Christ opens the interior eye

François Mauriac

“Undoubtedly Christ was like many people whose beauty, at once very secret and very striking, dazzled some and escaped others; this is especially true when beauty is of the spiritual order.

The august light on this face could be perceived only by an interior disposition.
When we are in love, we are often surprised by the indifference others show to the face which, for us, sums up all the splendor of the world.

Many do not even think of looking at those characteristics of Christ which reflected heaven, the mere sight of which makes us wild with delight and anguish.

The least moment spent with the loved one is of inestimable value to us; yet it often makes little difference to his companions or his parents to live under the same roof with him or to share in the same work and breathe the air which he breathes.
Like all creatures, Christ is transformed by the person who is attracted to him.
To this very natural phenomenon grace adds its unpredictable action.  

We cannot appear to another person as we would like him to see us, but the God-man is not only the master of hearts but also the master of grace that is at work in hearts.
He cured many more men born blind than the gospel accounts.

Each time a creature called him his Lord and God and confessed that he was the Christ, the Messiah come into the world, he did so because Christ had opened the interior eye whose vision is not limited simply to appearances.” -- François Mauriac, The Son of Man

Jesus has become our Way, our Truth and our Life because he declines to have any way of his own

Luke 8:21 Jesus said to them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and act on it."

Ruth Burrows writes in her book, Essence of Prayer

Jesus has become our W a y, our T r u t h and our L i f e because he declined to have any way of his own, any truth or reality of his own, only the Father's.  He declined to live from his own well-springs but only from the Father.  This is what we have to do; this is how we must live. 

Jesus is with us always not so as to pillow our weary heads on his breast and murmur words of solace in our ears continually, but to share with us his vision, his passionate dedication to the Father's will.  He is with us to brace, reinforce, underpin us for our life's great task.  True, he lifts from our shoulders the crushing yoke of an alien master, the god we have fashioned in our own likeness, by revealing the true face of the Father.  He breaks off self-made shackles of bondage and sets us free.  Thus his companionship gives us rest and real happiness.  Nevertheless there remains a yoke and a burden that has to be carried with courage and love. 

Life-giving, joy-giving knowledge of Jesus and the Father he reveals does not drop into our lap from heaven.  We have to work for it.  'Come to me', says Jesus, and we must go to him, and the prime way of going to him is by intent, loving absorption of scripture, particularly the New Testament.  Put simply, we must strive to acquire an intellectual knowledge of him, of his attitudes, values, teaching.  This intellectual knowledge is certainly not intimacy, certainly not a 'knowing Jesus' but it is an indispensable ingredient for intimacy and real knowing:  It is work we have to do, a practical expression of earnest desire to get to know our Lord. 

Flannery O'Connor answers the silly notion that we should be able to have the Church our way...

In a 1958 letter to her friend Cecil Dawkins Flannery O'Connor wrote: 

To have the Church be what you want it to be would require the continuous miraculous meddling of God in human affairs, whereas it is our dignity that we are allowed more or less to get on with those graces that come through faith and the sacraments and which work through our human nature. God has chosen to operate in this manner. We can't understand this but we can't reject it without rejecting life...

You don't serve God by saying: the Church is ineffective, I'll have none of it. Your pain at its lack of effectiveness is a sign of your nearness to God. We help overcome this lack of effectiveness simply by suffering on account of it.

The family is the "cell" of social life

I heard an interesting comment about the family as the cell of faith for society.  This commented caused me to search for more on the notion of the family being a cell of social life.  Susan Klemond had an interesting post that I hope you like:

Have you ever wondered why phones are called “cell” phones? If you already know this, you’re ahead of me: “Cell” doesn’t refer to a component in the phone but the fact that service providers divide up a city or region into geographic areas called cells which are equipped with a tower and radio equipment. Because of this structure, users within a cell can communicate with those in other cells.
Each cell plays a critical role in ensuring communication for the entire city or region. In a similar way, the Church teaches that each family is a cell vital to the function of society. According to the Catechism:

The family is the original cell of social life. It is the natural society in which husband and wife are called to give themselves in love and in the gift of life. Authority, stability, and a life of relationships within the family constitute the foundations for freedom, security, and fraternity within society. The family is the community in which, from childhood, one can learn moral values, begin to honor God, and make good use of freedom. Family life is an initiation into life in society. (CCC:2207)

Marriage is a private matter between a couple but the Church teaches that the broader society has an interest in the institution because it’s where children are most often conceived and raised. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations in 1948 recognizes the family’s special role: “The family is the natural and fundamental group unit of society and is entitled to protection by society and the State.”  - Susan Klemond

Simone Weil and John Janaro - Can I put them together in the same post? You tell me.

I found other beautiful quote from John Janaro that I must share. This one is from "The Created Person and the Mystery of God" by John Janaro (Click Here)

The Mystery who gives man his being has drawn close to him, spoken to him, and become his companion within history. What we want to begin to understand is that this gift, this message, this continued presence of God in man’s history is an affirmation of the value of man himself; it corresponds to all that is most noble and beautiful in man, and it heals what is broken in him.

God addresses man His creature according to the fullness of the dignity of his humanity—God addresses man as man, as a person. Man therefore is not called to adhere to God in a way that contradicts his humanity; he adheres to God with the full richness of his nature and his capacities—that is to say, by a fully personal act—an act that fully engages his reason and his freedom; an act that does justice to his reason and emerges from the depths of his freedom; an act of knowledge and love.

 This reminded me of a favorite quote of mine from Simone Weil. I know she can be a bit heady but see what you think.

"God has provided that when his grace penetrates to the very center of a person and from there illuminates all his being, he is able to walk on water without violating any of the laws of nature. When, however, a man turns away from God he simply gives himself up to the law of gravity. Then he thinks he can decide and choose, but he is only a thing, a stone, that falls. If we examine human society and souls closely and with real attention, we see that wherever the virtue of supernatural light is absent, everything is obedient to mechanical laws as blind and as exact as the law of gravitation… Those whom we call criminals are only tiles blown off a roof by the wind and falling at random. Their only fault is the initial choice by which they became such tiles.

“The mechanism of necessity can be transposed to any level while still remaining true to itself. It is the same in the world of pure matter, in the animal world, among nations, and in souls. Seen from our present standpoint, and in human perspective, it is quite blind. If, however, we transport our hearts beyond ourselves, beyond the universe, beyond space and time to where our Father dwells, and if from there we behold this mechanism, it appears quite different. What seemed to be necessity becomes obedience. Matter is entirely passive and in consequence entirely obedient to God’s will. It is a perfect model for us. There cannot be any being other than God and that which obeys God.” Waiting for God (pg. 75-76)

Go to my original post on Simone Weil by clicking here.

In human things, time and presence are the media of love

The Magnificat has had a couple thought-provoking meditations from John Janaro and his book, "Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy."

My trials have opened my eyes, my ears, and my heart to something I never noticed in my youth.  Maybe it is because I have finally started listening to people.  The fact is that many people are suffering, many of them more than I.  Indeed, suffering is deeper than the immediate external struggles that engage most of us.  Everyone has something missing in life, something that has disappointed, something that does not measure up to a once-cherished hope, something that inhibits freedom, some burden that tires, some hunger that is never satisfied.

People usually accommodate themselves to reduced expectations about life, especially as they get older.  How else could they get through the day?  Sometimes, however, one can still catch an echo of a cry of pain, that deep and mysterious pain at the heart of every human life.  Life is, in some measure, always something that has to be endured.

Why is this?  We suffer because of sin: original sin, our own personal sins, and the sins of the world.  We suffer in Christ, who is God's love made personal and particular for each one of us.  Jesus is God drawn close to our wounded humanity, so close that he takes upon himself—not merely in some general way but in a way that encompasses each one of us.

In another part of his book, Janaro writes, "In human things, time and presence are the media of love."

In last month's edition of the Magnificat, Janaro makes this contribution:

Jesus is the intimate companion of each and every human person, even those who do not know him. He knows each one of us; God the eternal Son of the Father unites himself to my humanity and to your humanity. He lives in us and suffers in us and through us. He accompanies us through our companionship with one another and reaches out to others through our witness. 

Jesus knows who I am and who he wills me to be. He knows the secret of why I was created. He knows my sins. He knows how to heal me of them, how to draw me to himself, how to make me the adopted son that I am meant to be in him for all eternity.

And so my joys and sufferings are his infinitely wise, uniquely crafted, and tender love through which he shapes my life and leads me to my destiny. How little I really understand about my destiny. How little I understand about the eternal life that means belonging to him for ever.

We must remember every day that God is with us and that He draws us toward our true identity, which is to reflect His eternal glory in that unique way that corresponds to each of us as a person created in His image and likeness—a reflection that we do not yet understand but that He sees and knows.

We ought to dwell upon this and call it frequently to mind. Those little prayers throughout the day are worth so much: “Jesus, I love you. Jesus, I trust in you. Come, Holy Spirit.” No matter the storms and the fury; the depths of our lives are not solitude. At the heart of life, of every moment of life, there is companionship with the Merciful God.

When a man's spirits are high... is he in a dream?

Blessed John Henry Newman:

When a man's spirits are high, he is pleased with every thing; and with himself especially. He can act with vigour and promptness, and he mistakes this mere constitutional energy for strength of faith. He is cheerful and contented; and he mistakes this for Christian peace. And, if happy in his family, he mistakes mere natural affection for Christian benevolence, and the confirmed temper of Christian love. In short, he is in a dream, from which nothing could have saved him except deep humility, and nothing will ordinarily rescue him except sharp affliction.