article: What is a Saint?

PETER KREEFT

Saints are not freaks or exceptions, they are the standard operating model for human beings.

Why does the Church include All Saints' Day (Nov. 1) in her calendar of solemn feasts? Why does the Apostles' Creed include "the communion of saints" as one of the 12 essential articles of our faith?

Because, as Charles Peguy put it, "life holds only one tragedy, ultimately: not to have been a saint."

Saints are not freaks or exceptions. They are the standard operating model for human beings. In fact, in the biblical sense of the word, all believers are saints. "Sanctity" means holiness. All men, women and children, born or unborn, beautiful or ugly, straight or gay, are holy, for they bear the image of God.

Saints are not the opposite of sinners. There are no opposites of sinners in this world. There are only saved sinners and unsaved sinners. Thus holy does not mean "sinless" but "set-apart:" called out of the world to the destiny of eternal ecstasy with God.

What is a saint? First of all, one who knows he is a sinner. A saint knows all the news, both the bad news of sin and the good news of salvation. A saint is a true scientist, a true philosopher:

A saint knows the truth. A saint is a seer, one who sees what's there. A saint is a realist.

A saint is also an idealist. A saint embraces heroic suffering out of heroic love. A saint also embraces heroic joy. (This is one of the criteria for canonization: Saints must have joy.)

A saint is a servant of Christ. A saint is also a conqueror greater than Alexander, who only conquered the world. A saint conquers himself. What does it profit a man if he conquers the whole world but does not conquer himself?

A saint is so open that he can say, with Paul, "I have learned, in whatever situation I find myself, to be self-sufficient. I know how to live in humble circumstances; I know also how to live with abundance" (Phil. 4:11-12). A saint marries God "for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death." A saint is also so determined, so stubborn, that he will die before compromising the truth, and will write credo in the sand with his own blood as he dies. (One saint actually did this.)

A saint is a sworn enemy of the world, the flesh and the devil. He is locked in mortal combat with principalities and powers. A saint is also a friend and lover of the world. He kisses this sin-cancered world with the tender lips of the God of John 3:16. A saint declares God's war on this world, sinking the cross into the enemy occupied earth like a sword, the hilt held by heaven. At the same time he stretches his arms out on that very cross as if to say, "See? This is how wide my love is for you!"

A saint is Christ's bride, totally attached, faithful, dependent. A saint is also totally independent, detached from idols and from other husbands. A saint works among these others money, power, pleasure – as a married woman works with other men, but will not marry them or even flirt with them.

A saint is higher than anyone else in the world. A saint is the real mountain climber. A saint is also lower than anyone else in the world. As with water, he flows to the lowest places – like Calcutta.


A saint's heart is broken by every little sorrow and sin. A saint's heart is also so strong that not even death can break it. It is indestructible because it's so breakable.

A saint's heart is broken by every little sorrow and sin. A saint's heart is also so strong that not even death can break it. It is indestructible because it's so breakable.

A saint takes his hands off the steering wheel of his life and lets God steer. That's scary, for God is invisible. A saint also has hands that move the world. He has feet that move through the world with a sure step.

A saint does not let others play God to him. A saint takes his orders from the General, not from the army. A saint also does not play God to others.

A saint is a little Christ. Not only do we see Christ through His saints, as we see a light through a stained glass window, but we also understand the saints only through Christ, as we understand eggs only through chickens.

The saints are our family. We are one Body. They are our legs and we are theirs. That's why their feast is our feast. As Pascal says, "Examples of noble deaths of Spartans and others hardly affect us... but the example of the deaths of martyrs affects us, for they are our members... we do not become rich through seeing a rich stranger, but through seeing a father or husband rich."

We become saints not by thinking about it, and not (certainly) by writing about it, but simply by doing it. There comes a time when the "how?" question stops and we just do it. If the one we love were at our door knocking to come in, would we wonder how the door lock works, and how we could move our muscles to open it?

Francis of Assisi once told his monks that if they were in the midst of the Beatific Vision and a tramp knocked at their door asking for a cup of cold water, turning away from the heavenly vision to help the tramp would be the real heaven, and turning away from the tramp to keep the blissful vision would be turning from God's face.

A saint is one who sees who the tramp is: Jesus.



ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Peter Kreeft. "What is a Saint?" National Catholic Register. (October 1987).

Reprinted by permission of the author and National Catholic Register. To subscribe to the National Catholic Register call 1-800-421-3230.

THE AUTHOR

Peter Kreeft, Ph.D., is a professor of philosophy at Boston College. He is an alumnus of Calvin College (AB 1959) and Fordham University (MA 1961, Ph.D., 1965). He taught at Villanova University from 1962-1965, and has been at Boston College since 1965.

He is the author of numerous books (over forty and counting) including: The Snakebite Letters,The Philosophy of Jesus, The Journey: A Spiritual Roadmap for Modern Pilgrims, Prayer: The Great Conversation: Straight Answers to Tough Questions About Prayer, How to Win the Culture War: A Christian Battle Plan for a Society in Crisis, Love Is Stronger Than Death, Philosophy 101 by Socrates: An Introduction to Philosophy Via Plato's Apology, A Pocket Guide to the Meaning of Life, and Before I Go: Letters to Our Children About What Really Matters. Peter Kreeft in on the Advisory Board of the Catholic Education Resource Center.

Copyright © 1987 National Catholic Register