A 13th Sunday after Pentecost Thought to Start the Week Off Right
The entry in The Inner Life of the Soul for this 13th Sunday after Pentecost caused me to recall a poem by Robert Frost I read in school, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," particularly the last three lines:
You'll see why once we consider today's offering in The Inner Life of the Soul.
After last week's discussion of the Communion of Saints, this week we find examples of how real saints think, speak, and act. In that light, the "miles to go" illustrates the distance between such thoughts, words, and actions, and my own. And the "sleep" - whether intended in the original poem or not - references death. I can only hope God gives me the time to walk the "miles to go" before he calls me. Based on the examples we'll see next, you'll probably understand why I think I need time to improve.
With that in mind, let's get to the saints.
St. Augustine recalls how he and his mother Monica sat quietly together in a garden in Ostia "leaning in a certain window, discoursing between ourselves of what sort of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be."
St. Philip Neri assures his spiritual daughter, Sister Ursula Benincasa, "just as surely as they now walk up and down that room together, and talk together, they shall one day walk and talk together in the paradise of God."
Those attending St. Anthony of Padua at his death bed "ask him in reverent fear what he beholds." In response, they "hear an amazing answer, 'I see my God!' and so he dies."
The girl St. Agnes, walking to her martyrdom, cries out to her persecutors, "in her girlish voice, words that are the veritable echoes of St. Paul's grand utterance: 'I know Whom I believed, and am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.'"
On his death bed, St. Stanislaus Kostka's countenance and angelic expression remained perfectly intact in death as it was in life, such that those surrounding him could not even tell that he had died: "the color did not leave his cheek, nor did the brightness forsake his eye..."
St. Aloysius Gonzaga, dying at age twenty-three: "Surrounded by all the world can offer, heir to a dukedom, eldest son of a princely race, he has set his will on nobler things. Kneeling before the crucifix, bathed in tears of devotion, - rapt in ecstasy, seeing and and hearing nothing of this world's pleasures, - God is his one thought and his one desire, and God, even here, is his exceeding great reward."
Now, let's compare all this to moi.
To begin with, in a million years, I can't even imagine myself like one of these saints.
Okay, there have been occasions when something vaguely like what these saints thought managed to pop up into my brain Maybe some word slipped from my lips, or some action I took, might have, by the grace of God, been spoken or taken in an unselfish manner. Since our son died this year, I have thought somewhat about eternal life (St. Augustine) and walking together in Heaven (St. Philip Neri). Still, I can't imagine myself on my death bed ever saying "I see my God!" (St. Anthony), never mind having the courage of St. Agnes, or the "angelic expression of St Stanislaus. And if I had the wealth and privilege of St. Aloysius I fear I'd give God at best a cursory acknowledgement, never mind forsaking all those goodies that wealth brings some people. (Thank God I was born to parents of modest means!)
But those of us who might be in the same boat - the ones who aren't yet saints - can't just shrug our shoulders and and sigh, "Oh well." Remember those "miles to go." With God's grace, we can start walking. And if we keep walking, in time we ever-so-slowly might edge our way closer to embracing and even demonstrating to others the examples of holiness our saints have given us. That's pretty much what life is all about, isn't it? If we're going to work our way to Heaven, we've got to start acting like those who've already gotten there before us.
So before we prepare ourselves for the work week ahead, let's be certain those preparations prioritize our spiritual lives. That schedule you lay out for Monday to Friday needs time for prayer, studying your Catholic religion, reading Scripture and good spiritual works. It might even include a daily rosary and Mass. And do set aside that mere five minutes of quiet contemplative time with God each morning, before we fire ourselves up for the day's work. Who knows, some day those examples from the saints might not seem so out of our grasp as they might seem now.
It'll take some doing. And you'll need to maybe take the things you strive for and value in this world down a peg. But it's not impossible.
"The more spiritual a man becomes, the more real to him are spiritual things, and the more do earthly things become only shadows and phantoms in the light of God."
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
You'll see why once we consider today's offering in The Inner Life of the Soul.
After last week's discussion of the Communion of Saints, this week we find examples of how real saints think, speak, and act. In that light, the "miles to go" illustrates the distance between such thoughts, words, and actions, and my own. And the "sleep" - whether intended in the original poem or not - references death. I can only hope God gives me the time to walk the "miles to go" before he calls me. Based on the examples we'll see next, you'll probably understand why I think I need time to improve.
With that in mind, let's get to the saints.
St. Augustine recalls how he and his mother Monica sat quietly together in a garden in Ostia "leaning in a certain window, discoursing between ourselves of what sort of what sort the eternal life of the saints was to be."
St. Philip Neri assures his spiritual daughter, Sister Ursula Benincasa, "just as surely as they now walk up and down that room together, and talk together, they shall one day walk and talk together in the paradise of God."
Those attending St. Anthony of Padua at his death bed "ask him in reverent fear what he beholds." In response, they "hear an amazing answer, 'I see my God!' and so he dies."
The girl St. Agnes, walking to her martyrdom, cries out to her persecutors, "in her girlish voice, words that are the veritable echoes of St. Paul's grand utterance: 'I know Whom I believed, and am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed to him against that day.'"
On his death bed, St. Stanislaus Kostka's countenance and angelic expression remained perfectly intact in death as it was in life, such that those surrounding him could not even tell that he had died: "the color did not leave his cheek, nor did the brightness forsake his eye..."
St. Aloysius Gonzaga, dying at age twenty-three: "Surrounded by all the world can offer, heir to a dukedom, eldest son of a princely race, he has set his will on nobler things. Kneeling before the crucifix, bathed in tears of devotion, - rapt in ecstasy, seeing and and hearing nothing of this world's pleasures, - God is his one thought and his one desire, and God, even here, is his exceeding great reward."
Now, let's compare all this to moi.
To begin with, in a million years, I can't even imagine myself like one of these saints.
Okay, there have been occasions when something vaguely like what these saints thought managed to pop up into my brain Maybe some word slipped from my lips, or some action I took, might have, by the grace of God, been spoken or taken in an unselfish manner. Since our son died this year, I have thought somewhat about eternal life (St. Augustine) and walking together in Heaven (St. Philip Neri). Still, I can't imagine myself on my death bed ever saying "I see my God!" (St. Anthony), never mind having the courage of St. Agnes, or the "angelic expression of St Stanislaus. And if I had the wealth and privilege of St. Aloysius I fear I'd give God at best a cursory acknowledgement, never mind forsaking all those goodies that wealth brings some people. (Thank God I was born to parents of modest means!)
But those of us who might be in the same boat - the ones who aren't yet saints - can't just shrug our shoulders and and sigh, "Oh well." Remember those "miles to go." With God's grace, we can start walking. And if we keep walking, in time we ever-so-slowly might edge our way closer to embracing and even demonstrating to others the examples of holiness our saints have given us. That's pretty much what life is all about, isn't it? If we're going to work our way to Heaven, we've got to start acting like those who've already gotten there before us.
So before we prepare ourselves for the work week ahead, let's be certain those preparations prioritize our spiritual lives. That schedule you lay out for Monday to Friday needs time for prayer, studying your Catholic religion, reading Scripture and good spiritual works. It might even include a daily rosary and Mass. And do set aside that mere five minutes of quiet contemplative time with God each morning, before we fire ourselves up for the day's work. Who knows, some day those examples from the saints might not seem so out of our grasp as they might seem now.
It'll take some doing. And you'll need to maybe take the things you strive for and value in this world down a peg. But it's not impossible.
"The more spiritual a man becomes, the more real to him are spiritual things, and the more do earthly things become only shadows and phantoms in the light of God."
Happy Sunday!
Comments