|
Embracing Christ and the Cross
What Does it Mean?
By Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira
An
authentic piety penetrates every recess of our souls, naturally
stirring our most intimate emotions. Piety, however, is far
more than feelings. It arises deep within ourselves from
our knowledge of the truths that govern an interior life
formed in accord with the Faith. To be sure, these life-giving
truths are often acquired through diligent and disciplined
study, but intelligence, like emotion, is an inadequate foundation
for piety, which also resides in the will.
Thus we must desire to live the truths we
know. It is not sufficient to understand that God is perfect,
for example. We must also love His perfection and desire
to have some share in it; we must aspire to sanctity.
To desire is not simply to entertain vague
notions or feelings. We truly desire something only when
we are ready to make every sacrifice necessary to attain
it.
Without the
will to sacrifice, our pious
desires are but vain illusions. Tender contemplations
of divine truths and sacred mysteries are sterile seeds if
they do not bear fruit in firm resolutions to live our faith.
Meditating on the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ
is a praiseworthy devotion, but we must follow the Way of
the Cross in our lives as well as in our churches. We must
give Our Lord sincere proofs during these days of our devotion
and love, amending our lives and fighting with all our strength
in defense of the Holy Catholic Church.
Why persecutest
thou Me?
When
Our Lord confronted Saint Paul on the road to Damascus, He
asked him, Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me? (Acts
9:4). Since Saul was persecuting the Church, Our Lords
words make it clear that to persecute Christs Church
is to persecute Christ Himself, for the Church is the Mystical
Body of Christ.
If the Church is persecuted
today, then Christ is persecuted, and Our Lords Passion is being
relived in our days. Every act that draws a soul away from
the Church persecutes Christ. To separate a soul from the
Church is to amputate a member of the Mystical Body of which
Our Lord Jesus Christ is the Head. To wrench a soul from
the Church is like chopping off Our Lords hand, severing
His leg, pulling out His eye.
Therefore, if we desire to identify with
the Passion of Christ, let us indeed meditate on His sufferings
at the hands of His persecutors nearly 2,000 years ago, but
let us not forget to consider all that is being done to inflict
the same wounds on His Mystical Body today.
Above all, let us not fail to examine our
own acts of indifference, cowardice, and betrayal. While
His sacred blood mingled with the dirt during His agony in
the garden, Our Lord foresaw the sins of all men of all times.
He saw our sins and suffered for each one of them. In the
Garden of Olives we were present with Christ as executioners
and, as such, we accompanied His bloodstained steps to the
heights of Golgotha.
Behold the suffering of Holy Mother Church
mocked and jeered before our jaded eyes. She stands before
us as Our Lord once stood before Veronica. Let us console
the Church by defending Her whatever the cost. In doing so,
we will be consoling Christ as Veronica did.
How many souls will lose their faith?
Certain truths about God and our supernatural
end we can learn by using the reason He has given us. Because
our reason has been clouded by sin, however, we can know
other truths only because God has taught us. In His infinite
goodness, He has revealed them to us in the Old and New Testaments.
Our belief in Revelation
is grounded in the virtue of faith. Without faith there
is no salvation,
but no one can make an act of faith without the supernatural
help of Gods grace. God offers this grace to all men,
but He showers it in torrential abundance on the members
of His Mystical Body, the Church. Through faith, the Holy
Ghost dwells within us, sanctifying our bodies as His holy
temple (cf. 1 Cor. 6:19). To abandon the Faith is to reject
the Holy Ghost, to expel Jesus Christ from our souls.
Yet, around us we
see many Catholics who have rejected the Faith. They were
baptized, but in the course
of time they lost their faith. Alas, they suffered this loss
through their own fault, for howsoever enticed by others,
no one loses his faith without mortal fault. Behold them,
indifferent and hostile, thinking, feeling, and living like
pagans. They may be our relatives, our neighbors, perhaps
even our friends. Their disgrace is immense. The mark
of their baptism is indelible. Marked for heaven, they are
bound for hell. The blood of Christ has been sprinkled on
their souls, and no one can efface it, yet they defile it
by adopting principles and norms that violate the doctrines
of Christs Church.
And we? Are we troubled? Are we concerned?
Does this pain us? Do we pray for their conversion? Make
reparation? Are we apostolic? Where is our counseling? Our
argumentation? Our charity? Where is our fearless and energetic
defense of the truths that they deny or insult?
The Sacred Heart of Jesus bleeds because
of this. It bleeds for the apostasies of these souls and
for our indifference, an indifference that is twice guilty
because it is indifferent to our neighbor and, first and
foremost, to God.
How many souls around the world are losing
their faith? Consider the endless numbers of impious newspapers
and magazines, broadcasts and films, that flood the world
daily. Consider the innumerable workers of Satan who, in
academia, in the bosom of the family, in meeting rooms, in
places of entertainment, propagate impious ideas. The consequences
are before us. Institutions, customs, and art are becoming
ever more de-Christianized, an undeniable indication that
the entire world is losing God.
Is there not some great scheme in all of
this? Can so many articulate and uniform methods, united
in their objectives and development, be merely coincidental?
Since when have spontaneous motions concertedly produced
the most complete, organized, extensive, ingenious, and formidable
ideological offensive in history, fully consistent in its
essence, its goals, and its development?
We dont think about it. We dont
even perceive it. We sleep the heavy sleep of our daily lives.
Why are we not more vigilant? The Church suffers greatly,
but alone. Far from Her, very far from Her, we slumber. The
scene in the Garden of Olives is repeated.
Could
you not watch one hour with Me?
We, thanks be to God, still profess the
Faith that so many have abandoned and betrayed.
But what use do we
make of it? Do we love it? Do we understand that our greatest
happiness in life
consists in being members of the holy Church, that our greatest
glory is the title of Christian? If we respond in the affirmative and
how rare are those who, in good conscience, could so respond are
we ready to make every sacrifice in order to preserve our
faith?
Before answering with
a romantic yes, let us take a moment to examine our consciences
honestly. Do
we ever seek occasions that might put our faith at risk?
Do we enjoy worldly pleasures that are at best indifferent
to it? Do we read or view materials that violate its standards?
Do we welcome the company of those who disregard or even
disparage it?
By virtue of their
instinct of sociability, all men are prone to conform to
popular opinion, to accept
the conventional wisdom around them. Todays dominant
opinions contravene the teachings of the Church in philosophy,
sociology, history, science, art ultimately, in everything.
Our friends quite likely follow the trend. Do we have the
courage to stand against it? Do we guard our hearts against
any penetration of erroneous ideas? Are we of one mind with
the Church in everything? Or are we content with negligently
going about our business, taking in everything the spirit
of the times instills simply because it instills it?
Perhaps we have not expelled Our Lord from
our souls, but how do we treat this Divine Guest? Is He the
object of all our attention, the center of our intellectual,
moral, and affective life? Is He our King? Or do we allot
Him only a small space where He is tolerated as a secondary
guest, a rather uninteresting and inconvenient guest?
When the Divine Master groaned, wept, and
sweat blood during His Passion, He was tormented not solely
by physical sorrows, nor just those sufferings occasioned
by the hatred of those who persecuted Him then. He was also
tormented by everything that we would do against Him and
the Church in the coming centuries. He wept because of the
hatred of all the evil men, every Arius, Nestorius, and Luther.
But He also wept foreseeing the unending procession of lukewarm
souls, apathetic souls, that, while not persecuting Him,
do not love Him as they ought.
This is the innumerable
multitude of those who spend their lives neither hating
nor loving and who,
according to Dante, remain at the gates of Hell because not
even Hell has sufficient place for them. Are we among these?
This is the great question that with Gods grace we
must answer in the days of recollection, piety, and expiation
we are about to enter.
|