The Universal Call to Holiness

I must not put limits on my ability to be virtuous. All that holds me back is my slowness to ask God for help.

What is Truth?

In the ongoing debates over science and religion, a false distinction is often made between the objectivity of science and the subjectivity of religion; such is the prevailing prejudice that people frequently talk of scientific truth even when talking of theories, but any talk of truth in religion must be qualified as 'true' only for a particular group of believers. How can the objective and subjective understandings of truth in modern discourse be reconciled? This is an ongoing challenge.

But it occurred to me yesterday that the following insight may help.

Considering God's perfect Justice and perfect Mercy, which exist in perfect balance, it occurred to me that these two aspects of the Godhead represent objectivity and subjectivity. His Justice corresponds to impersonal objectivity; his Mercy to his consideration for each and every unique human person. As we seek to debate the truths of science and theology, both sides of the debate must seek to imitate God in this way, with perfect justice guiding our search for the truth, and perfect mercy guiding how we treat our opponents. Only thus will harmony be found.

The News Media and the Gospel

The psalmist [Ps 112] says that we should not fear 'evil news' - an important lesson in an age obsessed with current affairs! This phrase 'evil news' is the opposite of the 'good news' or 'gospel' of Jesus Christ; so for us as Christians there is a clear imperative not to let 'evil news' dominate us, leading us into fear and despair (as it so often can these days) but rather to ensure that we keep that 'good news' ever before our eyes, to form us in the virtue of hope.

Co-creating the body of Christ

The nuptial aspect of the Mass, and the Eucharistic aspect of the sacrament of marriage, became clear to me all of a sudden last Sunday. The priest's prayer over the gifts 'that they may become the Body of Christ' has an extended resonance in Mass celebrated facing West, suggesting also the transsubstantiation of the faithful into the 'body of Christ' in its other, ecclesial sense.

But for the first time it really struck me how this relates to the procreative marital act. Sex is holy precisely because it builds up, co-creates, the body of Christ. There is an intimate link then between that nuptial, procreative mystery on the altar, and the faithful, Eucharistic and priestly action of the married Christian couple in the marital embrace.

All the more reason then for married couples to remain faithful to the sacrament they share, lest the purity of their sexual love becomes adulterated; and for priests for their part to say Mass with a devout spousal love for the Church and a fatherly love for the children they raise for God through the sacraments.

A flood of grace during Benediction

Yesterday at Benediction I experienced a remarkable grace. As I looked up, the priest moved his arm downwards for the first part of the Benediction with such deliberate gravity that I was deeply moved, suddenly sensing inwardly the astounding reality of the Incarnation and of its continuation through the Sacrament held in blessing over me.

As the priest continued the motion to complete the sign of the cross, I further intuited how the suffering represented by the completed symbol of the cross is the completion of that first movement of God in the Incarnation.

All this in a moment which left me deeply moved and so flooded with grace that I was suddenly warm all over and had to remove my coat.

How extraordinary are God's graces that come to us when we least expect them and through the most unlikely means!

The Rosary: the world in your hands

 As you pray the Rosary, hold each bead gently but firmly, remembering that you are holding the whole world in your fingertips. Consider that within that tiny globe is the fate of all mankind, for good or for ill. For just as the sin of one became the sin of all, so does the faithful love of one become the salvation of all.
So pray with attentiveness and do not fear 'evil news' (psalm 112).

Aldham, St Mary's

The tower's old-hewed flint
Shone warm in my memories' Autumn sun.
Up here my soul was formed
Here on this antique mound swelled with the dead
His radiance first broke in.

From Saxon coffin lid
And polished pews once carved by roughened hand
The gospel words first danced
In sunlight sparkled through by diamond window pane.
Here Jesus came to me.

And is it true? These words
In cold quiet air on church-topped, wind-topped hill
First terrified me so.
Were these the times of the Apocalypse long-dread?
Were we near, unawares?

And I talked to that space
That drew the eye, twixt table and cross, 'neath bi-fold panes
The absent presence of God
His lingering, merciful echo, calling me then,
Rang down through centuries dead.

I wanted more than here,
These whitewashed stones, these wooden ranks that once were full,
When Lord of earth and sky
Was venerated and his Sabbath kept secure,
His just dues paid with prayers.

I was called away to more.
The thick wood set in its frame once more, the latch dropped,
The wind stirred, the still spoke.
The names that rose from crumbled stone spoke stillness.
Silence slipped into my soul.

Far from the rabbit's sprint,
The dark crows' wheeling, the spike of sheltering thornbush,
The sheen of winter green,
In a city of stony hearts and steepled minds
I sinned; yet found my faith.

Aldham, ne'er quite forgot,
Fell far from view, its promise done, its purpose filled.
Life wheeled ever on.
Not so for her: my mother ever true stayed with these stones
And now they stay with her.

The north side's wind blows cold.
Fresh flowers here, and photocopied verse attached,
Break death's hushed silence.
So vivid green, the fresh-cropped grass that holds my tears,
That damps my mourning knee.

The sun shines on for now.
In hedgerows near and far, life and death turn onwards.
So must it be. The pain
Of separation now, the joy of union found:
These all to memories turn.

And turn again. This green mound
On which Christ sat within St Mary's heart is pregnant now;
She mourns no more her dead.
The plague-black homes which crowded once her skirts lie still and green.
This crop of souls awaits
The final trump
The happy throng
The endless day.

And Mum's soul too
With secret smile
Will rise today.

On the Cross

Nulla dies sine cruce! No day without its cross!

This spiritual truth was recognised by St Josemaria Escriva, whose biography I recently read. This is one of the things that stayed with me after reading it. It is a transformative realisation: the natural human tendency is to flee from suffering - to minimise it at least.

Yet the Christian seeks to follow Christ who said, "If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me". This is a radically unnatural thing to do: to accept suffering and see it as spiritually beneficial.

Yet the saints have always lived this mystery at a deeper level: not simply accepting the suffering given, but joyfully embracing it! Once one realises that suffering is not meaningless and destructive but unites one to Christ's cross and hence calls down graces upon us, our reaction is transformed from sorrow into joy.

Fortified by this realisation, it has now become my daily custom to greet my cross joyfully, as an old friend, when first I encounter it: "Hello, cross!" Nothing gives me more joy and serenity in the midst of daily life than this simple act of joyfully acknowledging that Christ is constantly offering me this means of grace, this flowering cross, this abundantly fruitful tree of life.

Serviam!

May God be glorified through these worthless words of mine.

May these words written in silence model me after the heart of St Joseph, holy, humble, hidden, sanctified through proximity to Jesus and Mary.

To the reader: these words are less for you than for me, that they might be a form of prayer for me, that they might express the love of God that wells up inside me. Since they come from within they must necessarily remain anonymous, following the command of Our Lord that he would pray must retire to his room and pray in secret.

The words I wish to share - which humility pulls me back from sharing, and yet nevertheless I feel called to share in some way - will draw on the inspirations I have been given in the course of a busy daily life, most often from meditating on the Rosary. One of my chief goals in writing this blog is to put into writing, at last, certain inspirations I have found which for me have given greater depth to this familiar prayer.

I must acknowledge at the outset my deep gratitude to the late Pope John Paul II of blessed memory for the inspiration he gave me through Rosarium Virginis Mariae, in which the Luminous Mysteries of the Rosary were first presented to the world, and after which I have named this blog.