Can the desire “to become perfect,” to grow in holiness, be one’s motivation for being ordained a priest? On first consideration, this might seem totally inappropriate, as the priesthood is not given in the first place for a man’s personal perfection, but in order for him to serve Christ, as his representative. Thus, St. Alphonsus, while he describes the right motivation for religious life as “to bind oneself more closely to God, or to correct the transgressions of one’s past life, or to fly from the dangers of the world,” describes the right motivation that is a sign of a vocation to the priesthood differently, saying that one should desire “to serve God, to spread his glory and to save souls.”
This difference between religious life and priesthood, namely that religious life is directly ordered to a personal and real conformity with Christ, to perfection in love of Christ, and thereby to the service of the community and the upbuilding of the Church in love, while the priesthood is directly ordered to a sacramental and representative conformity to Christ, to the service of the community in Christ’s name, is a real difference, and does imply that one’s motivation for the priesthood in a certain sense cannot be primarily for one’s personal perfection in the Christian life.
However, this sharp division (personal perfection in Christian life, service of the Church, etc.) is not the concrete way in which a vocation is usually experienced. The Apostles did not know in all specificity what they were being called to when Christ said, “Come, follow me.” They were attracted by his person or inspired by his mission, and they followed him both to be with him and to accompany him on his mission. In most cases, a person perceiving a vocation cannot define his motivation to embrace that way of life in terms of a very precise single goal. He chooses the way of life as a whole, with all that is included in it.
Now, is a special call to perfection included in the priesthood? It is. John Paul II, in Pastores Dabo Vobis, says that priests “are called not only because they have been baptized, but also and specifically because they are priests, that is, under a new title and in new and different ways deriving from the sacrament of holy orders” (n. 19). And Vatican II says, “Since every priest in his own way represents the person of Christ himself, he is endowed with a special grace. By this grace the priest, through his service of the people committed to his care and all the People of God, is able the better to pursue the perfection of Christ, whose place he takes” (Presbyterorum Ordinis, n. 12). The awareness of this special calling and grace, often concretized by experience of holy priests, can be included in the discernment and decision to offer oneself for the priesthood, to seek ordination. Whatever the special aspects of pristly life that initially attract one to it, what is essential is that it be embraced in its totality. E.g., one person might, prior to any thought of the priesthood, be drawn to celibacy, to devote his life to the things of God, and through this desire come to desire the priesthood in particular. Another person might not at first be particularly drawn to celibacy, and first find his vocation to it in his desire to serve others in the ministerial priesthood, which in the Roman Rite is connected with celibacy. (In this latter case it is nonetheless important that he come to appreciate the proper value of celibacy and to embrace it freely, and not only as a extra obligation he has to submit to in order to be a priest. But that’s matter for another post.) Similarly, the “path to perfection” of the priesthood might be for one person an important aspect of his initial aspect desire for it, while for another person it is not, and only in his desire for and commitment to living a good priestly life that he sees in that way of life his path to perfection.
Source:Priestly vocation, holiness and service
To apply the principles mentioned in the previous posts, of judging doubtful cases positively or favorably, without being negligent to remedy problems (which presupposes at least a tentative judgment), it is helpful to bear several things in mind: (1) our knowledge of ourselves and of others is always limited; (2) there is always some good to be found in everything; (3) recognizing this good is good for ourselves and for others; St. Therese of Lisieux says “We should always judge others with love, for often what seems to us to be negligence, is an heroic deed in God’s sight.” (CS 107) And again:
Yes, I know when I show charity to others, it is simply Jesus acting in me, and the more closely I am united to Him, the more dearly I love my Sisters. If I wish to increase this love in my heart, and the devil tries to bring before me the defects of a Sister, I hasten to look for her virtues, her good motives; I call to mind that though I may have seen her fall once, no doubt she has gained many victories over herself, which in her humility she conceals. It is even possible that what seems to me a fault, may very likely, on account of her good intention, be an act of virtue. I have no difficulty in persuading myself of this, because I have had the same experience. (MsC, 12v/13r)
Regarding the second and third point, the possibility of seeing good in things, and the value of doing so, St. Therese says, speaking about circumstances generally, “I always see the bright side of things. There are people who always take everything from the most painful point of view. I do just the opposite. If I am faced with pure suffering; when heaven is so black that there is no bright spot to be seen anywhere, I then make that itself a source of joy” (DE 215/27.5). And about persons, “There is nothing sweeter than to think well of one’s neighbor,” (CS 25) and “Charity consists in disregarding the faults of our neighbor, not being astonished at the sight of their weakness, but in being edified by the smallest acts of virtue we see them practice.”
Regarding the first point, the limitation of our knowledge, which never extends to a person’s responsibility before God: “Even when there doesn’t seem to be any excuse, we always have the possibility of saying: ‘this person is obviously wrong, but she does not know it.’” (CS 107)
(4) A fourth point to keep in mind: love can be visible even in correcting, rebuking, etc., and we should strive to make it thus visible. St. Therese did not hesitate to speak the truth, even when it was not necessarily pleasant to hear: “I say the whole truth. If someone doesn’t want to hear it, they shouldn’t come to me.” (DE 203/18.4.3) Correcting in a loving manner does not mean that one does so in a “soft” manner, but that one does so not merely for the sake of abstract “rightness,” but of the person one corrects. St. Therese says:
In order that a reprimand bear fruit, we must give it dispassionately. When we have scolded a person, within the bounds of justice, let us stop there and not become soft-hearted, tormenting ourselves because we realize we have inflicted pain on someone. To run after the one we have thus afflicted, to console her, is to do her more harm than good. But when we leave her to herself, we force her to expect nothing from the human side, but to have recourse to the good Lord, recognize her faults, and humble herself. Otherwise we shall make her accustomed to being consoled after we have administered a deserved reproof, and she will then act like a spoiled child which jumps with rage and cries, knowing that this will make his mother come to him and wipe away his tears.I know, my Mother, that your little lambs consider me severe… The little lambs may say what they please. Fundamentally they feel that I love them with a genuine love.
This remark of St. Therese can be taken as complementary to the point mentioned in the previous post about St. Catherine, and the identification and sympathy with a person that helps us to form judgments in the appropriate loving manner. Love and correction are not contraries, as though love were the counterbalance to the correction of another person; rather love is to be shown in the very act of correction, and the act of correction is to be moved by and ordered to love. If that is not possible at a given moment, perhaps because we have strong feelings about an issue, we should if at all possible wait before speaking.
Source:Judging, Part 3 (Therese of Lisieux)
I’ve added Br. Thomas’s description of Seven Principles of the Spiritual Life to the website. The principles, based on the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas and St. Therese of Lisieux, are the following:
1. To keep God in mind at all times.
2. To trust in God as much as possible.
3. To do all things for the love of God.
4. Not to trust in oneself.
5. Not to seek oneself.
6. To do all things with joy.
7. To be as energetic as possible.
The sixth and seventh principles may be a bit of a surprise. Is it even in our power to do things with joy? What does “energy” have to do with spiritual life? Yet St. Paul tells us to “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4), and St. Therese says that energy “is the most necessary virtue; with energy one can easily reach the height of perfection” (LT 178). These and the other principles are explained at greater length in the article. Comments are welcome!
Source:Seven Principles of the Spiritual Life
What is the object of discernment? Does discernment mean only finding what is best among options that are all good? Or does it refer also to distinguishing morally good choices from morally bad choices? As noted previously, Fr. Peter in his article on discerning personal vocation, attributes to discernment only the apprehension or determination of the best out of several good choices.
The meaning of discernment
First we should consider the meaning of the word “discern” and “discernment”. The fundamental meaning of “discern” is to mentally or sensibly distinguish something from others. And of course we should not only distinguish the best choice from other good choices, but should, indeed must distinguish good choices from bad choices. So discernment does include also, as most fundamental, perceiving the difference between what is truly good and what only seems so, between what truly comes from God or leads to him, and that which comes from our selfishness or leads away from God.
Discernment in Scripture
St. Paul also uses the term this way: “solid food is for the mature, for those whose faculties are trained by practice to discern good and evil” (Heb 5:14). In another traditional text linked with discernment, St. John says, “do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are of God” (1 John 4:1). Here the main distinction to be made is not between a spirit that moves one to something good, but not all that good, and a spirit moving one to the best ways of thinking and acting, but the fundamental distinction or discernment to be made is between the good Spirit, the Spirit of God, and an evil or false spirit, which is not from God.
Discernment and Prudence
It is important to bear in mind this general notion of discernment, in order to avoid making it excessively obscure and mystical. Of course, when the question is discerning God’s will, there will always be some mystery, because God himself is a mystery to us, who walk by faith. Nevertheless the connection between discernment and ordinary Christian prudence is important for the practice of discernment. The ordinary means of discernment is prudence enlightened by faith and motivated by charity, the “faith that works through love” (Gal 5:6). The Catechism of the Catholic Church says, “When a prudent man listens to his conscience, he can hear God speaking” (n. 1777). And Vatican II says about priestly vocation: “The voice of the Lord who is calling should not in the least be expected to come to the ears of a future priest in some extraordinary manner. Rather, it is to be understood and discerned by those signs by which the will of God is made known daily to prudent Christians” (Presbyterorum Ordinis, n. 11).
Source:What do we discern
The gospel at a solemn high mass in Easter Week, in which I was the sub-deacon, and two brothers of mine deacon and Master of Ceremonies.
Source:Solemn High Mass
Waiting and watching, in my inner heart’s room–
Vigils and silence, let troubled thoughts cease.
For soon he shall come, as the heavenly groom.
And I must decrease, that he may increase.
At this great mystery, my heart fails within me;
What all-surpassing, wondrous love is this:
Greater than the mountains, deeper than the sea,
When by God’s own word, heaven the earth does kiss.
Mightiest of angels, bearing a great sword
To clear the darkness, darkness of our sin,
Your grace and mercy, upon the world you poured;
From a fallen race, lovers you did win.
Still with the Father, in your Divinity,
Here on this earth, with human feet you trod.
We praise and worship Incarnate Majesty,
Wholly man like us, and yet wholly God!
Source:Christmas poem
This Fourth Sunday of Easter is Good Shepherd Sunday (so called by reason of the Gospel read at Mass today). Pope Paul VI designated Good Shepherd Sunday as a World Day of Prayer for Vocations, and it still remains this. It is a fitting day for vocations on account of the Gospel for the Mass: The Shepherd knows the sheep, and calls them by name, and they hear his voice and follow him.
Pope Benedict XVI, in his message for this day, encourages “faith in the divine initiative”, which should lead to confident prayer for vocations, as well as inspire the human response of trusting self-abandonment to the shepherd who calls. He sets forth Jesus as the supreme model of complete and trusting adherence to the Father’s will, the model to whom every consecrated person must look. Also exemplary is the Blessed Virgin Mary’s generous “Amen” to God’s plan told her through the angel.
Full message at the Vatican website
Source:Vocation Sunday
This post is a follow up to the previous post on judging favorably concerning other persons, the related video on seeing the best in them, and also occasioned by this discussion on another blog.
The fact is, if we are inclined to the more favorable judgment in matters where the truth is unclear, or to the extent that the truth is not perfectly clear, we will also overall be more correct, not less. If someone says something that seems false, we are more likely to understand them correctly if we suppose that they have some reason for saying what they do. Similarly, if we see someone do something that seems bad, and don’t know their intention, it is not only more charitable, but probably more truthful, to suppose that they have some good intention.
Source:Favorable Interpretation
Are we obliged not only to do good, but to do what is best?
As I remarked in a previous post on Fr. Peter’s article on discerning one’s personal vocation, he gives as the first (and least) reason for discernment, that we are obliged to discern what is best.
If God has a preference, am I not obliged to try to discover what it is? After all, his preference is for whatever is best for me… Even though I am only considering morally good options, I should try to find out which one of them is best. Why is this reason the least helpful as a motivation? Since we are considering only morally good options, any failure to discover and choose the best one would not be the matter of a mortal sin [but only a venial sin].
Is it really true, though, that we are obliged to do what is most perfect, so that it is a venial sin to fail to do so? Isn’t the difference between a commandment and a counsel, precisely that the commandment obliges us to do some good (or to refrain from some evil), while a counsel invites us to do something good. “A commandment makes the transgressors of it culpable; counsel only makes such as do not follow it less worthy of praise; those who violate commandments deserve damnation, those who neglect counsels deserve only to be less glorified.” (St. Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God VIII, ch. 6) Of course in a particular situation it may not be appropriate to follow a particular counsel. “God does not want each person to observe all the counsels, but only those that are appropriate to the diversity of persons, times, occasions, and abilities, as charity requires; for it is charity, as queen of all virtues, all commandments, all counsels, and in short, of all laws and all Christian actions, that gives to all of them their rank, order, time, and value.” But supposing that in a particular situation a counsel is more in keeping with love, it seems that then it is still necessary to keep it. If love is commanded without limit, it seems that once we recognize that something is truly the better thing to do, more in keeping with love in a concrete situation, we are obliged to do it.
St. Thomas takes up this difficulty in his commentary on Matthew 19:10, “He who can take it, let him take it” (referring to the counsel of continence). He says, “Isn’t every one bound to keep virginity? It seems so, since man is bound to what is better. In response it should be said that it is not a precept, but a counsel, as the Apostle says in 1 Cor. 7:25, ‘Concerning virgins I do not have a precept from the Lord, but I give counsel.’ But what is this? Isn’t man bound to what is better? I say that one must distinguish that which is better in regard to act, and in regard to affection. Man is not bound to what is better in regard to act, but in regard to affection, since every rule and ever act is determined to something definite and certain; but if a man were bound to what is better, he would be bound to something uncertain. Hence with regard to external acts, since he is not bound to something uncertain, he is not bound to what is better. But as regards affection, he is bound to what is better. Hence one cannot not wish to be always better, without falling into contempt.”
But if someone knowingly fails to do what is better, doesn’t that show a lack of will to become better, to grow in love? St. Thomas says in Quodlibetal I, q. 7, a. 2, “those who are perfect in the sense of having perfect charity are bound by an interior law to do that which is better, a law that binds by way of inclination.” To this we must admit that it does show a weakness of the will to grow in love, but weakness of that will does not mean a simple absence of it. As St. Francis de Sales says, “we may indeed without sin not follow the counsels, on account of the affection we may have to other things… it is lawful for a man not to sell what he possesses to give to the poor, because he has not hte courage to make so complete a renunciation.”
Mortal sin, venial sin, and imperfection
There is a difference, then, between mortal sin, venial sin, and imperfection. A mortal sin means turning away from God, loving something else in a manner incompatible with the love of God above all things, so that one’s life becomes totally directed to something other than God (e.g., pleasure, power, fame) or at least dispersed and no longer centered on God; a venial sin means loving something in a manner that doesn’t quite fit with the love of God, yet is compatible with it–one’s final end remains God, but one is too much attached to something which is a means to God. An imperfection means only choosing something that is not as well directed towards God as something else would have been, choosing something that is a longer and slower way, as it were, towards God–but still a good choice, act, and way towards God.
Source:Commandments and Counsels
Today at our spiritual hour I gave an introduction to the theme of judging (or not), and of the union between truth and love, after which a discussion followed. After I translate my talk into English and clean it up it a bit, I’ll post it (or at least part of it) here. But for today, the feast of St. Catherine of Siena (in English occasionally spelled Sienna), a co-patroness of Europa (St. Benedict is the first patron), I’ll just jot down some points about St. Catherine. I had remarked that the theme of not definitively judging/condemning while at the same time being ready to correct false behavior was illustrated by St. Catherine, who was quite bold even in her correction of the pope, and yet always showed respect for and obedience to him. In the discussion, in response to the question how we can reconcile the problem of avoiding negative judgments of other persons that are contrary to charity, with the necessity of making judgments in order to correct harmful situations, harmful and bad behavior, etc., a piece of advice from St. Catherine of Siena was pointed out. When we are affected by someone’s bad behavior, before we set up seeking to correct it, we should mentally bear the consequences of that bad behavior, in the spirit of Christ, who bore the sins of the world. This identification and sympathy with the person enables one to approach them not as though an enemy, or condescendingly, as to someone beneath oneself, but as a friend in Christ, or one whom one loves that they might be a friend. This fundamental attitude provides a strong basis for making a judgment in the manner necessary, without condemning.
(Image of St. Catherine is from the Church of San Domenico, in Siena, Italy)
Source:Catherine of Siena