Some Practical Lessons of Historical Spirituality
Basil Cole, O.P.
Several years ago, I had the joy of teaching the sisters
from all over the world at the Regina Mundi Institute in
Rome, a course on the history of spirituality. As any
instructor knows, when we teach, we seem to learn more than
the students. It appeared to me as the course was drawing
to a close that some basic principles were emerging, which
were not very flattering to theologians or persons aspiring
to live a deep spiritual life.
If secular history teaches us anything, it teaches us that
people and their leaders repeat the similar blunders
throughout the centuries with or without a knowledge of
history. Sacred history produces a more interesting
knowledge of mistakes for believers which have greater
consequences than the bad decisions of secular history. By
reading both primary and secondary sources, I was able to
fathom some, but certainly not all, of those principles
which are violated and ignored down through the ages of the
Church.
Much of the dynamism of the Church's spirituality came from
the monks, other religious families and bishops because they
specialized so much in the work of consciously growing in
virtue. Likewise, they thought a great deal about what it
means to seek God and love him deeply both in the
contemplative and apostolic poles of their lives. The
reader, then, should not get the impression that this
particular religious is simply trying to blow his own horn
to the detriment of other ways of life.
<Special Times: Special People Needed>
The Holy Spirit is called by Pope Pius XII, among others, in
his classic encyclical letter, <Mystici Corporis>, the
quasi-soul of the Church. When the Church needs
revitalizing, God raises up saintly people and thinkers to
challenge the Church and the people living within her bosom.
In essence, the history of spirituality is the study of how
this living presence of the Holy Spirit stirs up both the
likeliest and un-likeliest people in interesting or ordinary
ways (think of St. Anthony of the desert, or the hermit St.
Romuald, both of whom ran away from the world only to change
some of its orientations; study St. Charles Borromeo who was
ordained at a very early age for the flimsiest reasons and
became an ardent reformer and promoter of the decrees of
Trent).
Since the Church is part of the world order yet above it,
she is always faced with some kind of turmoil be it
political, cultural, moral and the like. By facing and
living with each crisis, she learns and grows in
understanding of the meaning of her message either
speculatively (Arianism) or practically (Pelagianism) and
how even more effectively to hand on the deposit of faith
(Iconoclasm). Because the faith is so mysterious being
light and darkness, the Church always appears (and sometimes
is) late in trying to apply the message of Christ to new
situations (Vatican II's theology of the laity had begun in
the nineteenth century with St. Vincent Pallotti, who in
many ways anticipated Catholic action). And new challenges
cause her to reflect and see new treasures in the faith
itself (see the Council of Ephesus teaching that Mary is the
Mother of God). St. Thomas and Yves Congar also come to
mind. The Angelic Doctor almost singlehandedly forced the
Church in the thirteen century and afterwards to confront a
new philosophical analysis of reality. In the twentieth
century we find Congar among others helping the Church
understand herself as a life and institution called to
ecumenism, communion and that the laity also build up and
participate in the mission of the Church.
The difficulty, it goes without saying, is that what is
lasting and profound from classic spiritual authors is
generally never read very deeply by the many (with some
exceptions, the Bible among others). And if read, these
works are either misunderstood, disagreed with or simply not
put into practice by laity and theologians alike. Part of
the problem seems to be human nature's inertia or its desire
for novelty. And what may be popular for a time becomes
just as easily forgotten and perhaps a small footnote to the
history of theology, if that.
<Two Different Variations>
There will always be two extremes in both the institutional
side of the Church and in the prophetic side, religious
life. The latter is both a mirror of the holiness of the
Church itself and the school of perfection par excellence.
We find moral laxity within the members of the hierarchy and
religious life itself at one extreme (corrupt monasticism or
jolly friars, worldly popes and cardinals of the early
Renaissance). And at the other pole, we find moral
rigorists (Savanorola, the Franciscan Spirituals and the
Jansenists). Those located on the former pole will try to
seek exceptions not only from fundamental moral principles
(Henry the Eighth, Radical Moral Dissenters of today) but
will want an easier and more comfortable way to be with God
(Quietists). On the other hand, there will be some who will
want to be hard and disciplined on themselves (Carthusians
and Trappists). It is also a temptation to be harder on
others (Albigensians, Cathari) in the hopes that the more
imposed strictness will necessarily produce more perfection.
Some like the worst of the desert fathers seem to think that
the more one is austere for austerity's sake, the more one
will necessarily love God and neighbor, since one is trying
and perhaps succeeding in one's own mind to prove one's love
for God. Besides this problem, the sense of austere zeal is
felt by some groups to keep alive both the strong identity
and self-importance of the organization.
Observing the easy going religious communities in artistic
representations, we find that they at least have smiles on
their faces while the opposite types or highly stern look
much like worn out joggers running for miles in their
ascetic ways (portraits of Savanorola). Rarely do we find
that balance between the two (strictness and leniency
leading to joyful tolerance _ St. Philip Neri, Sts. Dominic
and Francis). Human nature does not understand very well
how to compromise or temper the accidentals which may lead
to holiness but not always and at the same time keep to
essentials which usually lead to holiness (prayer,
sacraments and the like). A similar problem occurs with
missionary movements unable to separate Christianization
from Europeanization. Or, working with the poor, instead of
subordinating human development to divine salvation, we find
the exponents of radical liberation theology subordinating
the very notion of the Gospel itself to the legitimate and
sometimes confusing demands of the poor. Once again, the
part is taken for the whole.
<Solutions Appear to be More Problems for Some in Authority>
When there are unusual crises in the Church and needs to be
met, certain men and women will arise (not always on time
however) to meet those needs (post-Tridentine religious
communities, the rise of active women's congregations).
Unfortunately, they may not always be understood by the
hierarchy, nor their lifestyle accepted for many generations
to come (St. Angela Merici), if ever, and perhaps never
understood (St. Benedict Joseph Labre). This clearly
happened with St. Joseph, the husband of Mary who took care
of the special needs of both Jesus and Mary and nearly wound
up in oblivion and still is on the fringes of day to day
Catholic life.
It is never easy to face problems head on, analyze them and
try to get something done creatively which moves others
(Msgr. Escriva's words on mystical wishful thinking are on
target here). The vast majority of the leaders in the
Church tend to keep to the standard ideas and methods or
worse, keep their heads in the sand (the Church just before
the Reformation) by compromising (some bishops today who may
be silent before radical dissent, thinking it merely to be a
subtle argument among a few theologians).
Contrary to the illusions of some, no one religious family
can be said to be the last word or the most important group
in the life of the Church. Many are very much alike and we
can easily find elements common to all. New religious or
lay families (<Opus Dei, Communione e Liberatione>) rise up
by the power of the Holy Spirit as old ones decay or as new
founders see new solutions to old needs (St. Dominic, St.
Ignatius, St. Vincent de Paul, St. Louise de Marillac, St.
Elizabeth Ann Seton, Mother Cabrini). Because of the sins
and blind spots and eventual irrelevancy of those leading
and living within the older institutes, newer communities
find a means of touching the world's problems in more
original ways (Mother Teresa, Little Brothers and Sisters of
Jesus who follow the spirit of Charles de Foucauld).
Sometimes, these newer (and alive older) religious
communities discover a simpler way to reach both God's heart
and mankind's conscience (Little Sisters of the Poor, early
Dominicans fostering the rosary).
<Variations on a Theme>
Because human beings are so unique and the mysteries of
Christ are inexhaustible, there have been and will be many
different schools of spirituality flowing either from
religious communities or individual saints (whose followers
sometimes compete against each other rather than complement
each other by their differences of outlook). These schools
emphasize different aspects of Christ (the heart _ Eudists;
the sufferings _ Passionists and Redemptorists; the
Eucharistic presence _ Society of the Blessed Sacrament
Fathers; the prayer of Christ _ the Carmelites) or Mary
(Servites, Marianists) or Joseph (Oblates of St. Joseph,
Josephites), and different ways of prayer (meditation,
contemplation, affective, vocal, liturgical, etc.). They
differ as flowers differ, using slightly different or even
sometimes major different means (fasting for purely
contemplatives, obedience for Jesuits, study of sacred
doctrine for Dominicans) to achieve growth in union with
God. Or, they may approach the same means common to most
with a few different ideas in mind (from the Eucharist for
the Pink Sisters and the Liturgy of the Hours for monks).
Whatever the case may be, all schools eventually meet with
what is the primary end of all: to grow in deep union with
God by the supernatural theological virtues of faith, hope,
and charity. But each religious family or association will
emphasize certain other moral virtues differently with
varying nuances (love of poverty for St. Francis, love of
fasting and abstinence for the Minims), depending upon the
secondary goals of the works of the apostolate (fraternal
charity for handicapped in Jean Varnier's L'Arche), whether
they be the corporal or spiritual works of mercy.
<Spiritual Theology in Seminary Training>
By now it should be evident that the study of spirituality
will always be necessary in the life of the Church because
there will always be individuals in the Church who thirst
for holiness and want to give themselves completely to God
but find the process confusing. But ignorance of this
science in whole or in part will usually be rampant among
the clergy which in turn will permit many of the Christian
faithful to have false beginnings and continue into faulty
projects for the salvation of souls. The ordinary Church
administration will rationalize and claim that it wants to
save as many souls as possible as a higher priority than
help a certain few achieve holiness. The thinking is best
summarized in the following manner: it is God's business to
raise up saints and give them extraordinary graces and it is
our work to help the rest (the silent majority really) who
really are not all that interested in developing the
perfection of theological and moral virtue. Spiritual
theology, therefore, will always appear to be a luxury as
most people do not want to know how the saints found,
pleased and grew in the love of God, much less study the
theologians who have analyzed their writings. They may
simply be satisfied with their own comfortable (and
sometimes unsuccessful) way of avoiding grave sin.
Likewise, it will usually seem to be better to those in
lower levels of authority that clerical candidates
preferably study who and what God is, what grace is and who
and where to get it, and finally, what are the fundamental
principles of morality. For those in religious life, it is
also generally thought better to preoccupy the younger
members in formation with the history, customs and skills of
the apostolate. But in both cases of clerics or religious
the more important questions of how to advance in the art of
prayer, and how to give oneself to others and advance in the
virtues may often be given a low priority. Many formation
directors in general may tend to think the latter questions
will take care of themselves if the former are pursued.
Contemplation is for contemplatives, ordinary prayer is for
the rest. The less one is absorbed with the indwelling of
the Trinity and the providence of God, the more one can be
preoccupied with the problems of solving the world crises,
doing the works of the apostolate, effectively and
efficiently. Yet the history of the Church shows that some
of the most creative and original apostolates came from
those who occupied a goodly part of their lives in
contemplation (St. Catherine of Sienna, St. Bernard of
Clairvaux, and St. Vincent Ferrer). Notwithstanding all
these resistances, spirituality, the crown of theology, will
usually be more than a course of studies in a seminary but
relegated to a minor position.
<Obstacles and Misunderstandings Among Apostles>
There is a catch in the above two paragraphs. If priests or
religious become interested in mysticism, prayer and
conscious union with God, they may become absorbed in
spiritual means and become less and less interested in the
works of the apostolate. The joys of prayer, liturgy,
study, and spiritual conferences may paradoxically smother
their desire for the salvation of souls. Like some
ascetical practices, the very delightful means can become an
end competing with God Himself. Just as it is usually very
difficult to believe that God can communicate his greatest
graces in pain, trial and mortification, likewise the
consolations of prayer seem to be more inviting than the
dark nights of the senses and the spirit. Or, the joys of
the routine of the apostolate may keep one from examining
his or her own lifestyle for illusory desires. In other
words, the true lessons of St. John of the Cross about the
cross are easily forgotten.
Another law of spiritual theology's history is that
normally, popularity and favor by one's higher superiors do
not guarantee the long range success of one's self or
institute either in the spiritual life or even the apostolic
life. St. Dominic and St. Thomas Aquinas were highly
thought of by the Holy See but bishops wanted them and their
ideas banned. St. Ignatius was imprisoned by the Dominicans
for his novel ways of teaching catechism. St. Pius V (a
Dominican) wanted to impose common prayer of the divine
office on the Company of Jesus but died probably as a result
of the litanies of Ignatius and his company to spare them of
becoming like monks or friars. The Church has had her
greats (Basil, Gregory, Leo, and Albert), but more
importantly, she has had her hidden ones whom people tended
to ignore, much less fawn over or curry their favor. Most
of the saints of the last two hundred years seemed to be
ordinary, and if they did not have great difficulties or the
obstacles of heavy crosses from possessing the offices of
priesthood or episcopacy, they managed to turn the daily
grind itself into a means of holiness with great enthusiasm
(St. Ther�se, St. Benilde and many Christian Brother saints
and blesseds).
Turning to the apostolate of catechetics and theology
classes, it is always much easier to foster hatred of sin
than love of virtue, or to piously tell the Christian
faithful what they are forbidden than what they should
pursue in a positive way under the specious guise that
virtue and self-integration are for the professionals of
spirituality. But the trouble with such perspectives is
that it leads to sad sacks, depressives and loners hating
evil but unable to challenge their world to excellence.
One final observation is in order. It will usually be
taught in the great institutes of spirituality and now by
the Congregation of Doctrine and Faith (see <Letter to the
Bishops of the Catholic Church on Some Aspects of Christian
Meditation>, especially footnote #29) that extraordinary
charisms, experiencing extraordinary extra-sensory phenomena
are not the essence of the spiritual life, nor the heart of
holiness but its very occasional periphery (if not most
often illusory). However, most people do not believe this,
whether they study these treatises or not. Deep down in
every one of us is a disorderly desire for the unusual and
the extraordinary. When and if we may witness others who
claim to be filled with these things (private revelations,
bleeding wounds and the like), it brings to us the pleasure
of consolation and fascination regardless of the reality.
It takes great discipline of mind to look skeptically at
them and if one is inclined to want such phenomena, a very
courageous strength of will to renounce such desires. A
similar problem occurs in art where the artistry of the
performer may cause such admiration of the technique in the
beholder that it dims one's real appreciation of the beauty
of the product, be it music or painting.
<Final Observations>
Any cursory study of the history of spirituality shows the
rich positive fruits of holiness in the life of the whole
Church. It also points out the negative results of
abandoning the discovered laws of growth found in the lives
and writings of the approved authors and saints. Knowledge
of this science should help us acquire a more sober and
thoughtful approach to the Tri-personal God. A firm and
lived grasp of its principles should not cause us to
jettison its conclusions too quickly, nor leave us
comfortable with ourselves, nor stonewall a movement of
repentance or apostolate (from within an institute of
consecrated life, diocese or from the Christian faithful)
that may very well be from Holy Spirit. While authentic
spiritual movements are always based upon the received faith
of the Catholic Church, at the same time, there is also a
certain depth of humility, reverence and obedience to the
hierarchy on the part of those prophets among us. Normally,
if ever, they hardly think of themselves as special or much
less apart from or higher than the Christian faithful. They
see into the same faith something new as well as ancient
that others have yet to perceive. On another level, even
bishops and priests as the leaders of the Church are not
exempt from these rules of humility, obedience and reverence
as they try to apply the living faith to their people. They
must see in Peter's successor someone else besides
themselves who is called to preside and govern over them as
well as be their brother.
Rev. Basil Cole, O.P. was educated at the University of San
Francisco, St. Albert's College in Oakland, and le Saul-
choir, France.
This article was taken from the Summer 1990 issue of "Faith
& Reason". Subscriptions available from Christendom Press,
2101 Shenandoah Shores Road, Ft. Royal, VA 22630, 703-636-
2900, Fax 703-636-1655. Published quarterly at $20.00 per
year.
Copyright (c) 1996 EWTN
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