More About That "Greatest Tool"

To recap, we're talking about the "Greatest Tool" we can use to help us work our way through this mess - both what's going on now, and what's likely coming. Our spiritual life, specifically our Interior Life, will be that tool.

We ended last week's discussion by posing 3 quesitons:

• If I believe that I love God, on what do I base that belief?  
  
• How much do I love God? 
• How much do I want to love God? 

We posed those questions when we tried to get to the real meat and potatoes of the spiritual life. How many prayers we say, whether we spend time reading of Scripture and spiritual works, study our Catholic religion, take time to meditate, attend daily Mass, say the rosary, etc. may be considered external manifestations of a strong spiritual life. But without serious substantive answers to those questions, our activity can easily become rote, even superficial. Repetitive actions, without a deep and abiding love of God, won't guarantee progress. Let's try to answer the questions now. 

To be sure, we're not going to provide "definitive" answers here. Each of us - as an individual - needs to consider each question individually. We're all created in the image and likeness of God, but each of us is a unique, once-in-eternity creature. The relationship we have with God must be a personal one. God is a Person - actually Three Persons - and so our relationship naturally should be person to Person.

(By the way, there's nothing magical about these questions. They're just my attempt to force myself to confront where I stand in my personal relationship with God. So consider them with that in mind. You may have other questions that make more sense to you. But for now, we'll go with mine.)

If I believe that I love God, on what do I base that belief?

I always loved God - in some fashion. As a kid, I was taught my Catholic Religion in a relatively straightforward, faithful manner. Not perfectly, mind you; but a whole heck of a lot better than what's being fed to many of our kids these days. 

The Ten Commandments, the Catechism, the Real Presence, Transubstantiation - and so much more - all found a settled place in my mind and heart. I both knew what these were, and I conducted myself - somewhat - in a fashion consistent with that knowledge. As an altar boy serving the Traditional Latin Mass and a choir boy singing authentic, traditional Catholic chant and hymns, a fair chunk of my time was spent before the Blessed Sacrament. I still remember the reverence and awe I experienced as I knelt before the Monstrance during my time keeping Our Lord company at Forty Hours Devotion. 

I could maybe base my belief that I love God on that if it weren't for the fact that...

That initial conscientious practice of my Catholic Religion, sadly, dissipated for a while (too long!). It wasn't some sudden rejection of my Faith, but a process that began as I grew older and the distraction and attraction of the world, the flesh, and the devil crowded out my former devotion. By the time I got to a Jesuit High School, I was probably the typical teenager going through, well, whatever it is teen age boys go through. I was ripe for the anchor a traditional Jesuit education would have provided - except that, by then, the Jesuits of old had already begun to morph into the Jesuits of today. Instead of an anchor, my little boat was shoved out into the ocean without a bearing or clear destination. Wherever the wind blew, that's where it sailed.

Before I blame the Jesuits alone for my distressing rejection of my traditional Catholic Faith, I must note that not all my classmates drank the modernist Kook-Aid the younger Jesuits had begun serving during the 1960's and 1970's. But many, if not most, did.

Let's stop the story there. The point of it is to show that what marked the basis of my belief - knowledge really - that I loved God no longer applied. 

Fast-forward to the years when I emerged from my aimless sailing. I started practicing my Faith again, in fits and starts. Sadly, the Catholic surroundings that marked my first "tour" weren't there; lacking as well was the unfettered and relatively untainted enthusiasm that marked my youth. So the rebuilding process took on a life of its own. That process included a return to Confession, Mass, regular Holy Communion and a relatively disciplined practice of so-called norms of piety (read Scripture and spiritual works, study our Catholic religion, take time to meditate, attend daily Mass, say the rosary, etc.)

And so, at some point, I thought I was now an authentic, practicing Catholic. But did I believe that I loved  God? And, if so, were my spiritual activities the basis of that belief? 

Frankly, while I understood the words, I really had not seriously considered what it meant to love God. Neither did I realize that the love of God should be the foundation of all my efforts. I wanted to be faithful, to practice my Catholic Religion in an authentic manner; but I acted mostly out of a sense of duty and/or obligation. I was obliged to attend Mass on Sunday and Holy Days of Obligation. Eventually I regularly went to Confession, began attending Mass during the week - and on and on it went. The spiritual "slots" were being filled. But eventually, with continued reading good spiritual works along with thoughtful consideration of what I read, I realized that the building up of all those devotions sat on a wobbly frame. Rather than all those activities, the firm foundation of our spiritual life must be love of God.

With this understanding, it had become clear that what I had based my belief that I loved God on didn't make the grade. Thus began - and continues - the process of building that firm foundation. Next question.

How much do I love God?

Does all this mean the answer to this question must be "Not at all"? Not at all! If the bad news was that I didn't love God as much as I had thought, in the way I ought, there was good news too. To best understand and appreciate just how good this good news was and is, I'll compare what I was facing in my spiritual life to what I face in my business.

On any given day, I may feel good, bad (physically, emotionally), indifferent, confused, disturbed, joyful, even elated, etc. In other words, the entire palette of human emotion accompanies me as I plow my trade. I suspect this may apply to many if not most of us. But if I relied on feelings - whether in the moment or at the beginning or end of any given work day - to gauge how my business was doing, well, you can only imagine what a chaotic, unstable work life would ensue. So here's what I do:

I begin the day with a specific intention, expressed in a prayer to the co-patron saints of my business. It goes like this:

"Dear Saint Ignatius of Loyola and Saint Joan of Arc, by your intercession may I work this day for the greater glory of God, the welfare of my family, the benefit of my clients and customers, and the common good." 

Whether at the end of the day, or any other time, I can refer to this intention to gauge and/or grade my efforts. Were my actions consistent with my intention? 

Of course, I have practical metrics I track to see how the business is doing. These include tracking revenue and expenses each week, summarizing this each month, annually reviewing the numbers and the individual clients we serve annually. But without fulfilling - or attempting to fulfill - my intention expressed in that prayer, my work really wouldn't be worth a dime, no matter what the financial reports tell me.

The same thing applies to our spiritual life. We'll see how next time.