A Third Sunday after Easter Thought to Start the Week Off Right
On this Third Sunday after Easter we remain in "joy mode." Joy mode trumps the penitential mode of Lent.
Of course, it's not either/or when it comes to joyous and penitential. We don't switch from one to the other. These two work together throughout the Liturgical Year, as they should in our spiritual lives. Whether it's Lent, Easter, or just plain old "Ordinary" time (as it's called in the new calendar), holiness unites the two. More accurately, our striving for holiness. That's the whole point of our lives, after all.
This week's entry in The Inner Life of the Soul provides us with some substantial thoughts to consider regarding holiness, also known as "sanctity." We'll see the special help St. Joseph provides to us as we take our daily baby steps closer and closer to the Risen Christ during this glorious Easter Season.
Let's begin with an historical point first. In our time, we celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker on May 1st. It's a fairly new thing. Pope Pius XII declared this special feast day in honor of St. Joseph as a Catholic response to the celebrations of May Day, a/k/a Worker's Day. This secular observance commemorated the historic struggles of workers in the so-called labor movement. The secular observance had become associated with socialism. Given its popularity at the time, Pius rightly countered this with Catholic coloring. (If you don't understand why socialism isn't a good thing, and why it's opposed to our Catholic religion, it might be a good time to bone up on the subject.).
With that background, let's turn to The Inner Life of the Soul. In the older Roman calendar, there already was a feast of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It fell in May. That's the reference we find in The Inner Life of the Soul during a discussion of two types of sanctity. The discussion arises as an answer to the question: Is there any set way to attain true holiness? One way follows a more "classical" pattern; the other a pattern marked by "liberty."
First, a description of the "classical":
"This sanctity which by virtue of its regular, balanced, harmonious character, I shall call classical. This sanctity, perfectly self-poised and in keeping, its present a logical sequence of its past, and harmonious in all its elements, has a sphere, a spirit, a walk, and laws of its own. God holds perfect sway over this sort of sanctity; He rules it justly and kindly, and has pleasure in it, as in the most perfect image of the regular and immutable laws of creation."
Next, that type of holiness characterized by "liberty":
"Another kind of holiness there is, freer, more individual, more bold, swifter in its flight, more ardent, more devoted, more self-abandoned, it may be, in its love."
As with penitence and joyfulness, this distinction does not imply any sort of opposition. One does not exclude the other. Perhaps some of us may incline more toward one rather than the other. That inclination springs from our individual character, temperament, or circumstances. Perhaps my own case might serve as a convenient example.
When I first began to take seriously the idea that we should strive to become holy, my initial attempts could be characterized as "classical" - or at least tried to be. Based on the knowledge and understanding I had then, my daily efforts at matters spiritual were more formal. If you read the description above, that was, in my mind, the "ideal."
The thing is, that wasn't really how things developed. As opposed to balanced and harmonious, my efforts were more "hit and miss." As a result, a great deal of doubt and anxiety built up over time, as I seemed to consistently fall short of this ideal. But, by the grace of God, I had begun the practice of regular study of my religion and reading of good spiritual works, including a daily reading of the the Rule of St. Benedict. One of the tenets of this Rule was something known as "liberty of spirit." My understanding of this concept was augmented and confirmed by other spiritual works. As my understanding grew over time, the doubt and anxiety lessened. I continued to strive daily for holiness, but without the nagging thought and feeling that I was spinning my wheels.
I bring all this up not to tout my personal holiness. (The very thought makes me laugh.) It's more: "If I can do this, anyone can." Really.
Of course, you have to want to become holy. And it helps if you understand that holiness isn't something reserved for monks; it's not some mystical state of being. Do you want to be closer to Jesus, to Mary, to your Father in Heaven? Do you want to be guided by the Holy Spirit when you make decisions, or simply when you apply yourself to your daily labors? You do, right? Notice the special connection with St. Joseph, as The Inner Life of the Soul further explains:
"...high personal sanctity is not tied to any one state or calling; it is possible everywhere, and a child may gain it. Let us beg St. Joseph, special patron of souls who are striving to live near to Jesus and Mary, to obtain for each of us a complete oneness with God's will by the grace of the Holy Ghost. In the quiet abandonment of a soul to the impression of the Divine Spirit, God is that that soul, as has been finely said, 'like a mighty magnet, the operation being not fitful nor periodical, but continual and unabated, through weariness and languor, through joy and peace."
We - you and I - can do this. It takes an act of will ("I want to be holy.") and the grace of God. And for more encouragement, you can ask for the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, your Guardian Angel, your special patron saints. You can even, with a reasonable degree of confidence, ask loved ones who have died, for their help. After all, if they're in Heaven (or in Purgatory, on their way there), they can pray for you. And you, of course, look forward to being reunited to them some day. Of course, that will only happen if you get to Heaven. And, guess what? The only way you get to Heaven is by striving to be holy.
Now, isn't this a wondrous thing? Doesn't the very idea that you and I can become holy, that we can - in this life - grow closer to God with the help of Our Lady, the angels, the saints profoundly move you? And doesn't the possibility of being reunited with loved ones who have gone before us serve as just about the greatest inspiration you could possibly find to get you take your spiritual life seriously?
Circling back to where we began, in "joy mode," I don't know about you, but I think my Easter joy mode meter just registered "10!".
Of course, it's not either/or when it comes to joyous and penitential. We don't switch from one to the other. These two work together throughout the Liturgical Year, as they should in our spiritual lives. Whether it's Lent, Easter, or just plain old "Ordinary" time (as it's called in the new calendar), holiness unites the two. More accurately, our striving for holiness. That's the whole point of our lives, after all.
This week's entry in The Inner Life of the Soul provides us with some substantial thoughts to consider regarding holiness, also known as "sanctity." We'll see the special help St. Joseph provides to us as we take our daily baby steps closer and closer to the Risen Christ during this glorious Easter Season.
Let's begin with an historical point first. In our time, we celebrate the Feast of St. Joseph the Worker on May 1st. It's a fairly new thing. Pope Pius XII declared this special feast day in honor of St. Joseph as a Catholic response to the celebrations of May Day, a/k/a Worker's Day. This secular observance commemorated the historic struggles of workers in the so-called labor movement. The secular observance had become associated with socialism. Given its popularity at the time, Pius rightly countered this with Catholic coloring. (If you don't understand why socialism isn't a good thing, and why it's opposed to our Catholic religion, it might be a good time to bone up on the subject.).
With that background, let's turn to The Inner Life of the Soul. In the older Roman calendar, there already was a feast of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It fell in May. That's the reference we find in The Inner Life of the Soul during a discussion of two types of sanctity. The discussion arises as an answer to the question: Is there any set way to attain true holiness? One way follows a more "classical" pattern; the other a pattern marked by "liberty."
First, a description of the "classical":
"This sanctity which by virtue of its regular, balanced, harmonious character, I shall call classical. This sanctity, perfectly self-poised and in keeping, its present a logical sequence of its past, and harmonious in all its elements, has a sphere, a spirit, a walk, and laws of its own. God holds perfect sway over this sort of sanctity; He rules it justly and kindly, and has pleasure in it, as in the most perfect image of the regular and immutable laws of creation."
Next, that type of holiness characterized by "liberty":
"Another kind of holiness there is, freer, more individual, more bold, swifter in its flight, more ardent, more devoted, more self-abandoned, it may be, in its love."
As with penitence and joyfulness, this distinction does not imply any sort of opposition. One does not exclude the other. Perhaps some of us may incline more toward one rather than the other. That inclination springs from our individual character, temperament, or circumstances. Perhaps my own case might serve as a convenient example.
When I first began to take seriously the idea that we should strive to become holy, my initial attempts could be characterized as "classical" - or at least tried to be. Based on the knowledge and understanding I had then, my daily efforts at matters spiritual were more formal. If you read the description above, that was, in my mind, the "ideal."
The thing is, that wasn't really how things developed. As opposed to balanced and harmonious, my efforts were more "hit and miss." As a result, a great deal of doubt and anxiety built up over time, as I seemed to consistently fall short of this ideal. But, by the grace of God, I had begun the practice of regular study of my religion and reading of good spiritual works, including a daily reading of the the Rule of St. Benedict. One of the tenets of this Rule was something known as "liberty of spirit." My understanding of this concept was augmented and confirmed by other spiritual works. As my understanding grew over time, the doubt and anxiety lessened. I continued to strive daily for holiness, but without the nagging thought and feeling that I was spinning my wheels.
I bring all this up not to tout my personal holiness. (The very thought makes me laugh.) It's more: "If I can do this, anyone can." Really.
Of course, you have to want to become holy. And it helps if you understand that holiness isn't something reserved for monks; it's not some mystical state of being. Do you want to be closer to Jesus, to Mary, to your Father in Heaven? Do you want to be guided by the Holy Spirit when you make decisions, or simply when you apply yourself to your daily labors? You do, right? Notice the special connection with St. Joseph, as The Inner Life of the Soul further explains:
"...high personal sanctity is not tied to any one state or calling; it is possible everywhere, and a child may gain it. Let us beg St. Joseph, special patron of souls who are striving to live near to Jesus and Mary, to obtain for each of us a complete oneness with God's will by the grace of the Holy Ghost. In the quiet abandonment of a soul to the impression of the Divine Spirit, God is that that soul, as has been finely said, 'like a mighty magnet, the operation being not fitful nor periodical, but continual and unabated, through weariness and languor, through joy and peace."
We - you and I - can do this. It takes an act of will ("I want to be holy.") and the grace of God. And for more encouragement, you can ask for the intercession of Our Blessed Mother, St. Joseph, your Guardian Angel, your special patron saints. You can even, with a reasonable degree of confidence, ask loved ones who have died, for their help. After all, if they're in Heaven (or in Purgatory, on their way there), they can pray for you. And you, of course, look forward to being reunited to them some day. Of course, that will only happen if you get to Heaven. And, guess what? The only way you get to Heaven is by striving to be holy.
Now, isn't this a wondrous thing? Doesn't the very idea that you and I can become holy, that we can - in this life - grow closer to God with the help of Our Lady, the angels, the saints profoundly move you? And doesn't the possibility of being reunited with loved ones who have gone before us serve as just about the greatest inspiration you could possibly find to get you take your spiritual life seriously?
Circling back to where we began, in "joy mode," I don't know about you, but I think my Easter joy mode meter just registered "10!".
Happy Easter!
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