PROVIDENCE

BY

Fr. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P.

FOREWORD

Having treated elsewhere of God  and of providence  from a purely
speculative point of view, we here resume the consideration of these
great questions in their relation to the spiritual life. The primary
object of contemplation is, in fact, God Himself and His infinite
perfections, especially His goodness, His wisdom, and His providence.
Our activity and our progress toward eternity must be directed from
the higher plane of this contemplation. From this point of view we
shall treat here: (1) of the existence of God and of His providence;
(2) of those perfections of God which His providence presupposes; (3)
of providence itself according to the Old and New Testaments; (4) of a
trusting self-abandonment to God's providence; (5) of providence in
its relation to justice and mercy.

May these pages instill in the minds of those who read them a better
understanding of God's infinite majesty and the absolute value of the
one thing necessary, our last end and sanctification. Their chief aim
will be to insist on the absolute and supremely life-giving character
of the truth revealed by our Lord Jesus Christ and infallibly proposed
to us by the Church. Souls are perishing in the ever-shifting sands of
the relative; it is the absolute they need. Nowhere will they find it
but in the Gospel entrusted by Jesus Christ to His Church, which has
preserved, taught, and expounded it. It has been exemplified in the
lives of the best of her children.

TRANSLATORS PREFACE

In these days of positive unbelief, agnosticism, and general
indifference concerning the supernatural, it is to be hoped that this
English translation of the Reverend Father Garrigou-Lagranges La
Providence et la confiance en Dieu will serve a useful purpose. In
this book the author has proved conclusively to anyone of upright mind
that there is an all-wise and designing Providence, who has created
all things with an end in view, and this especially as regards human
beings. The whole of creation confirms this view. Long ago the
psalmist declared that "the heavens show forth the glory of God: and
the firmament declareth the work of His hands" (Ps. 18:2) . If we
believe in the existence of God -- and no reasonable being can deny
this -- then we must say with the bard of Avon that "there's a
divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will" (Hamlet, V,
ii, 10) .

The first part of this book is a brief summary of a previous work by
the same author, entitled: God, His Existence and His Nature. The
proofs for the existence of God and a discussion of the divine
attributes constitute the basis of Providence. This French work was
well received. Within a short time after publication six thousand
copies were sold. It has also been translated into German, Italian,
and Polish.

In conclusion I wish to express my indebtedness to the Reverend Dr.
Newton Thompson for his painstaking care in preparing the manuscript
for publication. This indebtedness also applies to the second volume
of God, His Existence and His Nature, which due to an oversight was
not mentioned at the time of its publication

I also wish to thank the Reverend Dr. Bernard Wall, late of Wonersh
seminary, England, for his courtesy in allowing me the use of his
manuscript, which I consulted on various occasions. The verification
of many quoted passages was thereby much simplified and this enabled
me to proceed more rapidly.

Bede Rose, O.S.B.

St. Benedict's Abbey

Mount Angel, Oregon

PART I : THE EXISTENCE OF GOD AND OF PROVIDENCE

1. GOD THE PRIME MOVER OF CORPOREAL AND SPIRITUAL BEINGS

Before we proceed to consider the meaning and import of the proofs for
the existence of God and His providence, it will be well to point out
one general proof that virtually contains them all. It may be summed
up in this way: The greater does not come from the less, the more
perfect does not come from the less perfect, since the latter is
incapable of producing this effect.

There are in the world living, intelligent beings that come into
existence and disappear again; they are therefore not self-existent.
And what we say of the present applies equally to the past.

Consequently they require a cause, one that is self-existent. Hence
there must exist from all eternity a first Being who owes His being to
none but Himself and is able to confer being on others: a first living
being, a first intelligence, a first goodness and holiness. If it were
not so, the life, intelligence, goodness, and holiness of which we
have experience could never have made their appearance in this world
of ours.

Already open to common sense, this proof may be further scrutinized by
philosophical reason, but no fault can be found with it.

The greater cannot come from the less as from its wholly adequate,
efficacious cause, for the additional perfection would itself then be
without a cause, without a reason for its existence, and hence
absolutely unintelligible. It is utterly absurd to maintain that the
intelligence or the goodness of Jesus, of the great saints -- of St.
John, St. Paul, St. Augustine -- are the result of unintelligent
matter, of a material and blind fatality.

This general proof is at once more convincing when we consider the
motion of bodies and spirits -- motions from which it is shown that
God is the first mover of every being, both corporeal and spiritual.

Already advanced by Aristotle, this proof from motion is set out as
follows by St. Thomas in his Summa Theologica, Ia, q. 2, a. 3:

There is motion in the world, from the lowest order of beings to the
highest.

St. Thomas takes as his starting-point a fact of evident experience,
that there is motion in the world: the local motion of inanimate
bodies displacing and attracting one another; the qualitative motion
of heat increasing or diminishing in intensity; the motion of
development in the growing plant; the motion of the animal desiring
food and going in quest of it; the motion of the human intellect
passing from ignorance to a knowledge at first confused, then
distinct; the motion of our spiritual will, which from not desiring a
certain object comes to desire it more keenly; the motion of our will
which after desiring the end desires also the means to attain it.

Here, then, is a universal fact: there is motion in the world, from
the motion of the stone that is thrown into the air, to the motion of
our minds and wills. And we may say that everything in this world is
subject to motion or change -- nations and peoples and institutions as
well as individuals. When a motion has reached its peak it gives place
to another, as one wave of the sea is followed by another, one
generation by another, a phenomenon that the ancients represented by
the wheel of fortune on which the more successful were lifted up, only
to descend once more and give place to others. Is it a fact, then,
that everything passes, that nothing endures? Is there nothing
constant, nothing stable and absolutely permanent?

All motion requires a mover

How are we to explain this universal fact of motion, be it either
corporeal or spiritual? Is the explanation to be found in motion
itself? Is it its own reason, its own cause? To answer this question,
we must begin by pointing out two facts. First, in motion there is
something new that requires explanation. Where does this new element
come from, which previously had no existence? The question applies to
past as well as to present forms of motion. Secondly, motion exists
only in a movable object: it is this individual motion for the sole
reason that it is the motion of this mobile object. There is no
displacement without a body that is displaced, no flowing without a
fluid, no current without a liquid, no flight without a bird that
flies, no dream without a dreamer, no motion or volition apart from an
intelligent being that wills.

But if there is no motion apart from a mobile object, is it possible
for that object to move itself by its own power and without a cause of
any kind? Can the stone of itself set itself in motion without someone
to throw it into the air, or without some other body to attract it?
Can the cold metal become hot of itself, without a source of heat?

But, you may say, a living thing moves itself. True, but is there not
in the living thing a part that is moved and another that moves? If
the blood circulates through the arteries of an animal, is it not
because the heart by its contraction makes it circulate?

So also in man. If the hand moves, is it not because the will moves
it? And if in its turn the will is moved, passing from a state of
indetermination to one of determination, must it not be moved by some
object attracting it, by some good? And is it sufficient merely for
the good to be presented to it? Must not the will direct itself or be
directed to it? It does in fact direct itself to the means because it
first of all desires the end; but in the case of the first desire of
an end, as when we come to the age of reason or when on waking in the
morning we begin to exercise our will, is not an impulse from some
higher source necessary to start our volitional activity, so as to
make our will pass from the state of repose, of inactivity, to that
first act which is to be the cause of all the acts that follow? That
act contains something new which demands a cause; and the will, not
yet in possession of this new perfection, cannot give it to itself.
(Cf. St. Thomas, Ia IIae, q. 9, a. 4; q. 10, a. 4.)

Shall we say that this particular motion, whether corporeal or
spiritual, has as it cause another motion anterior to it? But, if we
consider motion as such, whether realized in this present motion or in
the motions that precede, we shall see that it is a transition from
potency to act. Now potency is less perfect than act; potency,
therefore, cannot confer act upon itself. Once again, if there were
not a mover for every motion, the greater would come from the less.

The stone was capable of displacement; now it changes its position, it
does not do so without a mover that projects or attracts it.

The plant in its growth passes from potency to act, but not without
the action of the sun, air, and moisture from the earth. The animal
passes from potency to act when it pursues the prey that attracts it,
but only in virtue of that higher activity which has endowed it with
the instinct to feed upon this object rather than upon some other.

Man himself passes from potency to act, from ignorance to knowledge;
for him it is an intellectual acquisition. But the intellect does not
give itself these acquisitions which hitherto it did not possess.

Our will, too, passes from potency to act, to which at times it clings
heroically. Where does this new perfection come from? The will could
not confer this upon itself, since it did not possess this before.

All motion, then, whether corporeal or spiritual, requires a cause:
without a mover the mobile thing is not moved. The mover may be
within, as the heart is within the living animal; but if this mover is
itself moved, it demands another mover superior to itself. The heart
that at the moment of death stops beating cannot set itself going
again; in this case it would require the intervention of the Author of
life Himself, by whom that life was given and who maintained its
motion until the organism finally spent itself.

Every motion demands a mover: such is the principle by which St.
Thomas throws light upon this great universal fact of motion. The
irrational animals perceive, indeed, that there are motions of the
sensible order; but, that every motion demands a mover, is beyond
their comprehension. They have no grasp of intelligible being or of
the raison detre of things, but only of sensible phenomena -- color,
sound, heat, and the like. On the other hand, being and the raison
detre of things constitute the very object of our intellect; hence we
are able to grasp the truth, that without a mover all motion is
impossible.

Every motion requires a supreme mover

But we must go a step farther. If for every motion either corporeal or
spiritual a mover is required, does this necessitate a supreme mover?

A number of philosophers, including Aristotle, thought it possible to
have an infinite series of movers accidentally subordinated to one
another in past time. For such as these the series of animal
generations, for instance, never had a beginning. There was never a
first hen or a first egg, but always, without beginning, there were
hens that laid eggs; the motion of the sun revolving in the heavens
had no beginning and will have no end; the evaporation of water from
the rivers and seas has always been producing rain, but there was no
first rainfall.

We Christians hold it to be a fact known from revelation, that the
world had a beginning: that it was created not from all eternity (non
ab aeterno) , but in time. This is an article of faith defined by the
councils.

But precisely because it is an article of faith and not merely one of
the preambles to the faith, is why St. Thomas holds that reason alone
can never demonstrate that the world had a beginning (Ia, q. 46, a. 2)
. And why does this truth transcend the natural powers of our
intellect? Because that beginning depended on the free will of God.
Had He so willed, He might have created the world ten thousand years,
a hundred thousand years, millions of years before, or at a time even
more remote, without there having been a first day for the world, but
simply a dependence of the world on its Creator, just as a footprint
in the sand is due to the foot that makes it, so that, had the foot
always been there the footprint would have had no beginning.

Although revelation teaches that the world did in fact have a
beginning, it does not seem impossible, says St. Thomas, for the world
always to have existed in its dependence on God the Creator.

But, if a series of movers accidentally subordinated in the past may
be infinite and does not of necessity require a first in time, it is
not so with a series of movers necessarily and actually subordinated
at the present moment. Here we must eventually arrive at a supreme
mover actually existent, one that has not merely given an impulse at
the beginning of the world, but that is moving all things now.

For example: the boat carries the fisherman, the sea enables the boat
to float, the earth holds the sea in check, the sun keeps the earth
fixed in its course, and some unknown center of attraction holds the
sun in its place. But after that? We cannot go on in this manner ad
infinitum in a series of causes that are actually subordinate. There
must be a first and supreme efficient cause existing not merely in the
past but in the present, and this supreme cause must act, must exert
its influence now; otherwise the subordinate causes, that act only
when moved by ano ther, would not act at all

Trying to dispense with the necessity of a source is the same as
saying that a watch can run without a spring, provided it has an
infinite number of wheels. The watch may have been wound up a thousand
times, a hundred thousand times, or times without number, in the past
-- it matters little; what is necessary is for it to have a spring.
Likewise it matters little whether the earth had a beginning in its
revolution around the sun; what is necessary is for the sun to attract
it now, and for the sun itself to be attracted by a more remote and
actually existing center of attraction. In the end we must come to a
first mover that acts of itself and not through another of a higher
order. We must come to a first mover able to give a full and adequate
account of the very being or reality of its action.

Now that alone can account for the being of its action which possesses
it in its own right, and that not only potentially but actually; a
being which, as a consequence, is its very act, its activity, and
which, instead of having received its life, is life itself. Such a
mover is absolutely immobile in the sense that it already possesses of
itself what others acquire by motion. It is in consequence essentially
distinct from all mobile things, whether corporeal or spiritual. And
here we have a refutation of pantheism. God cannot be confounded with
the world, for He is immovable, whereas the world is in a state of
perpetual change. It is this very change that demands an immobile
first mover, who, instead of passing from the potential to the actual,
is His act from all eternity; who is consequently being itself, since
action presupposes being and since the mode of action follows upon the
mode of being. "I am the Lord and I change not" (Malachias 3: 6) . It
is false to say that everything passes and nothing endures, that
nothing is constant, nothing stable. There must be a first mover who
is Himself absolutely immovable.

To deny the necessity of a supreme cause is to maintain that the
explanation of motion lies in itself, that a mobile thing can of
itself and without a mover pass from potency to act, can confer on
itself the act, the new perfection it does not yet possess. To do away
with a supreme cause is to claim that, as someone has said, "a brush
will paint by itself provided it has a very long handle. "  This is
maintaining always the same thing, that the greater comes from the
less.

As evidence of this necessity for a supreme mover in the present and
not merely in the past, we may take another example, this time from
motion of the spiritual order.

Our will begins to will a certain thing: a sick person, for instance,
wishes to call in a doctor. And why? Because first of all he desires
to be cured, and to be cured is a good thing. He began to will this
good thing, and this act of willing is an act distinct from the
volitional faculty; for with us this faculty is not of itself an
eternal act of love for the good; it contains its first act only
potentially, so that when the act makes its appearance it is in the
will as something new, a new perfection. In order to find the ultimate
raison detre of this becoming, of the very reality of this first act
of willing, we must go back to a first mover of mind and will, one
that has not received the impu lse to act, who acts without its being
given Him to act, to whom it can never be said: "What hast thou that
thou hast not received?" We must eventually arrive at a first mover
who is His own activity, who acts solely through Himself, since action
presupposes being and since the mode of action follows upon the mode
of being.

Only being itself, which alone exists of itself, can in the last
analysis account for the being or reality of a becoming, which is not
self-existent.

Are we not forced to recognize the existence of this first mover when
we are confronted with an important duty to be performed at all costs
and without delay, such as the defense of family or country; are we
not too aware of our weakness, our powerlessness to proceed to action?
What is then needed is action, not words. Who, then, will effect the
transition from potency to act, if not He and He alone who has given
us the faculty to will and is able to move the will, seeing that He is
more intimately present to it than it is to itself?

Similarly, the first act of our intellect, whether it be when we come
to the age of reason or when we wake in the morning, presupposes a
first impulse given to it by the supreme intellect, without whose
concurrence we could not think at all. This impulse, by many
unperceived, becomes at times strikingly apparent on those occasions
known as flashes of genius. Even the man of genius merely participates
in intellectual life. He has a part in it, and everything that is by
participation is dependent on that which exists of itself and not
through another.

Is not the existence of the first mover of intellects forcibly brought
home to us when, after failing to see where our duty lies, we retire
within ourselves and there eventually get enlightenment? How have we
passed from potency to act if not by the assistance of Him who has
given us intelligence and who alone can enrich it with new light?

The first mover, therefore, is not in potentiality for further
perfection. He is pure act without any admixture of imperfection.
Consequently, He is really and essentially distinct from every limited
mind, whether angelic or human, these passing from potency to act,
from ignorance to knowledge. Here again we have a refutation of
pantheism.

Is the first mover of corporeal and spiritual beings necessarily
spiritual?

To move intellects and wills without doing violence to them, evidently
the mover must be spiritual. The greater does not come from the less.

But even the first mover of corporeal beings must be spiritual, for,
as we have seen, It must be immobile in the sense that It is its own
action, its own being. This cannot be true of anything corporeal; all
bodies are mobile; matter is in perpetual motion.

Even if prime matter is supposed to be endowed with primitive
essential energies, still it cannot as an agent account for the being
of its own action; for such an agent must not only possess action and
existence, it must be its very action, existence, and consequently
must be absolutely immobile, possessing of itself all perfection and
not a tendency to it. Now matter is forever in motion, constantly
acquiring new perfections or forms and losing others.

The first mover, therefore, of corporeal and spiritual beings must
evidently be spiritual. It is of Him the liturgy speaks when it says:

Rerum Deus tenax vigor, Immotus in Te permanens.
(God powerful sustainer of all things, Thou who dost remain
permanently unmoved.)

In what then does the immobility of the supreme mover of corporeal and
spiritual beings consist? Not in the immobility of inertia, of an
inert body, for that is inferior to motion. It is the immobility of
supreme activity, which has nothing to gain, because of itself and
from the first it possesses all that it is possible for it to possess
and is able to communicate that abundance externally. On board ship
the sailors pass to and fro at their duties, but is it not the captain
who directs them to action by the spiritual activity of his intellect
and will, standing immovable on the bridge? There is far more vitality
in the steadfast contemplation of truth than in mere commotion.

The immobility of the first mover is not the immobility of the stone,
but the immobility that characterizes the contemplation and love of
the supreme good.

The characteristics of the supreme mover

Since the first mover is pure act with no admixture of the
imperfection of potentiality, it follows that He is in no way
perfectible. He is infinitely perfect, pure being, the pure and ever
actual intellection of supreme truth, the pure and ever actual love of
the fulness of being ever actually loved.

He is omnipresent, because to move all beings whether spiritual or
corporeal, He must be present, since these beings do not move
themselves, but are moved by Him.

He is eternal, for He has always by and of Himself all His being and
all His action of thought and love. In one immobile instant
transcending time, He possesses His life simultaneously in all its
completeness. When the world was created, the creative act did not
commence in God, for it is eternal; but it produced its effect in time
at the desired moment fixed from all eternity.

The first mover is unique: for pure act does not receive existence, it
is existence; it is being itself, which cannot be multiplied. Were
there two first movers, since one would not be the other, each would
be limited and imperfect and would no longer be pure act and being
itself.

Moreover the capacity of a second pure act could be nothing more than
the first, and would be superfluous: Could there be anything more
absurd than a superfluous God?

If such be the case, if there is an actually existing first mover of
corporeal and spiritual beings, what practical conclusions are to be
drawn from it?

In the first place we must learn to distinguish in life between the
immobility of inertia and the immobility of higher activities. The
immobility of inertia or of death is inferior to motion. The
immobility that characterizes the contemplation and love of God is
superior to the movement it may produce by directing and vivifying it.

Instead of dissipating our life in mere commotion, let us endeavor to
recollect it so that our activity may be more profound, more
consistent and lasting, and directed to eternity.

Secondly, let us frequently establish a contact in the summit of our
soul with the first mover of corporeal and spiritual beings, who is
none other than the living God, author not only of the soul and its
natural acts, but of grace also and salvation.

Let us make this contact on waking in the morning, for then we receive
within us that impulse from God that stirs us to action. Instead of
going astray at the beginning of the day, let us welcome this first
impulse by responding to it.

Let us in the course of the day resume this contact with Him who is
the author of life, who was not content merely to urge us in the past,
or merely to set us in motion at the beginning of the day, but is ever
sustaining us and actualizing our voluntary actions -- even the freest
of them -- in all their reality and goodness, evil only excepted.

Before lying down to rest, let us renew this contact, and all that
sound philosophy has just told us about the first mover of corporeal
and spiritual beings will appear transfigured, transported to a higher
plane, in the Our Father.

"Thy kingdom come": the kingdom of the supreme intellect, by whom all
other intellects are directed. "Thy will be done": that will to which
every other will must be subjected if it is to attain to its true end.

"Lead us not into temptation, " but sustain us by Thy strength;
maintain our intellect in truth and our will in the good. Then we
shall have an even deeper insight into the meaning of those words of
St. Paul spoken in the Areo pagus (Acts 17:24) : "God, who made the
world and all things therein... hath made of one all mankind... that
they should seek God, if happily they may feel after Him or find Him,
although He be not far from every one of us. For in Him we live and
move and are. " In Him we have our being -- not natural being only,
but the supernatural being of grace which is the beginning of eternal
life. Of this supreme mover, the source from which the life of
creation proceeds we have been able to speak only in an abstract and
very imperfect manner. It is He whom we must see face to face when we
come to the end of our journey and reach eternity.

2. THE ORDER IN THE UNIVERSE, AND PROVIDENCE

The general proof for the existence of God -- that the greater cannot
come from the less -- we have made more precise by an examination of
motion. We have seen how all motion, corporeal or spiritual, requires
a mover, and in the last resort a supreme mover; for in a series of
actually subordinated causes (for instance, in the series: the earth
attracted by the sun, the sun by a more distant center) , we must
eventually arrive at a supreme mover who does not require to be
previously moved, who must therefore possess activity of Himself if He
is to confer it upon others. That is, He must be His action instead of
merely receiving it. He acts without its being given Him to act. And
as action presupposes being, and the mode of action follows upon the
mode of being, the supreme mover of corporeal and spiritual beings, to
be His action, must also be being itself, according to the Scriptural
expression: "I am who am. "

We must now speak of a proof that establishes at once the existence of
God and His providence -- that based on the order prevailing in the
world. Of all the proofs for God's existence, it is the most popular.
Easily accessible to commonsense reason, it is susceptible of greater
penetration by philosophical reason; and when it is applied from the
physical to the moral order it may lead to the most sublime
contemplation. We find it expressed in Psalm 18: 2: "The heavens show
forth the glory of God: and the firmament declareth the work of His
hands. "

The fact: the order prevailing in the universe

The fact is this, that in nature, in those things that lack
intelligence, we have an admirable ordering of means to ends. "This is
evident, " says St. Thomas, "since those things which lack
intelligence -- the heavenly bodies, plants and animals -- act always,
or at least nearly always, in such a way as to produce what is best"
(Ia, q. 2, a. 3) .

Finality and order are apparent in the universal attraction between
bodies. The purpose of this attraction is the cohesion of the
universe. It is seen in the translational motion of the sun through
space, carrying with it its entire system. It is again seen in the
twofold motion of the earth -- the rotation about its axis every
twenty-four hours, which is the cause of day and night, and its
revolution round the sun in three hundred and sixty-five days, which
is the cause of the seasons. In this constant regularity of the
heavenly bodies in their courses, we have an obvious instance of means
directed to an end, as the greatest astronomers declared, rapt as they
were in admiration for the laws that they discovered. And many good
things in this world would not be realized without the difference of
day and night and the distinction of seasons, so necessary for the
germination of plants and their development.

If we ascend a little higher and consider the plant organism, we see
how admirably its arrangement enables it to use the moisture and
transform it into sap, in a word, to nourish and reproduce itself in a
regular and constant manner. If we but consider a grain of wheat put
into the ground, we see that its purpose is to produce an ear of
wheat, not of barley or rice.

We have only to consider an oak to see the utility of its roots and
sap for the life of its branches and foliage. We have only to examine
the collective organs of a flower to see that they all concur in the
formation of the fruit which the flower is intended to produce -- a
cherry, for instance, or an orange. A particular flower is intended to
produce a particular fruit and no other. How is it possible not to see
in this formation a designing idea?

If we ascend still higher and consider the animal organism, whether in
its lower or higher forms, we see that as a whole it is adapted for
the animal's nourishment, respiration, and reproduction. The heart
makes the red blood circulate throughout the organism for its
nourishment; then the dark blood charged with carbonic acid is again
transformed into red by contact in the lungs with the oxygen of the
air. Obviously the heart and lungs are for the preservation of animals
and men.

Certain parts of the animal organism are truly marvelous. The joints
of the foot are so made as to adapt themselves to every position in
walking, and those of the hand are suited to a great variety of
movements. A bird's wings are adapted for flight far better than is
the best airplane. The smallest cell, which is related to thousands of
others, is a masterpiece in itself. Of particular beauty is the
harmonious arrangement of the many parts of the ear, for the
perception of sound; and again, the very complex structure of the eye,
in which the act of vision presupposes thirteen conditions, each of
these again presupposing very many more, all of them adapted to this
simple act of vision. In the eye we have an instance of an amazing
number of means adapted to one and the same end, and this organ is
formed in such a way as to produce always, or usually at any rate,
what is best.

If now we consider the instinctive activity of animals, especially
such as bees, we meet with fresh marvels. It would require the genius
of a mathematician to invent and construct a bee-hive; and no chemist
has yet succeeded in making honey from the nectar of a flower. Yet the
bee is obviously not itself intelligent: it never varies its work or
makes any improvement. From the very beginning its natural instinct
has determined it to perform its task in the same way, and it will
continue to do so forever, without in any way bringing it to
perfection. On the contrary, man is continually perfecting the
implements of his invention because, through his intelligence, he
recognizes their purpose. The bee, too, works with an end in view, but
unconsciously; yet it works in a way that excites our admiration.

Shall it be said that this wonderful order in the heavenly bodies, in
vegetable and animal organisms, in the instinct of animals, is the
effect of a happy chance? What happens fortunately by chance is not of
regular or even frequent occurrence, but extremely rare. It is by
chance that a tripod, when thrown into the air, falls on its three
feet; but this rarely happens. It is by chance that a man digging a
grave finds a treasure; but it is an unusual thing. On the contrary,
the wonderful order we have been considering as prevailing in nature
is an order of fixed unchangeable laws, which are always applicable.
It is a constant harmony and, as it were, the perpetual s ymphony of
the universe for those who can hear it, that is, for great artists and
thinkers and for the simple, to whom nature speaks of God.

Shall it be said that, amid a large number of useless organisms, a
fortunate chance has formed a select few capable of receiving life,
with the result that these have been preserved while the useless ones
have disappeared? Such is the evolutionist theory of the survival of
the fittest. But this would be tantamount to saying that chance is the
first cause of the harmony prevailing in the universe and all its
parts, and that, surely, is impossible. To be convinced of this, we
need only reflect on what is meant by chance. Chance and its effect
are something accidental; it is accidental for the tripod, when thrown
into the air, to fall on its three feet; it is accidental for the
gravedigger to find a treasure. Now the accidental presupposes the
non-accidental, the essential, the natural, as the accessory
presupposes the principal.

Were there no natural law of gravitation, the tripod would not, when
thrown into the air, fall accidentally on its three feet. If the man
who accidentally finds a treasure had not had the intention of digging
the grave at that particular spot, this accidental effect would not
have come about.

Chance is simply the accidental concurrence of two actions that are
themselves not accidental but intentional, intentional at least in the
sense that they have an unconscious natural tendency.

To say, therefore, that chance is the first cause of order in the
world is to explain the essential by the accidental, the primary by
the accessory; it implies as a consequence the destruction of the
essential and the natural, the destruction of all nature and of all
natural law. There would no longer be anything but fortuitous
encounters, with nothing to encounter or be encountered -- which is
absurd. It is equivalent to saying that the wonderful order in the
universe is the outcome of disorder, of the absence of order, of
chaos, without cause of any kind: that the intelligible is the outcome
of the unintelligible: that brain and intelligence are the result of a
material, blind fatality. Once again it is to assert that the greater
comes from the less, the more perfect from the less perfect. That is
the substitution, indeed, of absurdity for the mystery of creation, a
mystery that has its obscurities, but that is plainly in conformity
with right reason.

The fact, then, that constitutes the starting-point of our proof holds
good: namely, there is order and finality in the world, that is, means
ordered to certain ends; for beings without intelligence, such as
plants and animals, always or nearly always act so as to produce what
is best. Universal attraction is for the cohesion of the universe, the
seed of a grain of wheat for the production of the ear, a flower for
the fruit, the foot of an animal for walking, the wings of a bird for
flying, the lungs for breathing, the ear for hearing, the eye for
seeing. The existence of finality is an undeniable fact, as even the
positivist Stuart Mill admits.

More than this: not only is it a fact that every natural agent acts
for some end, but it cannot be otherwise. Every agent must act for
some purpose since, for the agent, to act is to tend to something
determinate and appropriate to itself, that is, to an end. If the
agent did not act for some · determinate end, neither would it produce
anything determinate, one thing rather than another; there would be no
reason why the eye should see rather than hear, why the ear should
hear rather than see. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia IIae, q. 1, a. 2.)

Perhaps the objection may be raised, that we do not see for what
useful purpose the viper and other harmful animals exist. True, the
external finality of certain beings does frequently escape us, but
their internal finality is plain enough. We are quite able to see that
the viper's organs serve for its nutrition and preservation. Its
poisonous effect upon us induces us to be on our guard, and reminds us
that we are not invulnerable, that we are not gods. Faith tells us
that, had man not sinned, the serpent would not have become harmful to
him. In spite of obscurities and shadows, there is light enough for
those who are willing to see.

The materialists say there is as much heat or motion or calorific
energy in a kettle as in a gier-eagle. Ruskin retorts:

Very good; that is so, but for us painters, the primary cognizable
facts, in the two things, are, that the kettle has a spout, and the
eagle a beak; the one a lid on its back, the other a pair of wings;...
the kettle chooses to sit still on the hob; the eagle to recline on
the air. It is the fact of the choice, not the equal degree of
temperature in the fulfilment of it, which appears to us the more
interesting circumstance (The Ethics of the Dust, Lect. X) .

The materialist does not perceive that wings are for flying, the eye
for seeing; he will not recognize the value of finality of the eye.
Yet, if he feels that he is losing his sight, he goes to the oculist
like the rest of men, and that is at any rate a practical recognition
of the fact that eyes were made to see with.

For those who are willing to see, there is light enough in spite of
obscurities and shadows. The finality of nature is an evident fact,
not for our senses of course, -- for these get no farther than the
sensible phenomena -- but for our intellect, which is made to grasp
the raison dêtre of things. For the intellect, obviously the eye is
for seeing, the ear for hearing.

A means cannot be directed to an end except by an intelligent designer

From the fact that there is order in the world, how are we to ascend
to the certain truth of God's existence? By means of the principle
that beings without intelligence can tend to an end only when directed
to it by an intelligent cause, as the arrow is directed by the archer.
More simply, a means cannot be directed to an end except by an
intelligent designer.

Why is this? Because the end, which determines the tendency and the
means, is none other than the effect to be realized in the future. But
a future effect, which as yet has no actual existence, must, to
determine the tendency, be in some way already present, and this is
possible only in a cognitive being.

If nobody has ever known the purpose of the eye, we cannot say that it
is made to see with. If nobody has ever known the purpose of the bee's
activity, we cannot say that it is for making honey. If nobody has
ever known the purpose of the lung's action, we cannot say that it is
for the renewal of the blood by contact with the oxygen of the air.

But why must there be an intelligent designer? Why does not the
imagination suffice? Because only the intellect knows the raison dêtre
of things and consequently the purpose, which is the raison dêtre of
the means. Only an intellect can see that the wings of a bird are made
for flying and the foot for walking; only an intellect could have
designed wings for flying, the foot for walking, the ear for hearing,
etc.

The swallow collecting straws to make its nest does so without
perceiving that the building of the nest is the raison dêtre of the
action it performs. The bee, as it gathers the nectar from the flower,
does not know that the honey is the raison dêtre of its gathering. It
is the intellect alone that reaches beyond mere color or sound down to
the being and the raison dêtre of things.

Only an intelligent designer can have directed means to an end;
otherwise we would have to say that the greater comes from the less,
order from disorder.

But why is an infinite intellect necessary, one strictly divine? Why,
asks Kant, should not a limited intellect, like that of the angels, be
sufficient to explain the order in the universe?

It is because a finite or limited intellect would not be thought
itself, intellection itself, truth itself. Now an intellect that is
not truth itself always known is merely directed to the knowledge of
the truth; and this passive presupposes an active direction, which can
come only from the supreme intellect, who is thought and truth itself.
It is in this sense that our Lord declares Himself to be God, when He
says: "I am the way, the truth and the life. " He does not say merely,
""I have received truth, " but, "I am the truth and the life" (John
14: 6) .

This, therefore, is the conclusion to which our proof leads us: a
transcendently perfect intelligent designer, who is truth itself and
consequently being itself, since the true is being that is known. It
is the God of the Scriptures: I am who am. It is providence or the
supreme reason of the order in things, by which every creature has
been directed to its own particular end and finally to the ultimate
end of the universe, which is the manifestation of the divine
goodness. This is the way St. Thomas puts it (Ia, q. 22, a. 1) :

We must necessarily suppose a providence in God; for, as was pointed
out above, whatever goodness there is in things has been created by
Him. Now in created things not only in their substance is goodness to
be found, but also in their order to some end, and in particular to
the ultimate end, which, as we concluded above, is the divine
goodness. Hence this goodness in order apparent in created things has
also been created by God. Now since God is the cause of all things
through His intellect, in which therefore the conception of everyone
of His effects must pre-exist, there must also pre- exist in the
divine mind the conception of this ordering of things to an end. But
the conception of the order of things to an end is strictly
providence.

Providence is the conception in the divine intellect of the order of
all things to their end; and the divine governance, as St. Thomas
observes (ibid., ad 2um) , is the execution of that order.

We now understand more fully the significance of those words of the
psalm: ""The heavens show forth the glory of God" (Ps. 18:2) . The
wonderful order of the starry skies proclaims and extols the glory of
God, and reveals to us His infinite intelligence. The harmony of the
universe is like a marvelous symphony, the sweetest and most effective
chant of the Creator. Blessed are they who listen to it.

Is there not a great moral lesson in this proof for the existence of
God from the order prevailing in the world? Yes, an important one that
is taught us in the Book of Job and more clearly later on in the
Sermon on the Mount.

It is this lesson that, if there is such order in the physical world,
much more must it be so in the moral world, in spite of all the
wickedness human justice allows to go unpunished, as it also leaves
unrewarded many a heroic act giving proof of God's intervention in the
world.

It is the Lord's answer to Job and his friends. As we shall insist
later on, the purpose of the Book of Job is to answer this question:
Why so often in this world are the just made to suffer more than the
wicked? Is it always in expiation of their sins, their secret sins at
any rate?

Job's friends declare that it is, and they blame this poor stricken
soul for complaining. Job denies that the trials and tribulations of
the just are in every case the result of their sins, even their secret
sins, and he wonders why so much suffering should have befallen him.

In the latter part of the book (chaps. 32-42) , the Lord replies by
pointing out the wonderful order prevailing in the physical world with
all its splendors, from the life of the insect to the eagle's flight,
as if to say: If there exists such order as this in the things of
sense, much more so must there be order in the dispositions of my
providence concerning the just, even in their most terrible
afflictions. There is in this a secret and a mystery which it is not
given to men to fathom in this world.

Later on, in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord speaks more plainly
(Matt. 6: 25) : '"Therefore I say to you, be not solicitous for your
life, what you shall eat.... Behold the birds of the air, for they
neither sow, nor do they reap... and your heavenly Father feedeth
them. Are not you of much more value than they?... Consider the lilies
of the field:... they labor not, neither do they spin. But I say to
you that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of
these. And if the grass of the field... God doth so clothe: how much
more you, O ye of little faith. " If there is order in the world of
sense, a providence for the birds of the air, much more so will there
be order in the spiritual world and a providence for the immortal
souls of men.

And lastly, to the question put in the Book of Job, our Lord gives the
final answer when He says (John 15: I-2) : '"I am the true vine: and
My Father is the husbandman... and everyone that beareth fruit, He
will purge it, that it may bring forth more fruit. " God proves a man
as He proved Job, that the man may bring forth the splendid fruits of
patience, humility, self-abandonment, love of God and one's neighbor
-- the splendid fruits of charity, which is the beginning of eternal
life.

This, then, is the important moral lesson taught us in this sublime
proof for the existence of God: If in the world of sense such
wonderful order exists, much more must it be so in the moral and
spiritual world, in spite of trials and tribulations. There is light
enough for those who are willing to see and march on accordingly to
the true light of eternity.

3. GOD, THE SUPREME BEING AND SUPREME TRUTH

The proof for the existence of a first mover of corporeal and
spiritual beings, and of a supreme intelligence, the author of the
harmony prevailing in the universe, will prepare the way for a better
understanding of three other traditional proofs for the existence of
God. They are those of (1) God, the supreme being and supreme truth,
(2) the sovereign good who is the source of all happiness, and (3) the
ultimate foundation of our obligations. These we must touch upon if we
would have a right idea of providence.

Following in the steps of Plato, Aristotle, and St. Augustine, St.
Thomas develops the first of these proofs, called the proof from the
degrees of perfection, in the Summa Theologica, Ia, q. 2, a. 3, 4a
via. Its point of departure lies in the more or less of perfection to
be found in the beings that compose the universe, a perfection always
limited, from which our minds are led on to affirm the existence of a
supreme perfection, a supreme truth, a sup reme beauty.

Let us closely examine the starting-point of the proof, the fact upon
which the proof is based, and then the principle by which the proof
rises from the fact to the existence of God.

The fact: the degrees of perfection

The proof starts with the fact that there are in the universe beings
more or less good, more or less true, more or less noble. In other
words, in the universe of corporeal and spiritual beings, goodness,
truth, nobility exist in varying degrees, from the lowest mineral such
as iron with its strength and resistance up to the higher degrees of
the intellectual and moral life apparent in the great geniuses and the
great saints.

Of these degrees of goodness in things we have daily experience. We
say that a stone is good when it has solidity and does not crumble
away; a fruit is good if it provides nourishment and refreshment; a
horse is good if with it we can go on a long journey. In a higher way
a teacher is good if he has knowledge and knows how to impart it; the
virtuous man is good because he wills and does what is good; far more
so is the saint, in whom the desire for good has become an ardent
passion. And yet, however great a saint may be, he has his
limitations; no matter how much good he has accomplished, like the
Cure of Ars he will experience hours of intense sadness coupled with a
sense of his own helplessness at the thought of all the good that
remains to be done. Indeed, the saints realize most of all their own
nothingness.

It is an established fact, then, that goodness is realized in varying
degrees. It is the same with nobility: the vegetable is nobler than
the mineral, the animal is nobler than the vegetable, man is nobler
than the animal. One man is nobler in mind and heart than a certain
other; yet he too has his limitations, his temptations, his
weaknesses, his very imperfections. Nobility has its degrees, but even
the most exalted in our experience are still very imperfect.

Similarly, truth has degrees, for that which is richer in being, as a
reality, is richer also in truth. True gold is superior to spurious
gold alloyed with copper, the true diamond is superior to the
artificial, the upright mind is superior to the false. Surpassing the
mind that possesses a knowledge of but one science, physics for
example, is the mind that ascends to the sciences of the spiritual
world, to psychology and the moral and political sciences. Yet how
very limited is the truth of even these higher sciences!

The more we know, say the great thinkers, the more we realize all that
still remains to be known, and how little we do know. So, too, with
the great saints: the more good they do, the more keenly they realize
the amount of good that still remains to be done.

What, then, is the explanation of these various degrees of goodness,
nobility, and truth, or of beauty? Does this ascending gradation
remain stunted, incomplete, without a culminating point, a summit?
Must the progressive ascent of our minds toward the true halt at a
limited and impoverished truth, as in the case of our psychology and
our moral and political sciences? Must the progressive ascent of our
will to the good halt at one that is imperfect, mingled always with
some defect, some impotence? Must our enthusiasm at the sight of the
ideal be forever followed by a certain disillusionment and, if there
is no summit, by a disillusionment for which there is no remedy?

The principle: the more and the less perfect presuppose perfection
itself

Following in the steps of Plato, Aristotle, and St. Augustine, St.
Thomas explains the fact of the various degrees of the good and the
true by means of the following principle: Different beings are said to
be more or less perfect in the measure of their approach to that being
which is perfection itself.

By this sovereign perfection does St. Thomas mean ideal sovereign
perfection, one existing solely in the mind, or one that is real? He
means a real perfection, for that alone can be the cause of the
various degrees of perfection which, as we have seen, do exist and
which demand a cause.

The meaning of the principle invoked by St. Thomas is that, when a
perfection (such as goodness, truth, or beauty) , the conception of
which does not imply any imperfection, is found in various degrees in
different beings, none of those which possess it imperfectly contains
a sufficient explanation for it, and hence its cause must be sought in
a being of a higher order, which is this very perfection.

For a clearer understanding of this principle let us pause to consider
its terms. When an absolute perfection is found in various degrees in
different beings, none of those possessing it as yet imperfectly
contains a sufficient explanation for it. Here we must consider (1)
the multiple and (2) the imperfect.

1) The multiple presupposes the one. In fact, as Plato says in the
Phaedo, his disciple Phaedo is handsome; yet beauty is not peculiar to
Phaedo, for Phaedrus, too, is handsome. The beauty found in some
finite being is sister to the beauty found in similar beings. None of
them is beauty; each merely participates, has a part in or is a
reflection of beauty.  (Cf. Phaedo, 101, A.)

It is not in Phaedo, then, any more than in Phaedrus, that we are to
find the raison dêtre of the principle of their beauty. If neither can
account for the limited beauty that is his, he must have received it
from some higher principle, namely, from Beauty itself. In a word,
every multiplicity of beings more or less alike presupposes a higher
unity. The multiple presupposes the one.

2) The imperfect presupposes the perfect. The principle we are
explaining is brought home to us even more forcibly when we consider
that the perfection of the beings we see around us is always mingled
with its contrary, imperfection. A man's nobility and goodness cannot
be said to be unlimited, mingled as it is with so much infirmity, with
its trouble and errors. So also ignorance and even error constitute a
great part of human kno wledge; this merely participates in truth, has
no more than a part and that a humble part in it. And if it is not
truth, that is because it has received truth from some higher source.

Briefly, an imperfect being is a compound, and every compound requires
a cause uniting its constituent elements. The diverse presupposes the
identical, the compound presupposes the simple. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia,
q. 3, a. 7.)

The truth of our principle will impress itself more forcibly upon us
if we observe that a perfection such as goodness, truth, or beauty,
which of itself implies no imperfection, is not in fact limited except
by the restricted capacity of its recipient. Thus knowledge in us is
limited by our restricted capacity for it, goodness by our restricted
capacity for doing good.

Hence it is clear that, when a perfection of this kind, that as yet is
in an imperfect state, is found in some being, such a being merely
participates or has a part in it, and has therefore received it from a
higher cause, which must be the unlimited perfection itself, being
itself, truth itself, goodness itself, if this cause is to be capable
of imparting to others a certain reflection of that truth and
goodness.

Among the philosophers of antiquity Plato has emphasized this truth in
one of the finest pages to be found in the writings of the Greek
thinkers. (Cf. Symposium, 211, C) We must learn, he says in substance,
to love beautiful colors, the beauty of a sunrise or sunset, of the
mountains, seas, and skies, the beauty of a noble countenance. But we
must rise above mere material beauty to beauty of soul as displayed in
its actions; thence from the beauty of these actions to the principles
that govern them -- to the beauty of the sciences, and from science to
science ascending even to wisdom, the most exalted of them all: the
science of being, of the true and the beautiful. Afterward there will
arise in us the desire to have knowledge of the beautiful itself and
as it is in itself -- the desire to contemplate, says Plato,

that beauty which grows not nor decays; is not fair in one part,
uncomely in another; fair at one time, uncomely at anot her; fair in
one place and not in another; fair to some, uncomely to others... a
beauty residing in no being other than itself, in an animal, in the
earth or skies or elsewhere, but existing eternally and absolutely, of
itself and in itself; in which all other beauties participate, without
inducing in it by their birth or destruction the least diminution or
increase, or any change whatsoever.

The disillusionments that we meet with here on earth are permitted
precisely in order to direct our thoughts more and more to this
supreme beauty and impel us to love it.

What Plato says of beauty applies equally to truth. Transcending
particular, contingent truths, which possibly might not be so (as that
my body exists at this moment, to die perhaps tomorrow) , there are
the universal, necessary truths (as that man is by nature a rational
being, with the capacity to reason, without which he would be
undistinguishable from the brute beast) ; or again the truth, that it
is impossible for something at once to exist and not exist. These
truths never began to be true and will continue to be true always.

Where have these eternal, necessary truths their foundation? Not in
perishable realities, for the latter are governed by these truths as
by absolute laws, from which nothing can escape. Nor is their
foundation in our finite intellects, for these eternal, necessary
truths govern and regulate our intellect as higher principles.

Where, then, are we to look for the foundation of these eternal,
necessary truths, governing all finite reality and every finite
intellect? Where is that foundation if not in the supreme being, the
supreme truth always known by the first intellect, which, far from
having received truth, is the truth, pure truth, without any admixture
of error or ignorance, without any limitation or imperfection
whatever?

In a word, the truths which govern all perishable reality and every
finite intellect, like necessary and eternal laws, must have their
foundation in a supreme truth which is being and wisdom itself. But it
is God who is being itself, truth itself, wisdom itself.

Such is this further proof for the existence of God proposed by Plato,
St. Augustine, and St. Thomas.

We now see more clearly the significance and scope of the principle on
which this proof is based: "Different beings are said to be more or
less perfect according to the measure of their approach to that being
which is perfection itself. " In other words, when a perfection such
as goodness, truth, or beauty, the concept of which implies no
imperfection, is found in varying degrees in different beings, this
cannot be accounted for by any of those beings in which it is found in
as yet an imperfect degree; the being merely participates in it, and
has received it according to the measure of its capacity--has received
it, too, from a higher being who is this very perfection.

What practical conclusion are we to draw from this ascent? It is
expressed in that saying of our Lord: "None is good but God
alone--good, that is, with goodness unalloyed. God alone is true, with
a truth and wisdom untrammeled by ignorance; God alone is beautiful
with that infinite beauty which we are called upon to contemplate some
day face to face, that beauty which even here on earth the human
intellect of Jesus contemplated as He conversed with His disciples.
"God alone is great: that was St. Michael's answer to Satan's pride.
The thought of this makes us humble.

Ours is but a borrowed existence, freely given us by God, and He keeps
us in existence because indeed He wills it so. Ours is but a goodness
in which there is so much infirmity and even degradation; there is so
much error in our knowledge. This thought, while serving to make us
humble, brings home to us by contrast the infinite majesty of God.

And then if it is a question of others and no longer of ourselves, if
we have suffered disillusionment about our neighbor whom we had
believed to be better and wiser, let us remember that he too has
suffered disillusionment about us; let us remember that he too is
perhaps better than we are, and that whatever is our own as coming
from ourselves-our deficiencies and failings -- is inferior to
everything our neighbor has from God. This is the foundation of
humility in our relations with others.

Lastly, we must admit that the disillusionments we ourselves
experience, or which others experience through us, in view of the
radical imperfection of the creature, are permitted that we may aspire
more ardently to a knowledge and love of Him who is the truth and the
life, whom we shall some day see as He sees Himself. We shall then
understand the meaning of those words of St. Catherine of Siena: The
living, practical knowledge of our own wretchedness and the knowledge
of God's majesty are inseparable in their increase. They are like the
lowest and highest points on a circle that is ever expanding.  And the
more we realize our own imperfections and limitations, the more we
realize, too, that God has a right to be loved above all things by
reason of His infinite wisdom and His infinite goodness.

Our final observation is this: the supreme truth has Himself spoken to
us: He has revealed Himself to us, as yet in an obscure manner, but it
is the foundation of our Christian faith. It is in the name of this
supreme truth that Jesus speaks, when He says: In truth, in truth, I
say to you.  He is Himself the truth and the life, and by His help
from day to day we must gradually live a better life. This far
surpasses Plato's ideal; no longer is it an abstract, philosophic
ascent to the supreme truth, but the supreme truth which condescends
to reach down to us in order to raise us up to Himself.

4. GOD THE SOVEREIGN GOOD AND THE DESIRE FOR HAPPINESS

When speaking of God as supreme being and supreme truth we saw that a
multiplicity of beings resembling one another in one and the same
perfection, such as goodness, is insufficient to account for the unity
of likeness thus existing in that multiplicity; as Plato said, the
multiple cannot account for the one. Moreover, none of the beings
possessing the perfection in an imperfect degree is sufficient to
account for it; for each is a compound of the perfection and the
restricted capacity limiting it, and like all compounds it demands a
cause: Things in themselves different cannot possess an element in
common except through a cause uniting them.   This compound
participates or has a part in the perfection; it has therefore
received the perfection, and can have received it only from Him who is
perfection itself, which in its notion implies no imperfection.

From the moral point of view this doctrine becomes of vital importance
in reminding us that the more we realize our limitations in wisdom and
goodness, the more our minds should dwell on Him who is wisdom and
goodness itself. The multiple finds its explanation only in the one,
the diverse in the identical, the compound in the simple, the
imperfect mingled with imperfection only in the perfect that is free
from all imperfection.

This proof for the existence of God contains implicitly another which
St. Thomas develops elsewhere, Ia IIae, q. 2, a. 8. He shows that
beatitude or true happiness, the desire for which is natural to man,
cannot be found in any limited or restricted good, but only in God who
is known at least with a natural knowledge and loved with an
efficacious love above all things. He proves that man's beatitude
cannot consist in wealth, honors, or glory, or in any bodily good; nor
does it consist in some good of the soul, such as virtue, nor in any
limited good. His argument for this last is based on the very nature
of our intellect and will.

Let us consider (1) the fact which is the starting-point of the proof,
(2) the principle on which the proof rests, (3) the culminating point
of the proof, and (4) what the proof cannot extend to.

1) The fact of experience: true, substantial, and enduring happiness
cannot be found in any passing good

We can ascend to the sovereign good, the source of perfect and
unalloyed happiness, by starting either from the notion of imperfect
subordinate goods or from the natural desire which such goods never
succeed in satisfying.

If we begin with those finite limited goods which man is naturally
inclined to desire, we very soon realize their imperfection. Whether
it be health or the pleasures of the body, riches or honors, glory or
power, or a knowledge of the sciences, we are forced to acknowledge
that these are but transitory goods, extremely limited and imperfect.
But, as we have said repeatedly, the imperfect, or the good mingled
with imperfection, is no more than a good participated in by the
restricted capacity of the recipient, and it presupposes the pure good
completely excluding its contrary. Thus a wisdom associated with
ignorance and error is no more than a participated wisdom,
presupposing wisdom itself. This is the metaphysical aspect of the
argument, the dialectic of the intellect proceeding by way of both
exemplary and efficient causality.

But the proof we are here speaking of becomes more vital, more
convincing, more telling, if we begin with that natural desire for
happiness which everyone feels so keenly within him. This is the
psychological and moral aspect of the argument, the dialectic of love
founded on that of the intellect and proceeding by way of efficient
(productive, regulative) causality or final causality.  These, the
efficient and final, are the two extrinsic causes, each as necessary
as the other. Indeed the final is the first of the causes, so that
Aristotle (Metaphysics, Bk. XII, chap. 7) saw more clearly the final
causality of God the pure act than His efficient causality, whether
productive or regulative.

Following in the wake of Aristotle and St. Augustine, St. Thomas (Ia
IIae, q. 2, a. 7, 8) insists on the fact that man by his very nature
desires to be happy. Now man's intellect, transcending as it does the
sense and the imagination of the brute, has knowledge not merely of
this or that particular good, whether delectable or useful - - a
particular food or a particular medicine, for instance -- but of good
in general (universal in predication) , constituting it as such, as
the desirable wherever it is to be found. Since this is so, and since
man's inclination is directed to the real good to be found in things,
and not simply to the abstract idea of the good, it follows that he
cannot find his true happiness in any finite limited good, but in the
sovereign good alone (universal in being and causation) .

It is impossible for man to find in any limited good that true
happiness which by his very nature he desires, for his intellect,
becoming immediately aware of the limitation, conceives forthwith the
idea of a higher good, and the will naturally desires it.

This fact is expressed in the profound sentence of St. Augustine's
Confessions (Bk. I, chap. 1) : Our heart, O Lord, is restless, until
it finds its rest in Thee (irrequietum est cor nostrum donec
requiescat in Te, Domine) .

Who of us has not experienced this fact in his intimate life? In
sickness we have the natural desire to recover our health as a great
good. But, however happy we are in our recovery, no sooner are we
cured than we realize that health alone cannot bring happiness: a man
may be in perfect health and yet be overwhelmed with sadness. It is
the same with the pleasures of the senses: far from being sufficient
to give us happiness, let them be abused ever so little and they bring
only disillusion and disgust; for our intellect, with its conception
of a universal unlimited good, straightway tells us: Now that you have
obtained this sensible enjoyment which just now had such an attraction
for you, you see that it is sheer emptiness incapable of filling the
deep void in your heart, of satisfying your desire for happiness.

It is the same with wealth and honors, which many desire eagerly. We
no sooner possess them than we realize how ephemeral and superficial
is the satisfaction they give, how inadequate they, too, are to fill
the void in our hearts. And intellect tells us that all these riches
and honors are still but a poor finite good that is dissipated by a
breath of wind.

The same must be said of power and glory. One who is lifted up on the
wheel of fortune has scarcely reached the top when he begins to
descend; he must give place to others, and soon he will be as a star
whose light is extinguished. Even if the more fortunate retain their
power and glory for a time, they never find real happiness in it;
often they experience such anxiety and weariness of mind that they
long to withdraw from it all.

The same applies to the knowledge of the sciences. Here it is a case
of only an extremely limited good; for the true, even when complete
and without admixture of error, is still the good of the intellect,
not of man as a whole. Besides the intellect, the heart and will have
also their profound spiritual needs, and so long as these remain
unsatisfied there can be no true happiness.

Shall we find it in a most pure and exalted form of friend ship? Such
a friendship will doubtless bring us intense joy, sometimes affecting
our inmost being. But we have an intellect that conceives universal
and unlimited good, and here again it will not be long in perceiving
that this most pure and exalted form of friendship is still but a
finite good. This reminds us of those words of St. Catherine of Siena:
Would you continue long to slake your thirst with the cup of true
friendship? Leave it, then, beneath the fountain of living water;
otherwise it will speedily be drained and no longer satisfy your
thirst.  If the thirst is satisfied, it is because the person loved is
made better, and in order to be made better he needs to receive a new
goodness from a higher source.

Suppose we could look upon an angel and see his suprasensible, purely
spiritual beauty. Once. the first sense of wondering amazement had
passed, our intellect, with its conception of the universal, unlimited
good, would immediately remind us that even this was no more than a
finite good and thereby exceedingly poor in comp arison with the
unlimited and perfect good itself. Two finite goods, however unequal
they may be, are equally remote from the infinite; in this respect the
angel is as insignificant as the grain of sand.

2) The principle by which we ascend to God

Can it be that this natural desire for happiness, which we all have
within us, must forever remain unsatisfied? Is it possible for a
natural desire to be of no effect, chimerical, without meaning or
purpose?

That a desire born of a fantasy of the imagination or of an error of
reason, such as the desire to have wings, may be chimerical, can well
be understood. But surely it could not be so with a desire which has
its immediate foundation in nature without the intervention of any
conditional judgment. The desire for happiness is not a mere
hypothetical wish; it is innate, with its immediate foundation in
nature itself; and nature again is stable and constant, being found in
all men, in all places, and at all times. Furthermore, this desire is
of the very nature of the will, which, prior to any act, is an
appetitive faculty having universal good as its object. The nature of
our will can no more be the result of chance, of a fortuitous
encounter, than can the nature of our intellect; because, like the
intellect, the will is a principle of operation wholly simple, in no
way compounded of different elements that chance might have brought
together. Can this natural desire of the will be chimerical?

In answer to this question we say, first, that natural desire in
beings inferior to ourselves is not ineffectual, as the naturalists
have shown from the experimental point of view. In herbiverous animals
the natural desire is for herbaceous food, and this they find; in
carnivores the desire is to find flesh to eat, and they find it. Man's
natural desire is for happiness, and with him true happiness is not
and cannot be found in any limited good. Is this true happiness
nowhere to be found? Is man's natural desire, then, to remain a
deception and without finality when the natural desire of inferior
beings is not in vain?

And this is not purely a naturalist's argument based on experience and
the analogy of our own natural desire with that of inferior beings. It
is a metaphysical argument based on the certitude of the absolute
validity of the principle of finality.

If the natural desire for true happiness is chimerical, then all human
activity, inspired as it is by that desire, is without finality,
without a raison d'être, and thus contrary to the necessary and
evident principle that every agent acts for an end. To grasp the truth
of this principle, thus formulated by Aristotle, it is enough to
understand the terms of the proposition. Any agent whatsoever,
conscious or unconscious, has an inclination to something determinate
which is appropriate to it. Now the end is precisely that determinate
good to which the act of the agent or the motion of the mobile object
is directed.

This principle, self-evident to one who understands the meaning of the
words agent and end, may be further demonstrated by a reductio ad
absurdum; for otherwise, says St. Thomas (Ia IIae, q. 1, a. 2) , there
would be no reason why the agent should act rather than not act, no
reason why it should act in this way rather than in another,  why it
should desire this object rather than some other.

If there were no finality in nature, if no natural agent acted for
some end, there would be no reason why the eye should see and not hear
or taste, no reason why the wings of the bird should be for flying and
not for walking or swimming, no reason for the intellect to know
rather than desire. Everything would then be for no purpose, and be
unintelligible. There would be no reason why the stone should fall
instead of rising, no reason why bodies should attract rather than
repel one another and be dispersed, thus destroying the harmony of the
universe.

The principle of finality has an absolute necessity and value. It is
no less certain than the principle of efficient causality, that
everything that happens and every contingent being demands an
efficient cause, and that in the last analysis everything that happens
demands an efficient cause itself uncaused, a cause that is its own
activity, its own action, and is therefore its existence, since action
follows being and the mode of action the mode of being.

These two principles of efficient and final causality are equally
certain, the certitude being metaphysical and not merely physical,
antecedent to a demonstration of the existence of God. Indeed, without
finality, efficient causa lity is inconceivable: as we have just seen,
it would be without a purpose and consequently unintelligible.

3) The term of this ascent

There is, then, a purpose in our natural desire for happiness; its
Inclination is for some good. But is this inclination for a good that
is wholly unreal, or, though real, yet unattainable?

In the first place, the good to which our natural desire tends is not
simply an idea in the mind, for, as Aristotle more than once pointed
out, whereas truth is formally in the mind enunciating a judgment, the
good is formally in things. When we desire food, it is not enough for
us to have the idea: it is not the idea of bread that nourishes, but
the bread itself. Hence the natural desire of the will, founded as it
is in the very nature of the intellect and the will and not merely in
the imagination or the vagaries of reason, tends to a real good, not
merely to the idea of the good; otherwise it is no longer a desire and
certainly not a natural one.

It will perhaps be said that our universal idea of good leads us to
seek happiness in the simultaneous or successive enjoyment of all
those finite goods that have an attraction for us, such as health and
bodily pleasures, riches and honors, the delight in scientific
knowledge, art and friendship. Those who in their mad career wish to
enjoy every finite good, one after another, if not all at once, seem
for the moment to think that herein lies true happiness.

But experience and reason undeceive us. That empty void in the heart
always remains, making itself felt in weariness of spirit; and
intelligence tells us that not even the simultaneous possession of all
these goods, finite and imperfect as they are, can constitute the good
itself which is conceived and desired by us, any more than an
innumerable multitude of idiots can equal a man of genius.

Quantity has nothing to say in the matter; it is quality of good that
counts here. Even if the whole sum of created goods were multiplied to
infinity they would not constitute that pure and perfect good which
the intellect conceives and the will desires. Here is the profound
reason for that weariness of spirit which the worldly experience and
which they take with them wherever they go. They pursue one thing
after another, yet never find any real satisfaction or true happiness.

Now if our intellect is able to conceive a universal, unlimited good,
the will also, awakened as it is by the intellect, has a range and
depth that is limitless. Is it possible, therefore, for its natural
desire -- which calls for a real good and not merely the idea of good
-- to be chimerical and of no effect?

This natural desire, which has its foundation not in the imagination
but in our very nature, is, like that nature, something fixed and
unchangeable. It can no more be ineffectual than the desire of the
herbivora or that of the carnivora; it can no more be ineffective than
is the natural ordering of the eye for seeing, the ear for hearing,
the intellect for knowing. If therefore this natural desire for
happiness cannot be ineffective, if it cannot find its satisfaction in
any finite goods or in the sum total of them, we are necessarily
compelled to affirm the existence of a pure and perfect good. That is,
the good itself or the sovereign good, which alone is capable of
responding to our aspirations. Otherwise the universal range of our
will would be a psychological absurdity, something radically
unintelligible and without a purpose.

4) What does not come within the exigencies of our nature

Does it follow that this natural desire for happiness in us demands
that we attain to the intuitive vision of God, the sovereign good?

By no means; for the intuitive vision of the divine essence is
essentially supernatural and therefore gratuitous, in no way due to
our nature or to the nature of angels.

This is the meaning of St. Paul's words: "Eye hath not seen, nor ear
heard; neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God
hath prepared for them that love Him. But to us God hath revealed them
by His Spirit. For the Spirit searcheth all things, yea, the deep
things of God (I Cor. 2: 9) .

But far inferior to the intuitive vision of the divine essence and to
Christian faith, is a natural knowledge of God as the author of
nature, which is the knowledge given us by the proofs of His
existence.

If original sin had not enfeebled our moral strength, this natural
knowledge would have enabled us to attain to a naturally efficacious
love for God as the author of nature, who is the sovereign good known
in a natural way.

Now had man been created in a purely natural state, he would have
found in this natural knowledge and naturally efficacious love for God
his true happiness. Of course it would not have been that absolutely
perfect and supernatural beatitude, which is the immediate vision of
God, but a true happiness, nevertheless, one solid and lasting; for in
the natural order, at any rate, the order embracing everything our
nature demands, this natural love for God, if efficacious, does really
direct our life to Him and in a true sense enables us to find our rest
in Him. Such in the state of pure nature would have been the destiny
of the immortal souls of the just after the probation of this life.
The soul naturally desires to live forever, and a natural desire of
this kind cannot be i neffective. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia, q. 75, a. 6, c,
end.)

But gratuitously we have received far more than this: we have received
grace which is the seed of glory, and with it t supernatural faith and
a supernatural love for God, who is no longer the author merely of
nature but also of grace.

And so, for us Christians, the proof we have been discussing receives
strong confirmation in the happiness and peace to be found even here
on earth through union with God.

In a realm far beyond any glimpse that philosophical reason might
obtain, though not yet the attainment of the perfect beatitude of
heaven, true happiness is ours to the extent that we love the
sovereign good with a sincere, efficacious, generous love, and above
all things, more than ourselves or any creature, and to the extent
that we direct our whole life daily more and more to Him.

In spite of the occasional overwhelming sorrows of this present life,
we shall have found true happiness and peace, at least in the summit
of the soul, if we love God above all things; for peace is the
tranquillity that comes with order, and here we are united to the very
principle of all order and of all life.

Our proof thus receives strong confirmation from the profound
experiences of the spiritual life, in which are realized the words of
our Lord: Peace I leave with you: My peace I give unto you: not as the
world giveth, do I give unto you (John 14:27) . It is not in the
accumulation of pleasures, riches, honors, glory, and power, but in
union with God, that the Savior has given us peace. So solid and
enduring is the peace He has given us that He can and actually does
preserve it within us, as He predicted that He would, even in the
midst of persecutions: Blessed are the poor.... Blessed are they that
hunger and thirst after justice.... Blessed are they that suffer
persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven
(Matt. 5: 10) . Already the kingdom of heaven is theirs in the sense
that in union with God they possess through charity the beginnings of
eternal life, inchoatio vitae aeternae (IIa IIae, q. 24, a. 3 ad 2um)
.

Epicurus boasted that his teaching would bring happiness to his
disciples even in the red-hot brazen bull of Phalaris in which men
were roasted to death. Jesus alone has been able to accomplish such a
thing by giving to the martyrs in the very midst of their torments
peace and true happiness through union with God.

According to the degree of this union with God, the proof we have been
discussing is thereby very much confirmed by reason of the profound
spiritual experience; for, through the gift of wisdom, God makes
Himself felt within us as the life of our life: For the Spirit Himself
giveth testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God (Rom. 8:
16) . God makes Himself felt within us as the principle of that filial
love for Him which He Himself inspires in us.

5. GOD, THE ULTIMATE FOUNDATION OF DUTY

We have been considering the proof for the existence of the sovereign
good based on our natural desire for happiness. It may be summed up,
we said, in this way: A natural desire, one that has its foundation
not in the imagination or the vagaries of reason but in our very
nature, which we have in common with all men, cannot possibly be
ineffective, chimerical, deceptive; this means that it cannot be for a
good that is either unreal or unattainable.

Now every man has a natural desire for happiness, and true happiness
is not to be found in any finite or limited good, for our intellect,
with its conception of universal, unlimited good, naturally constrains
us to desire it.

There must, then, be an unlimited good, pure and simple, without any
admixture of non-good or imperfection; without it the universal range
of our will would be a psychological absurdity and without any meaning
whatever.

If the herbivora find the grass they need and the carnivora the prey
necessary for their sustenance, then the natural desire in man cannot
be to no purpose. The natural desire for true happiness must be
possible of attainment and, since it is to be found only in the
knowledge and love of the sovereign good, and this is God, then God
must exist.

There is another proof for God's existence, the starting point of
which is not in our desire for happiness but in moral obligation or
the direction of our will to moral good. This proof leads up to the
sovereign good, not considered as simply the supreme desirable but as
possessing the right to be loved, as having a claim on our love, and
as the foundation of duty.

1) The ordering of our will to moral good

This proof has its starting-point in human conscience. All men,
including even those who doubt the existence of God, realize, at least
vaguely, that one must do good and avoid evil. To recognize this truth
it is enough to have a notion of good" and to distinguish, as common
sense does, between (1) sensible or purely delectable goods, (2) good
that is useful in view of some end, and (3) honorable or moral good
(bonum honestum) , which is good in itself independently of the
enjoyment or utility it may afford. The animal finds its complete
satisfaction in delectable good of the senses; by instinct it makes
use of sensible good that it finds to be useful, but without
perceiving that the raison dêtre of the useful lies in the end for
which it is employed. The swallow picks up a piece of straw with which
to make its nest without knowing that the straw is of use in building
it. Man alone, through his reason, recognizes that the utility or
raison dêtre of the means lies in the end they subserve.

Again, he alone recognizes and can love the honorable good; he alone
can understand this moral truth: that one must do good and avoid evil.
The imagination of the brute may be trained and continually perfected
in its own order, but never will it succeed in grasping this truth.

But, on the other hand, every man, however uncultured he may be, will
grasp this truth as soon as he comes to the age of reason. Everyone
who has come to the full use of reason will recognize this threefold
distinction in the good, even though he may not always be able to put
it into words. It is obvious to anyone that a tasty fruit is a
delectable good of the sensible order, a physical good having nothing
to do with moral good, since the use it is put to may be either
morally good or morally bad: the delectable is not therefore in itself
moral.

Again, all are aware that a bitter medicine is not a delectable good,
but one that is useful in view of some end, as a possible means of
recovering their health. In this way money is useful and, from the
moral point of view, the use it is put to may be either good or bad.
Here is one of the most elementary principles of common sense.

Lastly, everyone who has come to the age of reason sees that
transcending the delectable and the useful there is the honorable
good, the rational or moral good, which is good in itself
independently of any pleasure or advantage or convenience resulting
from it.

In this sense virtue is a good, such as patience, courage, justice.
That justice is a spiritual good and not a sensible one is obvious to
everybody. Though it may bring joy to the person practicing it, it is
good regardless of this enjoyment; it is good because it is reasonable
or in conformity with right reason. We are fully aware that justice
must be practiced for its own sake and not merely for the advantage to
be gained, let us say, in avoiding the evil consequences of injustice.
Thus, even though it should mean certain death to us, we are bound to
do justice and avoid injustice, especially where the injustice is
grave.

This is a perfection belonging to man as man, to man as a rational
being, and not as an animal.

To know truth, to love it above all things, to act in all things in
accordance with right reason, is likewise good in itself apart from
the pleasure we may find in it or the advantages to be gained thereby.

Furthermore, this honorable or rational good is presented to us as the
necessary end of our activity and hence as of obligation. Everyone is
aware that a rational being must behave in conformity with right
reason, even as reason itself is in conformity with the absolute
principles of being or reality: That which is, is, and cannot at the
same time be and not be.  The honest man who is beaten unmercifully by
some scamp proves to him the superiority of the intelligible world
over that of sense when he exclaims: You may be the stronger, but that
does not prove that you are right.  Justice is justice.

Do your duty, come what may,  one must do good and avoid evil.  In
these or equivalent formulas the idea of duty finds expression among
all peoples. Pleasure and self-interest must be subordinated to duty,
the delectable and the useful to the moral. Here we have an eternal
truth, which has always been true and will ever be so.

What is the proximate basis of duty or moral obligation? As St. Thomas
(Ia IIae, q. 94, a. 2) says, this basis is the principle of finality,
evident to our intellect, according to which every being acts in view
of some end and must tend to that end which is proportionate to it.
Whence it follows that in rational beings the will must tend to the
honorable or rational good, to which it has been ordered. The faculty
to will and act rationally is for the rational act as the eye is for
seeing, the ear for hearing, the foot for walking, the wings of the
bird for flying, the cognitive faculty for knowing. A potency is for
its correlative act; if it fails to tend to that act it ceases to have
a raison d'être. It is not merely better for the faculty to tend to
its act, it is its intrinsic primordial law.

Since over and above the sensible, the delectable, and the useful
good, the will from its very nature is capable of desiring the
honorable or rational good (and this is equivalent to saying that it
is essentially ordered to that good) , it cannot refuse to desire that
good without ceasing to have a raison d'être. The will is for the
purpose of loving and desiring rational good; this good must therefore
be realized by it -- by man, that is, who is capable of realizing this
good and who exists for such purpose. This is the proximate basis of
moral obligation. But is there not also a far nobler and ultimate
basis?

The voice of conscience is peculiarly insistent at times in commanding
or forbidding the performance of certain acts -- in forbidding perjury
or treason, for instance -- or again in rebuking and condemning when a
grave offense has been committed. Is not the murderer tormented by his
conscience after his crime, even when the deed is perpetrated in
complete secrecy? The crime is unknown to men, yet conscience never
ceases to upbraid him even though he chooses to doubt God's existence.

Where does this voice of conscience come from? Is it simply the result
of a logical process? Does it come simply from our own reason? No, for
it makes itself heard in each and every human being; it dominates them
all.

Is it the result of human legislation? No, for it is above human
legislation, above the legislation of any one nation, of every nation
and of the League of Nations. It is this voice which tells us that an
unjust law is not binding in conscience; those who enact unjust laws
are themselves rebuked in the secrecy of their hearts by the
persistent voice of right reason.

2) The ordering of our will to moral good presupposes a divine
intelligent designer

Whence, then, comes this voice of conscience, so insistent at times?
We take for granted that a means cannot be ordered to an end except by
an intelligent designer, who alone can recognize in the end to be
attained the raison dêtre of the means, and therefore can alone
determine the means to the end. We take for granted also, as was seen
above (chap. 2) , that the order in the physical universe presupposes
a divine intelligent designer. Then with much greater reason must such
an intellect be presupposed in the ordering of our will to moral good.
There is no passive direction without a corresponding active
direction, which in this case must be from the very Author of our
nature.

Again, if from the eternal speculative truths (such as, that the same
thing cannot at the same time be and not be) , we pass by a necessary
transition to the existence of a supreme Truth, the fountain of all
other truths, why should we not ascend from the first principle of the
moral law (it is necessary to do good and avoid evil) up to the
eternal law?

Here we begin with the practical instead of the speculative
principles; the obligatory character of the good merely gives a new
aspect to the proof, and this characteristic, evident already in the
proximate basis of moral obligation, leads us on to seek its ultimate
basis.

If honorable good, to which our rational nature is ordered, must be
desired apart from the satisfaction or advantages we derive from it;
if that being which is capable of desiring it must do so under pain of
ceasing to h ave a raison d'être; if our conscience loudly proclaims
this duty and thereafter approves or condemns without our being able
to stifle remorse of conscience; if, in a word, the right to be loved
and practiced inherent in the good dominates the whole of our moral
activity and that of every society, actual or possible, as the
principle of contradiction dominates all reality, actual or possible:
then of necessity there must exist from all eternity some b asis on
which these absolute rights inherent in the good are founded.

These claims inherent in justice dominate our individual, family,
social, and political lives, and dominate the international life of
nations, past, present, and to come. These necessary and predominating
rights cannot have their raison dêtre in the contingent, transient
realities which they dominate, nor even in those manifold and
subordinate goods or duties which are imposed upon us as rational
beings. Transcending as they do everything that is not the Good
itself, the rights of justice can have none but that Good as their
foundation, their ultimate reason.

If, then, the proximate basis of moral obligation lies in the
essential order of things, or, to be more precise, in the rational
good to which our nature and activity are essentially ordered, its
ultimate basis is to be found in the sovereign good, our objective
last end. This moral obligation could only have been established by a
law of the same order as the sovereign good -- by the divine wisdom,
whose eternal law orders and directs all creatures to their end. Agent
and end are in corresponding orders. The passive direction on the part
of our will to the good presupposes an active direction on the part of
Him who created it for the good. In other words, in rational beings
the will must tend to the honorable or rational good, since this is
the purpose for which it was created by a high er efficient cause, who
Himself had in view the realization of this good.

This is why, according to common sense or natural reason, duty is in
the last resort founded on the being, intelligence, and will of God,
who has created us to know, love, and serve Him and thereby obtain
eternal bliss.

And so, common sense has respect for duty, while at the same time it
regards as legitimate our search after happiness. It rejects
utilitarian morality on the one hand, and on the other Kantian
morality, which consists in pure duty to the exclusion of all
objective good. To common sense this latter is like an arid waste
where the sun never shines.

Against this demonstration of God's existence, the objection is
sometimes advanced that it is a begging of the question, that it
involves a vicious circle. Strictly speaking, there is no moral
obligation, so it is said, without a supreme lawgiver, and it is
impossible to regard ourselves as subject to a categorical moral
obligation unless this supreme lawgiver is first recognized. Hence the
proof put forward presupposes what it seeks to prove; at the most it
brings out more explicitly what is presumed to be already implicitly
admitted.

To this we may reply, and rightly so, that it is sufficient first of
all to show the passive direction of our will to moral good and then
go on to prove the further truth that, since there can be no passive
direction without an active direction, there must exist a first cause
who has so given this tendency to the will. Thus we have seen that the
order in the world presupposes a supreme intelligent designer, and
that the eternal truths governing all co ntingent reality and every
finite intelligence themselves require an eternal foundation.

Moreover, this passive direction of our will to moral good is not the
only starting-point from which we may argue. We may also begin with
moral obligation as evidenced in its effects, in the remorse felt by
the murderer, for instance. Whence comes this terrible voice of
remorse of conscience which the criminal never succeeds in silencing
in the depths of his soul?

Right reason within us commands us to do good, that rational good to
which our rational nature is directed. Nevertheless it does not
command as a first and eternal cause; for in each of us reason first
of all begins to command, then it slumbers, and is awakened again; it
has many imperfections, many limitations. It is not the principle of
all order, but is itself ordered. We must therefore ascend higher to
that divine wisdom by which everything is directed to the supreme
good.

There alone do we find the ultimate basis of moral obligation or duty.
There is no vicious circle; from the feeling of remorse or from its
contrary, peace of mind, we ascend to conscience. In the approval or
disapproval of conscience lies the explanation of these feelings. We
then look for the source of this voice of conscience. The ultimate
source is not in our imperfect reason, for reason in its commanding
had a beginning. It commands only as secondary cause, presupposing a
first cause that is eternal, simple, and perfect--wisdom itself, by
which everything is directed to the good.

The sovereign good is now no longer presented simply as the supreme
desirable, wherein alone we may find true happiness, if we love it
above all things; it is further presented as the sovereign good which
must be loved above all things, which demands our love and is the
foundation of duty.

From all this it is plain that, if the primary duty toward God the
last end of man is denied, then every other duty is deprived of its
ultimate foundation. If we deny that we are morally bound to love
before all else the good as such and God the sovereign good, what
proof have we that we are bound to love that far less compelling good,
the general welfare of humanity, which is the main object of the
League of Nations? What proof have we that we are bound to love our
country and family more than our life; or that we are bound to go on
living and avoid suicide, even in the most overwhelming afflictions?
If the sovereign good has not an inalienable right to be loved above
all things, then a fortiori inferior goods have no such right. If we
are not morally bound by a last end, then no end or means whatever is
morally binding. If the foundation for moral obligation is not in a
supreme lawgiver, then every human law is deprived of its ultimate
foundation.

Such is the proof for the existence of God as supreme lawgiver and the
sovereign good, who is the foundation of duty. Such is the eminent
origin of the imperious voice of conscience, that voice which torments
the criminal after his crime and gives to the conscientious who have
done their utmost, that peace which comes from duty accomplished.

The moral sanction

In conclusion we shall say a few words about another proof for the
existence of God, a proof closely related to the preceding: that based
on moral sanction.

The consideration of heroic acts unrequited here on earth and of
crimes that go unpunished shows us the necessity of a sovereign judge,
a rewarder and vindicator.

The existence of this sovereign judge and of an eternal sanction may
be proved from the insufficiency of all other sanctions. Kant himself
chose to attach some importance to this argument, but in itself it is
far more convincing than he made it out to be. It may be summed up in
this way:

By perseverance in virtue the just man merits happiness since he has
persevered in doing good. Now the harmony prevailing between virtue
and happiness, in another and better life, is accomplished by God
alone. Therefore God and that other life exist.

The more exalted a man's moral life is, the firmer and livelier is his
conviction resulting from this proof. In reality it presupposes the
preceding proof and is a confirmation of it. If, in fact, the voice of
conscience comes from the supreme lawgiver, then He must also be the
sovereign judge who rewards and vindicates. Because He is intelligent
and good, He owes it to Himself to give to every being what is
necessary for it to attain the end for which He has destined it, and
hence to give to the just that knowledge of truth and that beatitude
which they deserve. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia, q. 21, a. 1.) Furthermore,
since the supreme lawgiver must of necessity love the good above all
things, He owes it to Himself also to compel respect for its absolute
rights and repress their violation (Ia IIae, q. 87, a. 1, 3) .

In other words, if there is order in the physical world and if that
order demands an intelligent designer, much more must there be order
in the moral world, which is on an infinitely higher plane.

Herein is the answer to the complaints of the just who are persecuted
and unjustly condemned by men. How often in this world do the wicked
and indifferent triumph, while upright and high-minded souls, like
Joan of Are, are condemned? Barabbas was even preferred to Jesus;
Barabbas was set free and Jesus was crucified. Injustice cannot have
the last word, especially when it is so flagrant as this. There is a
higher justice; its voice makes itself heard in our conscience and it
will one day restore all things to the true order. Then will be
clearly made manifest the two aspects of the Sovereign Good: His right
to be loved above all things, which is the principle of justice, and
His being essentially self-diffusive, which is the principle of mercy.

These moral proofs for the existence of God are of a nature to
convince any mind that does not try to stifle the interior voice of
conscience. Such a mind will have little difficulty in discovering the
deeper source of this voice directing us to the good, because it comes
from Him who is the good itself.

6. ON THE NATURE OF GOD

We have seen how the classical proofs for the existence of God as
presented by St. Thomas demonstrate the existence of a first mover of
spiritual and corporeal beings, of a first cause of everything that
comes into existence, of a necessary being on which all contingent and
perishable things depend, of a supreme being, the first truth and
sovereign good, and of an intelligent designer, the cause of order in
the universe, to which we rightly give the name providence.

Now it is through these five attributes (first mover, first cause,
etc.) that we have our conception of God. We have thus proved His
existence. We must now go on to state what He is, what formally
constitutes His nature. We cannot otherwise form a right idea of
providence.

The problem

Here on earth, of course, we can have no knowledge of the divine
essence as it is really in itself; for this we must have an intuitive
vision of it as the blessed see it in heaven. Our knowledge of God
here on earth is obtained solely through the reflection of His
perfections in the mirror of created things. Since these are on a
plane far inferior to His, they do not enable us to know Him as He is
in Himself. AS Plato tells us in his allegory of the cave, where God
is concerned we are to some extent like men who have never seen the
sun but simply a reflection of its rays in the things it illuminates;
or like men who have never seen white light but only the seven colors
of the rainbow: violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red.
For such men a right conception of white light would be impossible;
they could have only a negative or relative conception of it as an
inaccessible source of light. It is the same with the divine nature:
we cannot form a proper and positive conception of it through
creatures, for the perfections which in God form an absolute unity are
in creatures multiple and divided.

Here on earth, therefore, it is impossible for us to know the divine
nature as it is in itself. If this were possible, we should see how
all the divine perfections contained in it-such as infinite being,
wisdom, love, justice, mercy - - are really identified, yet without
destroying one another. As it is, we are reduced to spelling out, as
it were, and enumerating these divine perfections one after another,
always with the reservation that they are identified in one
transcendent simplicity, in the higher unity of the Deity or Divinity.
But the Deity or the very essence of God -- that which makes God to be
God -- we do not see, nor shall we ever be able to do so until we
reach heaven. It is as though we were gazing at the sides of a pyramid
the summit of which remains ever invisible.

But, without knowing the divine nature as it is in itself, can we not
determine, so far as our imperfect mode of knowing permits, what it is
that formally constitutes that nature? In other words, among all the
perfections we attribute to God is there not one that is fundamental,
the source as it were of all the divine attributes and likewise the
principle distinguishing God from the world?

Is there not in God some radical perfection having the same function
in Him as rationality in man? Man is defined as a rational being;
this, distinguishing him from inferior beings, is the principle of his
distinctive human characteristics. Because man is rational, he is
free, he is morally responsible for his actions, he is social and
religious, he has the faculty of speech and intelligent laughter.
These characteristics do not exist in the brute beast. We deduce man's
characteristics as we deduce the properties of the triangle or the
circle.

Is there in God some radical perfection also that allows of our
defining Him, according to our imperfect mode of knowledge, in some
such way as we define man, or again as we define a circle or a
pyramid? In other words, is there not a certain order in the divine
perfections, so that from one primary perfection all the rest may be
deduced? This is the statement of the problem.

The various solutions

To the question thus stated various solutions have been given.
Beginning with the least satisfactory, we shall proceed by degrees to
the most profound.

1) Some (Nominalists) have held that in God there is no fundamental
perfection from which the rest may be logically deduced. According to
their view, the divine essence is merely the sum of all the
perfections; there can be no question of seeking a logical order among
them, since they are simply different names for the same transcendent
reality.

This doctrine of Nominalism leads to the conclusion that God is
unknowable, because His attributes cannot be deduced from one
fundamental divine perfection; and, since we can give no reason why He
must be wise or just or merciful, we should simply be asserting the
fact without knowing why.

2) Others, inspired by Descartes, have held that what constitutes the
divine nature is liberty: God is pre- eminently a will transcendently
free. Descartes claimed that, if God so willed, He could make the
circle square, mountains without valleys, or beings that at one and
the same time would exist and not exist, or effects without a cause.
Ockham in the Middle Ages declared that, had God so willed, He could
have commanded us not to love but to hate both ourselves and Him. That
is, the principle of contradiction and the distinction between moral
good and evil are dependent for their truth on the free will of God.
First and foremost God is said to be absolute liberty.

In the opinion of some modern philosophers (Secretan in Switzerland,
for instance) , the correct definition of God is I am what I will, I
am what I would freely be.

In reply to this view, it has been pointed out that liberty cannot be
conceived as anterior to intellect. Liberty without intellect is
impossible; it would be confounded with mere chance. Liberty is
inconceivable without an intellect to direct it; it would be liberty
without standard of any kind, without truth, without true goodness. As
Leibniz remarked, to say that God, if He had wished, could have
commanded us to hate Him, is to deny that He is of necessity the
sovereign good; in that case, had He wished, He might well have been
the Manichean principle of evil. A man would have be out of his senses
to maintain such a position. To claim that God has established the
distinction between good and evil by a purely arbitrary decree, to
claim that He is absolute liberty without standard of any kind, is, as
Leibniz again says, to dishonor God. "

Clearly, then, liberty cannot be conceived without an intellect and
wisdom to direct it, and conversely intellect is conceived as anterior
to the liberty it directs. The knowledge of true good, indeed, is
anterior to the love of that good, which would not be so loved were it
not already known.

Intellect, therefore, is prior to and the cause of liberty. Shall we
say, then, that what formally constitutes the divine nature is
intellect, the ever actual thought or eternal knowledge of the true in
all its fulness? This, of course, is a divine perfection, but is it
the fundamental perfection?

A number of philosophers and theologians thought so. They conceived of
God as pre-eminently a pure i ntellectual flash subsisting eternally.
During a storm at night, an immense streak of lightning may sometimes
be seen, flashing from one extremity of the sky to the other; this,
they would say, is a faint image of God. We also speak of flashes of
genius,  as in the case of Newton's discovery of the great laws of
nature. These are transitory and very confined flashes, revealing what
after all is only a partial truth, like the law of universal
gravitation. God, on the other hand, is a pure intellectual flash
subsisting eternally, who is infinite truth and sees in one glance all
actual and possible worlds, with all their laws. God is, indeed,
eternally subsistent thought itself, truth itself ever actually known.
And why is this? Because intellectual life is the highest form of
life, transcending vegetative plant life and sensitive animal life;
because, too, intellect is anterior to will and liberty, which it
directs by pointing out the good to be desired and loved.

This is all quite true. But is subsistent thought or intellection the
absolutely primary perfection in God? However lofty this way of
conceiving the divine nature may be, it does not seem to be the
highest.

Holy Scripture provides us with a more profound conception of the
divine nature. It tells us that God is being itself; He Himself has
revealed His name to us as "He who is. "

God is the eternally subsisting being

In the Book of Exodus (3: 14) , we are told how God, speaking to Moses
from the burning bush, revealed His name. He did not say, I am
absolute liberty, I am what I will; nor did He say, I am intellect
itself, thought eternally subsistent.  He said, "I am who am, " that
is, the eternally subsistent being

Let us call to mind this passage from Exodus: Moses said to God: Lo, I
shall go to the children of Israel, and say to them: The God of your
fathers hath sent me to you. If they should say to me: What is His
name? what shall I say to them? God said to Moses: I am who am. He
said: Thus shalt thou say to the children of Israel: He who is hath
sent me to you.  He who is: in Hebrew, Yahweh, from which the word
Jehovah has been formed. This is my name forever, and this is my
memorial unto all generations (ibid., 15) .

Again, in the last book of the New Testament (Apocalypse, 1:8) , we
read: I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, saith the Lord
God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty. " (Cf. 1:
4.)

Under this title God has frequently revealed Himself to His saints, to
St. Catherine of Siena, for instance: I am He who is, thou art that
which is not. "

God, then, is not only pure spirit, He is being itself subsisting
immaterial at the summit of all things and transcending any limits
imposed by either space or matter or a finite spiritual essence.

In our imperfect mode of knowledge, must we not say that subsistent
being is the formal constituent of the divine nature?

It would not seem a difficult matter to establish the truth of this.
In fact, what formally constitutes the divine nature is that which in
God we conceive to be the fundamental perfection distinguishing Him
from creatures and the source from which His attributes are deduced.

Now, because God is the self-subsisting being, the infinite ocean of
spiritual being, unlimited, unmaterialized, He is distinguished from
every material or spiritual creature. The divine essence alone is
existence itself, it alone of necessity exists. No creature is
self-existent; none can say: I am being, truth, life, etc. Jesus alone
among men said, I am the truth and the life, " which was equivalent to
saying, I am God. "

Upon this culminating point, namely, the self-subsisting being,
converge the five proofs for the existence of God, as developed by St.
Thomas: the first mover, the first cause, the necessary being, the
supreme being, the intelligent designer of order in the universe. All
these attributes must be predicated of the self-subsisting and
immaterial being who is at the summit of all things. Again, from this
culminating point are deduced all the divine attributes, as the
characteristics of man are deduced from his rationality.

As will be seen more clearly in what follows, the self-subsisting and
immaterial being who is at the summit of all things must be absolutely
one and simple, must be truth itself ever actually known, the good
itself ever actually loved. By reason of His perfect and unique
immateriality He must be intelligence itself, thought itself eternally
subsistent, wisdom itself; subsistent will and love; hence justice and
mercy.

Conversely, we see that justice and mercy presuppose the love of the
good; that love presupposes an intellect which enlightens it; that
intellect presupposes an intelligent being and at the same time an
intelligible being which it contemplates.

It remains true, therefore, that of all the names of God, the primary
and most distinctive is "He who is, " Yahweh. It is pre-eminently His
name, says St. Thomas (Ia, q. 13 a. 11) , and that for three reasons:

1) Because it expresses not one form of being or one particular
essence, but being itself; and God alone is being itself, He alone is
self-existent.

2) It is the most universal name, embracing being in all its fulness,
with all its perfections--the boundless, shoreless, ocean, as it were,
of omnipotent, omniscient, spiritual substance.

3) This name, He who is, " signifies not only being, but the
ever-present being, for whom there is neither past no r future.

Here, then, is what formally constitutes the divine nature according
to our imperfect manner of understanding, which consists in deducing
from this formal constituent the divine attributes, enumerating them
one after another: unity, wisdom, love, justice, mercy and the rest,
yet without ever perceiving how they are fused together and identified
in the intimate life of God, which is the Deity.

The Deity

In this life we can have no knowledge of the Deity, of the divine
nature, such as it really is; for this we should need to have an
intuitive vision of it as the blessed have in heaven, without the
intervention of any created image. Only in heaven shall we see how
wisdom is identical with God's utterly free good pleasure; how, for
all its freedom, this good pleasure is by no means a caprice, since it
is penetrated through and through by wisdom. Then only shall we see
how infinite justice and mercy are identified in the love of the
sovereign good, which has the right to be loved above all else and
which tends to communicate itself to us for our happiness.

The Deity, as it really is, remains for us a secret, a profound
mystery. Indeed, the mystics have called it the Great Darkness, a
light-transcending darkness; it is the light inaccessible spoken of in
Scripture.

Although we cannot have knowledge of the Deity as it really is, we are
permitted to participate in it through sanctifying grace, which is in
very truth a participation in the divine nature as it really is, 
preparing us in this present life to see and love God some day as He
sees and loves Himself. From this we see the value of sanctifying
grace, which far surpasses the natural life of the intellect, whether
in us or even in the angels. This truth leads St. Thomas to remark
that the least degree of sanctifying grace in the soul of a little
child just baptized is of more value than all corporeal and spiritual
natures taken together: The good of grace in one is greater than the
good of nature in the whole universe (Ia IIae, q. 113, a. 9 ad 2um) .

Pascal expresses this well in one of the finest pages of his Pensees:
The least of minds is greater than all material objects, the
firmament, the stars, the earth and its kingdoms; for the mind has
knowledge of all these things and of itself; whereas things material
have no knowledge at all. Bodies and minds, all these taken together
and the effects produced by them, do not equal the least act of
charity. This latter is of an infinitely higher order. From the sum
total of material things there could not possibly issue one little
thought, because thought is of another order. From bodies and minds we
cannot possibly have an act of true charity, for the latter, too, is
of another order, pertaining to the supernatural. The saints have
their realm, their glory, their luster, and have no need of temporal
or spiritual aggrandizement, which in no way affects them, neither
increasing nor decreasing their greatness. The saints are seen by God
and the angels, not by bodies or by curious minds. God suffices for
them. This sums up the value of the hidden life.

In the present life this holiness reveals most clearly, though in the
obscurity of faith, what constitutes the intimate life of God, the
Deity. This it does because holiness, which is the life of grace in
its perfection, is a real, living participation in this same intimate
life of God, preparing us to behold it some future day. Hence those
words of the psalmist (Ps. 67: 36) : God is wonderful in His saints.

PART II :THE PERFECTIONS OF GOD WHICH HIS PROVIDENCE
PRESUPPOSES

7. THE DIVINE SIMPLICITY

We have seen that the formal constituent of the divine nature
according to our imperfect mode of knowledge is subsistent being, for
this distinguishes Him from every other being and is the source from
which all His attributes may be deduced, as man's characteristics are
deduced from the fact that he is a rational being. And now, in order
to have a right idea of providence, we must consider those divine
perfections which it presupposes. A full consideration of these
perfections helps us to a true notion of providence and gradually
leads us to a more exact understanding of it.

We distinguish between the attributes relative to God's being (His
simplicity, infinity, eternity, incomprehensibility) and those
relating to the divine operations (in the intellect, wisdom and
providence; in the will, love with its two great virtues, mercy and
justice; and finally omnipotence) .

All these attributes are absolute perfections, implying no
imperfection, and they may be deduced from what we conceive to be the
formal constituent of the divine nature.

Our Lord said: Be ye perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect. "
Perfect, not merely like the angels, but as our heavenly Father is
perfect; because we have received sanctifying grace, which should be
constantly increasing in us and which is a participation, not in the
angelic nature, but in the divine nature itself. Since, then, every
passing day ought to see in our lives a gradually increasing
participation in these infinite perfections of God, we should
frequently make them the subject of contemplation in our prayer, by
slowly meditating, for instance, on the Our Father.

We shall speak first of God's simplicity, which is so marked a feature
in the ways of divine providence.

The divine simplicity and its reflections

What is simplicity in general? As unity is the non-division of being,
so simplicity is the opposite of composition, complexity, and
complication. The simple is opposed to what is compounded of different
parts, opposed therefore to what is complicated, pretentious, or
tainted with affectation. From the moral point of view simplicity or
integrity is opposed to duplicity.

We speak of a child's outlook as simple because it goes straight to
the point; it has no concealed motives; its inclination is not in
several directions at once. When a child says a thing, it is not
thinking of something else; when it says yes,  it does not mean no; it
is not two-faced or deceitful. Our Lord tells us: If thy eye be single
simple , thy whole body will be lightsome.  That is, if our intention
is straightforward and simple, then there will be a unity, truth, and
transparency in our whole life, instead of its being divided as it is
with those who seek to serve two masters, God and wealth. And when we
consider the complexity of motive, the insincerity we find in the
world and the complications arising from lying and deceit, we cannot
help feeling that the moral virtue of simplicity, of candor and
uprightness, is the reflection of a divine perfection. As St. Thomas
says, Simplicity makes the intention right by excluding duplicity (IIa
IIae, q. 109, a. 2 ad 4um) .

But what is divine simplicity? It is the absence of all compounding of
different parts, the absence of all division.

1) There cannot be in God a distinction of quantitative parts as in
matter. Every material thing has extended parts that are contiguous,
whether these parts are similar as in the diamond, or different, like
the members and the organs of a living being: the eyes, ears, and the
rest.

The simplicity of God, on the contrary, is the simplicity of pure
spirit, incomparably superior to that of the purest diamond, or to the
unity of the most perfect organism. In God we do not find a
distinction of two parts as soul and body, the one giving life to the
other: the latter would be less perfect; it would not be life itself,
but would merely participate in life; it would not be the principle of
all order, but would itself be ordered. No imperfection or composition
of any kind exists in God. Every compound requires a cause uniting the
elements composing it, whereas God is the supreme cause uncaused. His
simplicity therefore is absolute.

2) The simplicity of God far surpasses that of the angels. Of course
an angel is pure spirit, but his essence is not self-existent: it is
merely susceptible or capable of existence; it is not existence
itself. An angel is a compound of finite essence and limited
existence, whereas, as we have seen, God is self-subsisting, purely
immaterial being.

An angel can acquire knowledge only by means of an intellectual
faculty; he can desire only through another faculty, the will. These
two faculties with their successive acts of thought and desire are
accidents distinct from the angel's substance; his substance remains
always the same while his thoughts succeed one another. In God, on the
other hand, there can be no question of composition of substance and
accidents, because the divine substance is the fulness of being, the
fulness also of truth ever apprehended and of goodness ever loved. In
Him no succession of thoughts takes place: there is but one
unchanging, subsistent thought, embracing all truth. In Him no
successive acts of will occur; there is but one subsistent, unchanging
act of will, which is directed to all that He wills.

Therefore divine simplicity or divine unity, is the absence of all
composition and division in being, thought, and volition.

3) The simplicity of God's intellect is that of the intuitive glance,
excluding all error and ignorance, and directed from above and
unchangingly upon all knowable truth.

The simplicity of His will or intention is that of a transcendently
pure intention, disposing all things admirably and permitting evil
only in view of a greater good.

But the most beautiful feature of God's simplicity is that it unites
within itself perfections that are apparently at opposite extremes:
absolute immutability and absolute liberty, infinite wisdom and a good
pleasure so free as to seem at times to be arbitrariness; or again,
infinite justice inexorable toward unrepented sin, and infinite mercy.
All these infinite perfections are fused together and identified in
God's simplicity, yet without destroying one another. In this
especially consists the transcendence and splendor of this divine
attribute.

We have a reflection of this exalted simplicity in a child's
simplicity of outlook, and to a greater degree in that of the saints,
rising above the frequently deceitful entanglements of the world and
all sorts of duplicity.

Let us now come down once more to creatures. We find a vast difference
between the simplicity of God, with the holiness it reflects, and the
seeming simplicity which consists in giving vent to everything that
comes into our heart and mind at the risk of contradicting ourselves
from one day to the next when impressions have altered and people with
whom we live have ceased to please us. This seeming simplicity is
sheer fickleness and contradiction, a complication therefore and a
more or less conscious lie. God's simplicity, on the other hand, is an
unalterable unity, the simplicity of unchanging supreme wisdom and of
the purest and strongest love of the good, remaining ever the same and
infinitely surpassing our susceptibility and unstable opinions.

We have a glimpse of this divine simplicity when we consider the soul
that has acquired a simple outlook, so that it is now able to judge of
all things wisely in the light of God and to desire nothing but for
His sake. The complex soul, on the other hand, is one that bases all
its judgments on the varying impressions caused by the emotions and
that desires things from motives of self-interest with its changing
caprices, now clinging to them obstinately, now changing with every
mood or with time and circumstances. And whereas the complex soul is
agitated by mere trifles, the soul that has acquired simplicity of
purpose, by reason of its wisdom and unselfish lo ve, is always at
rest. The gift of wisdom brings peace, that tranquillity which comes
from order, together with that unity and harmony which characterize
the simplified life united with God.

The souls of such men as St. Joseph, St. John, St. Francis, St.
Dominic, the Cure of Ars give us some idea of this simplicity of God;
but still more the soul of Mary, and especially the holy soul of
Jesus, who said: If thy eye be single, thy whole body shall be
lightsome.  That is, if your soul is simple in its outlook, it will be
in all things enlightened, steadfast, loyal, sincere, and free from
all duplicity. Be ye wise as serpents so as not to be seduced by the
world , and simple as doves,  so as to remain always in God's truth. I
confess to Thee, O Father,... because Thou hast hid these things from
the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to little ones.  Let your
speech be yea, yea: no, no (Matt. 10: 16; 11: 25; 5: 37) -

In the Old Testament we read: Seek the Lord in simplicity of heart
(Wis. 1: 1) ; Better is the poor man that walketh in his simplicity,
than a rich man that is perverse in his lips and unwise (Prov. 19:1) .
Let us all die in our innocency,  cried the Machabees amid the
injustices that oppressed them (I Mach. 2:37) . Obey... in simplicity
of heart,  said St. Paul (Col. 3: 22) ; and he admonishes the
Corinthians not to lose the simplicity that is in Christ" (II Cor. 11:
3) .

This simplicity, says Bossuet, enables an introverted soul to
comprehend even the heights of God, the ways of Providence, the
unfathomable mysteries which to a complex soul are a scandal, the
mysteries of infinite justice and mercy, and the supreme liberty of
the divine good pleasure. All these mysteries, in spite of their
transcendence and obscurity, are simple for those of simple vision.

The reason is that, in divine matters, the simplest things, such as
the Our Father, are also the most profound. On the other hand, in the
things of this world, containing both good and evil closely
intermingled and thereby exceedingly complex, anybody who is simple is
lacking in penetration and will remain naive, unsuspecting, and
shallow. In the things of God simplicity is combined with depth and
loftiness; for the sublimest of divine things as also the deepest
things of our heart, are simplicity itself.

The perfect image of God's simplicity

The purest and most exalted image that has been given us of the divine
simplicity is the holiness of Jesus, which embraces, as it were fused
together, virtues to all appearances at opposite extremes. Let us call
to mind the simplicity He displayed in His relations with His
adversaries, with His heavenly Father, and with souls.

To the Pharisees, wishing to put Him to death, He says without fear of
contradiction: Which of you shall convince me of sin? (John 8:46.)
Their duplicity aroused His holy indignation: Woe to you scribes and
Pharisees, hypocrites; because you shut the kingdom of heaven against
men, for you yourselves do not enter in; and those that are going in,
you suffer not to enter.... Woe to you, blind guides... you are like
to whited sepulchers, which outwardly appear to men beautiful, but
within are full of dead men's bones, and of all filthiness (Matt. 23:
13, 25, 27) .

Referring to His heavenly Father, He says: My meat is to do the will
of Him that sent me.... I do always the things that please Him.... I
honor my Father.... I seek not my own glory (John 4: 34; 8: 29, 49,
50) . My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me.
Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.  Father, into Thy hands
I commend My spirit.  It is consummated (Matt. 26:39; Luke 23: 46;
John 19: 30) .

And lastly, with regard to the faithful, He says: Learn of Me, because
I am meek, and humble of heart; and you shall find rest to your souls
(Matt. 11: 29) . Such is this simplicity of His that He alone can
speak of His own humility without losing it.

He is the good shepherd of souls, who prefers the company of the poor
and the weak, the afflicted and little children, and of sinners too,
in order to win them back. He is the good shepherd, who in all
simplicity gives His life for His sheep, praying for His executioners
and saying to the good thief: This day thou shalt be with Me in
paradise (Luke 23: 43) .

But the most astonishing feature of our Lord's simplicity is that it
unites in itself virtues that to all appearances are at opposite
extremes, and each virtue carried to its highest degree of perfection.

In Him are reconciled in a simple unity that holy severity of justice
He metes out to the hypocritical Pharisees and the abounding mercy He
displays toward all those souls whose shepherd He is; and the rigor of
His justice is always subordinate to the love of the good from which
it proceeds.

In Him are reconciled in the greatest simplicity the most profound
humility and the loftiest dignity, magnanimity or grandeur of soul. He
lived for thirty years the hidden life of a poor artisan, saying that
He came not to be ministered unto but to minister. He fled to the
mountain when they would have made Him king, washed the feet of His
disciples on Holy Thursday, and for our sake accepted the final
humiliations of the passion. On the other hand, during the same
passion with lofty dignity He proclaimed the universality of His
kingdom. Pilate said to Him: Art Thou the king of the Jews?... What
hast Thou done?... Jesus answered: Thou sayest that I am a king. For
this was I born, and for this came I into the world; that I should
give testimony to the truth. Everyone that is of the truth, heareth My
voice (John 18: 33 ff.) . With simplicity and noble majesty He
answered Caiphas, who adjured Him to declare whether He was the son of
God: Thou hast said it. Nevertheless I say to you, hereafter you shall
see the Son of man sitting on the right hand of the power of God, and
coming in the clouds of heaven (Matt. 26: 64) .

This profound humility and lofty dignity are found reconciled in
Jesus' simplicity. Yet He, the humblest of men, was condemned for an
alleged crime of blasphemy and pride.

In Him likewise are reconciled the most perfect gentleness, which
constrained Him to pray for His executioners, and the most heroic
fortitude in martyrdom, abandoned as He was by His own people and by
all but a few of His disciples in the saddest hours of the passion and
crucifixion. This simplicity of His had such nobility about it that
the centurion, witnessing His death, could not help but glorify God,
saying that indeed this was a just man (Luke 23: 47) .

Great and wondrously sublime is simplicity when it thus reconciles in
itself these apparently opposite virtues. It is the highest expression
of the beautiful. For the beautiful is harmony, the splendor arising
out of unity and diversity; and the greater the diversity, the more
profound is the unity, the more extraordinary is the beauty. It then
is rightly called sublime. In very truth it is the image of that
divine simplicity which reconciles within itself infinite wisdom and
the freest good pleasure, infinite justice, inexorable at times, and
infinite mercy, all the energy of love combined with all its
tenderness.

For this reason God alone can produce in the soul this surpassing
simplicity, which is the image of His own. In us temperament is
determined in one particular direction, inclining us either to
indulgence or to severity, to a broad and comprehensive view of
things, or to practical details, but not both ways at once. If, then,
a soul with perfect simplicity practices at one and the same time
virtues that are apparently extreme opposites, it is because almighty
God is very intimately present in the soul, impressing His likeness
upon it.

Bossuet (discours sur l'histoire universelle, Part II, chap. 19)
expresses this thought beautifully when he says: Who would not admire
the condescension with which Jesus tempers His doctrine? It is milk
for babes and, taken as a whole, is bread also for the strong. We see
Him abounding in the secrets of God, yet He is not astonished thereby,
as other mortals are with whom God holds communion. He speaks of these
things as one born to these secrets and to this glory. And what He
possesses without measure (John 3:34) , He dispenses with moderation
so as to adapt it to our infirmities.

Pascal in his Pensees gives similar expression to our Lord's
simplicity, the purest image of the simplicity of God:

Jesus Christ, without wealth or fortune or display of scientic
knowledge, is in an order of holiness all His own. He was neither an
inventor nor a monarch; but He was humble, patient, holy, holy to God,
free from all sin. To those loving eyes that perceive the wisdom in
Him, with what stupendous magnificence He came!... Never had man such
repute, never did man incur greater ignominy.... From whom did the
Evangelists learn the qualities of a supremely heroic soul, that they
picture it so perfectly in Jesus Christ? Why did they make Him weak in
His agony? Did they not know how to picture a death borne with
constancy? Yes indeed, for the same St. Luke pictures the death of St.
Stephen as more bravely born than that of Jesus Christ. They make Him
susceptible of fear before the necessity of dying arose, but full of
fortitude thereafter. When therefore they portray Him as being so
sorrowful, it is because in that hour His sorrow is self- inflicted
(desiring to experience the crushing burden of anguish in order to
suffer even that for us) ; but, when He is afflicted by men, it is
then His fortitude is supreme, with that strength which is their
salvation.

This simplicity of Jesus, purest image of God's simplicity, is
apparent in every detail of His life. Pere Grou remarks: It is
impossible to speak of things so exalted, so divine, in a simpler way.
The prophets appear to be struck with amazement at the great truths
they proclaim.... Jesus is self-possessed in all that He says, because
He is drawing on His own resources... the treasury of His knowledge is
within Him and in communicating it He does not exhaust it" (Linterieur
de Jesus, chap. 29) .

Thus we are able to form some faint idea of the simplicity of God, the
simplicity of His being, thought, and love. It is a simplicity uniting
in its transcendence such apparently opposite attributes as justice
and mercy, uniting without destroying them, but, on the other hand,
containing them in their pure state without any imperfection or
diminution. It will be granted us to behold this simplicity in eternal
life, if gradually each day we draw nigh to it in simplicity of heart,
without which there can be no contemplation of God and no true love.

8. THE INFINITY OF GOD

We have seen how the simplicity of God, the simplicity of pure spirit,
of being itself, unites within itself, to the exclusion of all real
distinction, such apparently opposite perfections as justice and
mercy. We have seen, too, how this divine simplicity is reflected in
the outlook of a child, in that of the saints. But it is seen
especially in the exalted simplicity of our Lord's holy soul, which,
like the divine simplicity, unites within itself such seemingly
opposite virtues as the most profound humility and the most grandiose
magnanimity, the most compassionate gentleness and the most heroic
fortitude, a rigorous justice and a most tender mercy.

We must now consider another attribute of the divine Being, His
infinity: without it we can have no conception of divine wisdom or
providence.

This attribute at first sight appears to be opposed to the preceding;
for our intellect, always more or less a slave to the imagination,
represents the divine simplicity as a point like the apex of a
pyramid. Now a point is indivisible and without extension, and hence
is not infinite. How can God be both supremely simple and infinite?

The reason is that the divine simplicity is not that of a point in
space; it is a spiritual simplicity, far transcending space and the
point. Again, the infinity of God is an infinity of perfection, far
transcending what might be the material infinity of a world that would
have no limits.

Many errors about the divine infinity are the result of confusing the
quantitative infinity of unlimited extension or of time without
beginning, with the qualitative infinity of, say, infinite wisdom and
infinite love. But the difference between them is enormous; it is the
same as the difference between corporeal beings and the infinitely
perfect pure Spirit.

Nor must we confuse this infinity of perfection, in the highest degree
determinate and so complete as to admit of no increase, with the
indetermination of matter, which is capable of receiving forms of
every kind. These are at opposite poles: on the one hand, we have the
absolutely imperfect indetermination of matter, and on the other, the
supremely perfect infinity of the pure Spirit, who is being itself.

The a priori proof of the divine infinity

How do we prove the divine infinity thus conceived as an infinity of
perfection?

A beautiful proof is given us by St. Thomas (Ia, q. 7, a. 1) . It is a
proof that will appeal to the artist. St. Thomas notes that the
artistic ideal, the ideal form as conceived by the artist--the form,
for instance, of the statue of Moses in the mind of
Michelangelo--possesses a certain infinity of perfection before it is
materialized or limited to a particular portion of matter and
localized in space. For in the mind of Michelangelo this ideal form of
the Moses is independent of any material limitation, and may be
produced indefinitely in marble, clay, or bronze. The same applies to
any ideal form whatever, even the specific form of things in nature:
the specific form of a lily, for instance, or of a rose, a lion, or an
eagle.

Before being materialized or limited to a particular portion of matter
and localized in space, these specific forms have a certain formal
infinity or infinity of perfection, which consists in their being
independent of all material limitation. Thus the idea of a lily
transcends all particular lilies, the idea of an eagle transcends all
those eagles whose essence it expresses. It is a principle that "every
form, before being received into matter, possesses a certain infinity
of perfection. "

Now, as St. Thomas notes, it is a simple matter to apply this
principle to God; for of all formal perfections the most perfect is
not that of a lily or an eagle or the ideal man, but that of being or
existence, which is the ultimate actuality of all things. Every
perfection in the universe is something susceptible of existence, but
none is existence itself; it can receive existence as matter receives
the form of a lily or a rose.

If, therefore, God is self-existent, St. Thomas concludes, if He is
being, existence itself, He is also infinite, not in quantity but in
quality or perfection. If the ideal lily is independent of every
individual material limitation, the self-subsisting being will
transcend every limitation whatsoever, not only of space and matter
but of essence also. Even the most perfect angel has no more than a
finite existence conditioned by the limitations of his spiritual
essence; whereas in God existence is not received into an essence
susceptible of existence: He is the unreceived and eternally
subsistent existence.

God is thus in the highest degree determinate, perfect, complete: He
is absolutely incapable of receiving additions. He is at the same time
infinite with an unlimited perfection, and incomprehensible, the
infinite ocean of being, " says St. John Damascene, but a spiritual
ocean, boundless, shoreless, far transcending space and the point and
infinitely surpassing a material world supposedly infinite or
limitless in quantity.

It is at once the infinity of being, of pure spirit, of wisdom,
goodness, love and power; for infinity is a mode of all the
attributes.

Such is the a priori proof as given by St. Thomas. It proceeds from
the principle that every form, like that of a lily, before being
received into matter, possesses a certain infinity of perfection. Now
the most formal element, the ultimate actuality in all things is
existence. Therefore God, who is being, existence itself, is infinite
with an infinity of perfection transcending every limitation, whether
of space or of matter or even of essence. He thus infinitely surpasses
every material thing and every created pure spirit.

The a posteriori proof of the divine infinity

There is another, an a posteriori proof of the divine infinity, which
shows that the production of finite things ex nihilo, their creation
from nothing, presupposes an infinitely active power which can belong
only to an infinitely perfect cause. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia, q. 45, a.
5.)

In fact the only way a finite cause can produce its effect is by
transforming an already existing object capable of such
transformation. Thus a sculptor, in order to carve his statue,
requires a material; so also a teacher gradually forms the
intelligence of his pupil, but he did not give him intelligence.

The greater the poverty of the object to be transformed, the greater
must be the wealth and fecundity of the transforming active power. The
poorer the soil, the more it must be cultivated, good seed sown in it
and fertilized. But what if the soil is so poor as to be altogether
worthless? It would then require an active power, not only exceedingly
rich and fruitful, but infinitely perfect; and this is creative power.

Created agents are transformative, not creative. To produce the entire
being of any finite thing whatever, no matter how minute--to produce
the total entity of a grain of sand, for instance, to produce it from
nothing--an infinite power is required, a power that can belong only
to infinitely perfect Being. It follows, therefore, that the first
cause of everything that comes into existence must be infinitely
perfect.

Not only was it impossible for even the most exalted angel to create
the physical universe, but he cannot create so much as a speck of
dust; and it will ever be so. To create anything out of nothing--that
is, without any pre- existing subject whatever--an infinite power is
required.

Against this traditional and revealed teaching, pantheism urges a
somewhat trivial objection. To the infinite, it says, nothing can be
added; if therefore the universe is added to the being of God, as a
new reality, the being of God is not infinite.

It is easy to answer this. There can be no addition made to the
infinite in the same order: that is, no addition can be made to its
being, its wisdom, its goodness, its power. But there is no repugnance
whatever in something being added in a lower order, as an effect is
added to the transcendent cause producing it. To deny this would be to
refuse to the infinite Being the power of producing an effect distinct
from Himself; He would then no longer be infinite.

But if this is so, the pantheist insists, more being and perfection
will exist after the production of created things than before, which
is equivalent to saying that the greater comes from the less.

The traditional answer given in theology is, that after creation many
beings exist, but there is not more being or more perfection than
before. Similarly, when a great teacher like St. Thomas has trained
several pupils, there are many that are learned, but there is no more
learning than before unless the pupils excel their master in
knowledge. This being so, we can with even greater truth say that
after creation the world has many beings but not more being, many
living beings but not more life, many intellects but not more wisdom.
He who is infinite being, infinite life, infinite wisdom, already
existed before creation, containing in Himself in an eminent degree
the limited perfections of created beings.

Such is the infinity of God, an infinity of perfection which is the
plenitude not of quantity or extension, but of being, life, wisdom,
holiness, and love.

We are made for the Infinite

In this mystery of the divine infinity we find the practical and
important lesson that we are made for the Infinite; to know infinite
truth and to love the infinite good, which is God.

The proof of this truth lies in the fact that the two higher faculties
in us, intellect and will, have an infinite range.

Whereas our senses apprehend only a sensible mode of being, whereas
the eye apprehends only color and our ear perceives only sound, the
intellect grasps the being or reality of things, their existence. It
perceives that being, subject to varying degrees of limitation, in the
stone, the plant, the brute, and in man, does not of itself involve
limitations. And so our intellect, far surpassing sense and
imagination, aspires to a knowledge of finite beings and also of the
infinite being, so far, at any rate, as such a knowledge is possible
for us. Our intellect aspires to a knowledge not merely of the
multiple and restricted truths of physics, mathematics, or psychology,
but of the supreme and infinite truth, the transcendent source of all
other truths. What we tell children in the catechism is this: Why did
God make you? God made me to know Him.  And we add: To love Him, and
to serve Him in this world, and to be happy with Him forever in the
next.

As our intellect has an unlimited range, and is able to have knowledge
of being in all its universality and hence of the supreme Being, so
also our will has an unlimited range. The will is directed by the
intellect, which conceives not merely a particular sensible good that
is delectable or useful, such as a fruit or a tool, but it conceives
good as such, moral good, virtues such as justice and courage. It even
reaches out beyond some special moral good, such as the object of
justice or temperance, and apprehends universal good, good of whatever
kind, everything in fact that is capable of perfecting us. Lastly, our
intellect, far superior to the senses, ascends to a knowledge of the
supreme and infinite good, in which every other good has its source;
then the will, illumined by the intellect, desires this supreme and
infinite good. The will has a range and unlimited capacity, which can
be satisfied in God alone, as we explained at some length in Part I,
chapter 4, where we spoke of the sovereign good and the natural desire
for happiness.

Nevertheless our intellect and will are not destined naturally to know
and love God in His intimate life. In that God is the author of
nature, they can attain to Him in the natural order only because His
perfections are reflected in created things.

In baptism a supernatural life and inclination were given to us, far
surpassing our natural faculties of intellect and will. We received
sanctifying grace, which is a participation in the divine nature and
the intimate life of God; and with grace we received faith, hope, and
charity, which give a vaster and more exalted range to our higher
faculties.

We now gradually obtain a better grasp of the meaning and import of
those words of the catechism: Why did God make you? God made me to
know Him, to love Him, and to serve Him in this world, and to be happy
with Him forever in the next.

The purpose of our existence, therefore, is to acquire not a merely
natural knowledge and love of the infinite God as the author of
nature, but a supernatural knowledge and love, the beginning of that
eternal life in which we shall see and love God even as He sees and
loves Himself.

We shall then have an intuitive vision of that spiritual infinite,
which is God, a light infinitely strong and soft. Its brightness we
shall be able to bear because our intellect will be elevated and
fortified by the light of glory. We shall have an intuitive vision of
that God who is infinite goodness, combining all the strength of
justice with all the tenderness of mercy. And this supernatural
elevation to the immediate vision and love of infinite truth and
goodness will be ours forever; it will be a continuous vision and love
that nothing henceforth will interrupt or diminish.

Yet in one sense the infinite will still surpass us; because our
vision of the divine essence will never be the same as the vision God
has of Himself, which is completely comprehensive. In heaven each one
of the blessed has this intuitive vision of God, but with a power of
penetration in proportion to their merits and the intensity of their
charity. Similarly here on earth we all have direct vision of a
landscape stretching out before us, but we see it better if our sight
is keener. In heaven our vision of the infinite God will be immediate,
but proportionate to the intensity of our charity and the light of
glory. Great saints like the Apostles will see Him better, and their
vision will be more penetrating than ours; but they, too, will be
surpassed by St. Joseph, and St. Joseph by the Blessed Virgin; and
surpassing her, the holy soul of Christ united to the person of the
Word. It is pleasant to think that the Blessed Virgin, whose intellect
is naturally inferior to that of the angels, has nevertheless a better
vision of the divine essence than even the most exalted of them. Since
her charity surpasses theirs, she has received the light of glory in a
higher degree, inferior only to that of the human intellect of Jesus.

Such is the spiritual lesson we receive in this mystery of the divine
infinity. We are made for the Infinite: to know God in His intimate
life and to love Him above all things. That is why nothing in this
world can really sa tisfy us and why we are free to respond or not to
the attraction offered by finite good. Each time we experience within
ourselves the limitations and the poverty of these perishable things,
we should give thanks to God; for it gives us the opportunity,
amounting sometimes to an urgent necessity, of pondering on the
infinite riches, the infinite fulness of truth and goodness that are
in Him.

9. The Immensity Of God

God, we have said, is infinite: not in quantity, as though He were an
unlimited material body, but in quality or perfection, the only kind
of infinity possible with Him who is purest spirit, who is being
itself subsisting in His immateriality at the summit of all things.
This infinity is a mode of all His attributes, and thus we speak of
His infinite wisdom, His infinite goodness, His infinite power.

And now, if we are to have a right idea of providence and its
universal scope including every age and every place, we must consider
the divine immensity and eternity in their relation to space and time,
which are on an infinitely lower plane.

If we consider the perfect being of God as related to space, we
attribute to Him immensity and ubiquity. When we say He is immense, we
mean that He is immeasurable and able to be in every place. In
attributing ubiquity to Him, we affirm that He is actually present
everywhere. Before creation God was immense, but He was not actually
present in all things, since things as yet did not exist.

It would be a gross error to picture the divine immensity as unlimited
space, and it is equally false to conceive the divine eternity as
unlimited time, as we shall see later on.

God is pure spirit: there cannot be parts in Him as there are in what
is extended; we cannot distinguish in Him the three spatial
dimensions, length, breadth, and height or depth. When we apply these
terms occasionally to the divine intellect, we do so purely by way of
metaphor. In reality, God infinitely transcends space, even unlimited
space, as the divine eternity infinitely transcends time, even
unlimited time.

It was in attributing this spatial immensity to God that Spinoza
erred. Were it so, God would no longer be pure spirit but would have a
body, and thus one part of Him would be less perfect than another; He
would not be perfection itself. Hence the divine immensity is not
something material, but spiritual, and in an order infinitely
transcending space.

If we would have some idea of the majesty of this divine perfection,
three quite distinct modes of divine presence must be considered:

1) The general presence of God in all things by His immensity.

2) The special presence of God in the souls of the just.

3) The unique presence of the Word in the humanity of our Savior, and
the reflection of this presence in the Church and in the vicar of
Christ.

The general presence of God by His immensity

God is everywhere. What meaning are we to give to this phrase which so
often occurs in Holy Scripture? First, God is everywhere by His power,
to which all things are subjected, through which also He sets every
being in motion, and directs it to action. Secondly, God is everywhere
by His presence, in that all things are known to Him. All things are
laid bare to His sight, even to the minutest detail, to the most
profound secrets of our hearts and the innermost recesses of
conscience. Lastly, God is present by His essence, in that by His
preservative action, which is identical with His very being, He
maintains every creature in existence.

Moreover, as in creation God's action is immediate without any
creature or instrument intervening, so too His preservative action,
which is the continuation of His creative act, is exercized
immediately in every creature and upon what is most intimate in them,
their very being. He is thus present even to those far distant nebulae
which our telescopes barely succeed in bringing to view.

Therefore God, though not corporeal, is everywhere, not as a material
body is in place, but by a simple virtual contact of His creative and
preservative power, wherever in fact there are bodies to be maintained
in existence. Besides this, in a sphere of being transcending space,
He is present to every spirit, whom He maintains in being as He does
the rest of creatures.

And so God as pure spirit is in every being, in every soul, of which
He is the transcendent center as the apex of the pyramid contains in a
transcendent manner all its sides. God is that spiritual force which
maintains everything in existence. As the liturgy has it:

Rerum Deus tenax vigor Immotus in te permanens.

(God powerful sustainer of all things Thou who dost remain permanently
unmoved.)

The special presence of God in the just

There is another presence of God, which is peculiar to the soul in the
state of grace whether on earth, in purgatory, or in heaven. God is no
longer present simply as conserving cause -- as such He is within even
inanimate bodies -- but He dwells in the souls of the just as in a
temple, the object of a quasi-experimental knowledge and love.

Our Lord said: If any man love me, he will keep my word. And my Father
will love him: and we will come to him and will make our abode with
him (John 14: 23) . What is meant by We will come? Who will come? Is
it simply created grace? No, in the souls of the just the three divine
Persons come to take up their abode: the Father and the Son, and with
them the Holy Ghost, whom the Son has promised.

This is what the Apostle St. John understood it to mean when he said:
God is charity: and he that abideth in charity, abideth in God, and
God in him (I John 4: 16) .

However great the earthly distance separating souls that are in the
state of grace, be it from Rome to Japan, it is the same God who
dwells in them all, enlightening, strengthening, and drawing them to
Himself.

The same is brought out by St. Paul (I Cor. 3: 16) : Know you not that
you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?
Know you not that your members are the temple of the Holy Ghost, who
is in you, whom you have from God: and you are not your own? For you
are bought with a great price. Glorify and bear God in your body
(ibid., 6: 19-20) , that is, by comporting yourselves in a manner
worthy of Him. And St. Paul says to the Romans (5:5) : The charity of
God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, who is given to
us. "

This sublime doctrine was a commonplace in the early Church: the
martyrs proclaimed it openly before their judges. Thus St. Lucy of
Syracuse answers the judge Paschasius: Words can never be wanting to
those who bear within them the Holy Ghost.  Is the Holy Ghost within
thee, then? Yes, all who lead a chaste and upright life are the
temples of the Holy Ghost. "

The creeds and councils of the Church, the Council of Trent, for
instance, affirm that the Blessed Trinity dwells in the souls of the
just as in a temple and from time to time makes its presence felt by a
more luminous inspiration, a more profound peace, like that which the
disciples experienced as they conversed with our Lord on the way to
Emmaus (Luke 24: 42) : Was not our heart burning within us, whilst He
spoke in the way, and opened to us the Scripture? In fine, as St. Paul
says to the Romans (8: 16) , the Spirit Himself giveth testimony to
our spirit that we are the sons of God.

God makes this special presence of His felt in us by that filial love
for Him with which He himself inspires us and which, like the peace it
brings us, can come only from Him. (Cf. St. Thomas, Comment. in Ep. ad
Rom., 8: 16.)

The unique presence of God in the humanity of Jesus

Surpassing the general presence of God in all things, even His special
presence in the souls of the just, is that unique and quite
exceptional presence of the Word in the humanity of Jesus.

This presence of the Word in the sacred humanity of Jesus is not, as
in the saints, a purely accidental union of knowledge and love. It is
a union that is substantial in the sense that the Word assumed and
made His own forever the humanity of Jesus which consisted of His holy
soul and His body virginally conceived. There is thus in Jesus Christ
but one Person, possessing both the divine nature and a human nature
without mutual confusion, in some such way as each one of us possesses
his soul and body unconfused.

Obviously this substantial union of Christ's humanity with the Word of
God immeasurably surpasses both the general presence of God in all
things by immensity and even that special presence of His in the souls
of the just on earth, in purgatory, or in heaven.

Moreover, in the sacred humanity of Jesus there is a wonderful
participation in the divine immensity, since by Eucharistic
consecration His body is made present throughout the world on every
altar where the consecrated host is reserved. His body is present
there not as localized in space, but after the manner of substance.
Substance is not of itself extended; in certain respects it transcends
extension and space; and this helps us to understand how the selfsame
body of Christ remaining present in heaven can, without being
multiplied, become really present throughout the world in every
tabernacle where there are consecrated hosts. We have here a remote
likeness to that presence by which God Himself is in every material
being, maintaining it in existence; it is a reflection of the divine
immensity.

A further reflection of this divine perfection is seen in that
universal sway exerted by the Church simultaneously in every quarter
of the globe. In a certain sense we can say that the Church is
everywhere present upon the face of the earth, for the soul of the
Church includes all who are in the state of grace. Moreover, the
Church, being both one and catholic, exercises the same supernatural
influence wherever the Gospel is preached.

In spite of the diversity of nations, races, manners, customs, and
institutions, the Church, wheresoever her influence extends, effects a
unity of faith and hierarchical obedience; unity of worship,
especially in the Mass; one common nourishment in communion; unity of
life, since all must find their nourishment in Jesus Christ; unity of
Christian dispositions, of hope and charity. Since grace here on earth
and glory hereafter are the principle of life for all, they have in
the merits of Christ the same resources and a common inheritance in
eternal life.

Now the Church thus present among the nations for nearly two thousand
years would not be able to exercise this influence of hers without the
supreme pastor appointed by our lord to be His vicar. The exercise of
papal and ep iscopal jurisdiction preserves intact the doctrines of
the Gospel in the bosom of the Church through an infallible teaching
office, and safeguards Christian morality and Christian perfection by
maintaining the divine law and imposing ecclesiastical laws, and
safeguards Christian worship also through the various forms of the
liturgy.

Christ Jesus promised to St. Peter and his successors and conferred on
them the primacy of jurisdiction over the universal Church (Matt. 16:
16; John 21: 15) . He also said to them: I am with you all days, even
to the consummation of the world. "

To sum up, then: God, pure spirit, is immense and everywhere present
inasmuch as through His creative power He maintains in existence and
sets in motion every creature, corporeal and spiritual, and all things
are laid bare to His sight, even the most intimate secrets of the
heart, secrets that not even the angels can discern by their natural
knowledge.

Besides this universal presence in every creature, there is that
special presence of God in the souls of the just, who are in the state
of grace. He is within them as in a temple, to be known and loved by
them, and He makes His presence felt there from time to time in that
filial love for Him which He alone can inspire.

In a manner still more distinctive the Word of God is present in the
humanity of Christ, with which He is united not merely in an
accidental way through knowledge and love, but substantially, forming
with it but one Person, one being, yet without confusion of the two
natures.

As a wonderful reflection of the divine immensity, our Savior's sacred
humanity is really and substantially present throughout the world in
every tabernacle where the consecrated host is reserved. Everywhere it
is the same body of the Savior, unmultiplied yet really present, after
the manner of substance -- a remote resemblance to that presence by
which God is within all creatures as pure spirit and unmultiplied,
maintaining them in existence.

And lastly, there is that other reflection of the divine immensity in
the vicar of Christ. As visible head of the Church, through the
influence of his teaching and jurisdiction he is present to the entire
Church. In a certain sense he reaches out to each one of the faithful
in every clime and nation, preserving them all in the unity of faith,
obedience, and worship, of hope and charity, and as supreme shepherd
leading them on to the eternal pastures.

As in God this space-transcending immensity is united with an eternity
that transcends time, so is it with the po wer of the pastoral office
in the Church. It extends to all the faithful in space, and also
extends to them all as they succeed one another in time, from the
foundation of the Church until the end of the world.

The majesty of the Church is most clearly seen when viewed in the
higher light of the divine perfections reflected in her: the divine
immensity in her catholicity, the divine eternity in her
indefectibility, the divine unity and holiness in her own unity and
holiness.

Dominating the various dioceses and religious orders, the majesty of
the Church is already a participation in the majesty of Christ and of
God Himself. In spite of human shortcomings, which creep in wherever
men are to be found, this supernatural beauty of the Church is clearly
the beauty of God's own kingdom.

We should rid ourselves of the habit of viewing things horizontally
and superficially, as if all had the same value and importance. This
is a materialist point of view, a leveling conception that blots out
all elevation and depth. We should accustom ourselves rather to look
down upon things vertically, so to speak, or in their depth. Above all
is God, pure spirit, unchangeable, eternal, immense, conserving and
giving life to all things. Then comes the humanity of our Savior, the
channel through which every grace is transmitted to us and which is
present in all the tabernacles of the world. Lower still is our Lady,
the mediatrix and coredemptrix; and after her the saints; then come
the supreme pastor of the Church and the bishops. After them the
faithful who are in the state of grace and those Christians also who,
though not in the state of grace, yet as Catholics, keep the faith as
revealed by God. And last of all are those souls who are seeking for
the truth and those, too, who are still wandering astray, who yet at
certain moments receive from God and our Lord graces of illumination
and inspiration.

This way of looking at things as it were perpendicularly or, if you
will, in their height and depth rather than superficially, is
precisely that contemplation which proceeds from faith illumined by
the gifts of understanding and wisdom. It should normally be
accompanied by a prayer that is catholic, or universal -- a prayer
ascending to the eternity and immensity of God through the Sacred
Heart of Jesus and the intercession of Mary. Such a prayer begs God to
pour out the abundance of His mercy upon the supreme pastor of the
Church, upon the bishops and generals of orders, and upon all the
faithful, that they may be loyal to the vocation to which they have
been called, responding to whatever God demands of them, and so walk
in the path of holiness that leads to Him.

10. THE ETERNITY OF GOD

Having discussed the divine immensity in its relation to space, we
must now consider God's eternity in relation to time. Without it we
can have no conception of Providence, whose decrees are eternal.

Let us examine the wrong notion people sometimes have of this divine
eternity, and then we shall better understand the true definition of
it, which is likewise a very beautiful

What is eternity?

There is a partially erroneous conception of the divine eternity
current among those who are content to define it as a duration without
beginning and without end, thinking of it vaguely as time without
limit either in the past or in the future.

Such a notion of eternity is inadequate: because a time that had no
beginning, no first day, would always be, nevertheless, a succession
of days and years and centuries, a succession embracing a past, a
present, and a future. That is not eternity at all. We might go back
in the past and number the centuries without ever coming to an end,
just as in thinking of the time to come we picture to ourselves the
future acts of immortal souls as an endless series. Even if time had
no beginning, there would still have been a succession of varying
moments.

The present instant, which constitutes the reality of time, is an
instant fleeting between the past and the future ("nunc fluens, " says
St. Thomas) , an instant fleeting like the waters of a river, or like
the apparent movement of the sun by which we count the days and the
hours. What, then, is time? As Aristotle says, it is the measure of
motion, more especially of the sun's motion, or rather that of the
earth around the sun, the rotation of the earth on its axis
constituting one day as its revolution around the sun constitutes one
year. If the earth and the sun had been created by God from all
eternity and the regular motion of the earth around the sun had been
without beginning, there would not have been a first day or a first
year, but there would always have been a succession o f years and
centuries. Such a succession would then have been a duration without
either beginning or end, but a duration, nevertheless, infinitely
inferior to eternity; for there would always have been the distinction
between past, present, and future. In other words, multiply the
centuries by thousands and thousands, and it will always be time;
however long drawn out, it will never be eternity.

If, then, to define the divine eternity as a duration without either
beginning or end is inadequate, what is it? The answer of theology is
that it is a duration without either beginning or end, but with this
very distinctive characteristic, that in it there is no succession
either past or future, but an everlasting present. It is not a
fleeting instant, like the passing of time, but an immobile instant
which never passes, an unchanging instant. It is the now that stands,
not that flows away,  says St. Thomas (Ia, q. 10, a. 2, obj. Ia) ,
like a perpetual morning that had no dawn and will know no evening.

How are we to conceive this unique instant of an unchanging eternity?
Whereas time, this succession of days and years, is the measure of the
apparent motion of the sun or the real motion of the earth, eternity
is the measure or duration of the being, thought, and love of God. Now
these are absolutely immutable, without either change or variation or
vicissitude. Since God is of necessity the infinite fulness of being,
there is nothing for Him to gain or to lose. God can never increase or
diminish in perfection; He is perfection itself unchangeable.

This absolute fixity of the divine being necessarily extends to His
wisdom and His will; any change or progress in the divine knowledge
and love would argue imperfection.

The unchangeableness, however, is not the unchangeableness of inertia
or death; it is that of supreme life, possessing once and for all
everything it is possible and right that it should possess, neither
having to acquire it nor being able to lose it.

Thus we come to the true definition of eternity: an exceedingly
profound and beautiful definition, one full of spiritual instruction
for us.

Boethius, in his Consolations of Philosophy, formulated what has
continued to be the classical definition: Aeternitas est
interminabilis vitae tota simul et perfecta possessio (eternity is the
simultaneous possession in all its perfection of endless life") . It
is the uniformity of changeless life, without either beginning or end,
and possessed wholly at once. The principal phrase in the definition
is tota simul (wholly at once") . The unique distinction of the divine
eternity is not that it is without beginning or end, but that it is
without change, so that God possesses His infinite life wholly at
once.

Plato says that time is the mobile image of an immobile eternity, so
far, at any rate, as it is possible for a passing instant to be the
image of an instant that does not pass.

Time, too, with its succession of moments has often been compared to
the foot of a lofty mountain the summit of which represents the unique
instant of eternity. From the summit of this eternity of His, God sees
in a single glance the whole series of generations succeeding one
another in time, as a man from the top of a mountain can see in one
glance all who pass on their way in the valley below. Thus the unique,
unvarying instant of eternity corresponds to each successive moment of
time, the moments of our birth and death included. Time is thus, as it
were, the small change in the currency of eternity.

What characterizes time is change or motion, which is measured by
time. The distinctive characteristic of eternity is that unchangeable
instant in which God possesses His infinite, endless life wholly at
once.

Here on earth we have not, when born, the fulness of life. In
childhood we have not yet the vigor of youth or the experience that
comes with age; and then, when we reach maturity, we no longer possess
the freshness of childhood or the readiness of youth. Not only is this
true of our life as a whole, but we do not possess one year of it all
at once. The year has its changing seasons, so that what summer
brings, winter denies. The same must be said of the weeks and the
days. Our life is distributed: hours of prayer are distinct from hours
of work, and these again from hours of rest and recreation. Just as we
do not hear the whole of a melody at once, so it is with our life: its
events happen in succession.

On the other hand, it is said of Mozart that he was eventually able to
hear a melody not as something continuous, in the way other listeners
do, but all at once, in the law that gave it birth. In composing the
opening bars of a melody, he foresaw and in some way heard its finale.
To hear a melody all at once is a faint image of that divine eternity
in which God possesses His infinite life of thought and love
simultaneously and without any succession. In the life and thought of
God it is impossible for Him to distinguish between a before and an
after, a past and a future, a childhood, youth, and maturer age.

We have another faint image of the divine eternity in a great scholar
who spends long years in studying successively all the branches of a
particular science, and eventually is able to view them all in the
general principles governing the science, in the master idea from
which the other ideas are successive developments. Thus Newton must
have seen the various laws of physics as consequences of one supreme
law; and at the end of his life St. Thomas saw somewhat at a glance
the whole of theology as contained in a few general principles.

Another and closer image of the divine eternity is to be found in the
soul of a saint who has reached a life of almost continuous union with
God; he has now risen beyond the vicissitudes and flight of time. The
saint, too, has his hours of work as well as of prayer, but even his
work is a prayer; and because in the summit of his soul he remains in
almost continuous union with God, he possesses his life in a manner
all at once; instead of dividing and dissipating his life, he unifies
it.

The eternity of God, then, is the duration of a life that not only had
no beginning and will have no end, but that is absolutely unchangeable
and consequently wholly present to itself in an instant that never
passes. In one absolute unfleeting now it condenses in a transcendent
manner all the varying moments that succeed one another in time.

With men, captivated as they are by sense, an unchangeable eternity
has the appearance of death; for their idea of immobility is that of
inertia and nothing more; it does not extend to that immobility which
comes from a fulness of life so perfect that any progress in it is
unthinkable.

It follows that the divine thought, since its measure is eternity,
embraces in a single glance all time, every succeeding generation,
every age. In a single glance it sees the centuries preparing for the
coming of Christ and thereafter reaping the benefits of that coming.
In that same unique glance, the divine thought sees where our souls
will be in a hundred, two hundred, a thousand years to come, and
forever. If only this truth were kept in mind, many objections against
providence would vanish. The true notion of providence is, as it were,
the resultant of the contemplation of those divine perfections which
it presupposes.

As the thought of God is unchangeable, so also is His love. With no
shadow of change in itself, it summons souls into existence at the
moment it has fixed from all eternity. From all eternity love
pronounces a free fiat to be freely realized in time. At the appointed
time the soul is created, justified in baptism or by conversion,
receives a multitude of graces and in the end, if no resistance is
offered, that grace of a happy death by which it is saved. The created
effect is new, not so the divine act producing it: Est novitas
effectus absque novitate actionis, says St. Thomas. The divine action
is eternal, but produces its effect in time and when it wills.

On the heights of eternity God remains unchanging; but beneath Him all
is change, save only those souls who cleave unalterably to Him and so
share in His eternity.

Eternity and the value of time

What is the spiritual lesson for us in this divine perfection of
eternity? The great lesson to be learnt is that union with God on
earth brings us near to eternity. It also makes clearer to us the full
value of the time allotted us for our journey: a bare sixty or eighty
years, an exceedingly short span on which depends an eternity, the
briefest of prefaces to an endless volume.

The thought of eternity brings home to us especially the high value we
should place on the grace of the present moment. For the proper
performance of our duty at any given instant we require a particular
grace, the grace we ask for in the Hail Mary: Holy Mary, Mother of
God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.  Pray
for us sinners now. Here we beg for those special graces, varying with
each moment, which enable us to cope with our duties in the course of
the day and reveal to us the importance of all those trivial things
that bear some relation to eternity. Although, as we utter the word
now,  we are often full of distractions, Mary as she listens is all
attention. She receives our prayer gladly, and forthwith the grace we
need at the moment to persevere in our prayer, in suffering, in
whatever we are doing, comes down to us, even as the air we breathe
enters our breast. As the present minute is passing, let us remember
that the body and its sensibilities, alternating between joy and
sadness, are not the only realities; there is also our spiritual soul,
with the influence Christ has upon it, and the indwelling of the three
Persons of the Blessed Trinity. Whereas the superficial and
lightminded have a horizontal view of things, seeing material things
and the life of the soul from the same plane of every fleeting time,
the saints have unceasingly a perpendicular view of things; they see
them from above and penetrate their depths, contemplating God at the
summit of them all. The thought of eternity is the standard by which
they estimate the value of time, past, present, and to come, and thus
their judgments are gradually brought to the true focus.

Following their example, let us abandon to infinite mercy the whole of
our life, both past and future. In a very practical way, inspired by
faith, let us live the life of the present moment. In this fleeting
now, be it dull or joyful or fraught with pain, let us see a faint
image of the unique instant of changeless eternity; and because of the
actual grace it brings us, let us see in it also a living proof of the
fatherly kindness of God.

In this spirit let us go forward in the power of our Lord who in the
sacrifice of the mass never ceases to offer Himself for us by an
ever-living interior oblation in His heart, an oblation that
transcends time as does the vision that hallows His holy soul.

Walking thus, we draw close to that eternity which we are some day to
enter. In what will this entry into glory consist? We shall receive
eternal life, which will consist in seeing God as He sees Himself. It
will be an intuitive vision, never interrupted by either slumber or
distraction, an unchanging vision of the self-same infinite object,
which will be of inexhaustible profundity for us. This vision will be
succeeded by a love for God equally changeless, which nothing can ever
destroy or diminish. This vision and love will no longer be measured
by time, but by a participated eternity. Although they are to have a
beginning, they will henceforth be without end, without change of any
kind, without before or after; the instant which is to be the measure
of our beatific vision will be the unique instant of changeless
eternity.

We are given an inkling of what this means, when, in the contemplation
of some lofty truth or at prayer, we are so absorbed at times that we
no longer take account of the passing hours. If such is our occasional
experience, what will it be in the future life, which is not only
future but is rightly called eternal, since it will no longer be
measured by time but by eternity, which is the measure of the
simultaneous being and life of God? Then we, too, shall possess all
our love at once instead of seeing it languish, wavering between
lukewarmness and a passing fervor, all our knowledge at once and no
longer piecemeal.

Let us end with this thought from St. Augustine: Unite thy heart to
God's eternity and thou, too, shalt be eternal; be thou united to
God's eternity and there await with Him the things that pass beneath
thee (Comm. in Psalm. 91) .

It is only to us that eternity is obscure; in itself it is far more
luminous than fleeting time, for it is the unchangeableness of the
supremely luminous knowledge and love of God.

11. THE DIVINE INCOMPREHENSIBILITY

The light and shade in the mysteries of God's life

As we have seen, the attributes of God relative to His being are
simplicity, infinity, immensity, and eternity. Before passing on to
treat of those which, like wisdom and providence, relate to His
operations, it will be well to say something of the divine
incomprehensibility, which is so marked a feature of the divine
governance in certain of its ways.

Therein will be found an important lesson for our own spiritual life.
The point we shall particularly stress is that, although from certain
angles God is presented to us in the clearest light, in other respects
He remains in the deepest shadow. As in paintings we have light and
shade, so also in the teachings of revelation we find lights and
shadows, which are incomparably more beautiful than those we admire in
the great masters. And the same lights and shadows in which God is
represented to us will be found reproduced to some extent in our own
spiritual life; for grace is a participation in the divine nature, or
in the intimate life of God.

The highlights in the Divinity

Let us speak first of God's features that are quite clear to us. By
the natural exercise of our reason, apart even from faith, we are able
here on earth to demonstrate the existence of God, the first mover of
spiritual and corporeal beings, the first cause of everything that
exists, the necessary being, the sovereign good, and the sourc e of
order in the world.

In the mirror of created things we discover a reflection of God's
absolute perfections and thus acquire a positive knowledge of whatever
is similar or analogically common in God and His works: His reality,
His actuality, His goodness, wisdom, and power.

When we wish to point out His distinctive characteristics, we do so by
way of negation or by relating Him to the object of our experience.
Thus we speak of God as the infinite or non-finite Being, as
unchangeable, or again as the supreme good.

These rational convictions, already of themselves firmly established,
receive further confirmation from divine revelation accepted through
faith. These convictions are adamantine and unassailable. To us it is
quite clear that God cannot exist without being infinitely perfect,
that He can neither be deceived Himself nor deceive us, that He cannot
will what is evil or be in any way the cause of sin. Indeed we are
incomparably more certain of the rectitude of God's intentions than we
are of even the best of our own. From this angle God stands out before
our minds in a light almost dazzlingly clear. Again, it is quite
evident to us that on the one hand God is the author of all good,
including also the good contained in our meritorious consent, and that
on the other hand He never demands the impossible. Nothing can prevail
against these supremely evident truths, which have the force of
conviction for every right mind that is open to truth. Obviously God
cannot exist without being at once supremely just and supremely
merciful, supremely wise and at the same time supremely free.

And yet, with all this dazzling clarity, there is in God that which
for us is very obscure. What is the cause of this?

The light-transcending darkness in God

The obscurity confronting us in God is owing to the fact that He is
far too luminous for the feeble sight of our intellect, which is
unable to endure His infinite splendor.

To us God is invisible and incomprehensible for the reason that, as
Scripture says, He inhabiteth light inaccessible (I Tim. 6:16) , which
has for us the same effect as darkness. To the owl, in the order of
sense perception, darkness appears to begin at sunrise, because its
feeble sight can perceive only the faint glimmer that comes with the
twilight or just before the dawn, and is dazzled by the excessive
brilliance of the sun. Where God, the Sun of the spirit world, is
concerned, our intellect is in much the same condition. Its
intellectuality is of the lowest degree, being inferior to that of the
angel; it sees intelligible truths only dimly and in a half-light, as
it were, as reflected in a mirror of a lower order, the things of
sense.

As St. Thomas notes (Ia, q. 76, a. 5) , our intellect requires to be
united with the senses so as to be presented with its proper object.
This lowest degree of intellectuality attains first of all in
cognition its proper object, the being of sensible things, which is
the lowest degree of the intelligible; and in that object it acquires
a very imperfect knowledge of God's existence, and sees the reflection
of His divine perfections.

Whereas, then, many things are invisible through not being
sufficiently luminous or not sufficiently illuminating, God is
invisible because for us He is far too luminous.

That God, who is pure spirit, cannot be seen by bodily eyes, is quite
evident, since these perceive only what is sensible. But neither can
He be seen by a created intellect when this is left to its purely
natural resources. Not even the highest among the angels can directly
see God through the purely natural power of their intellect; for them,
too, God is a light overpowering in its intensity, a naturally
inaccessible light. For the angels, the sole natural means of knowing
God is in the mirror of spiritual creatures which are their proper
object, this mirror being their own essence or that of other angels.
They have a natural knowledge of God as the author of their nature,
but they cannot have a natural knowledge of Him in His intimate life
or see Him face to face.

To see God, the angels, like human souls, must have received the light
of glory, that supernatural light to which their nature has no claim
whatever, but which is infused in order to fortify their intellects
and enable them to endure the brightness of Him who is light itself. 
God Himself cannot give us a created idea capable of representing His
divine essence as it is in itself. Such an idea must always be
imperfect, intelligible only by participation, and hence wholly
inadequate to represent, as it really is, that eternally subsistent,
purely intellectual flash, the essence of God with its infinite truth.

If God wishes to reveal Himself as He really is, this can be only by
direct vision with no created idea intervening, unfolding to our gaze
the divine essence in all its splendor, and at the same time
sustaining and fortifying our intellect, which when left to itself is
too feeble to behold it.

It is in this way the blessed in heaven see God. We, too, desire to
attain to this same vision, in which our everlasting happiness will
consist.

God is therefore invisible to our mental as well as to our bodily
sight because of the exceeding intensity of His radiance.

But how is it that in this invisible God there is so much that is
transparently clear to us and at the same time so much that is
profoundly obscure? What is the source of this fascinating, mysterious
light and shade?

Evidently God cannot exist without being supremely wise, supremely
good, and supremely just; He is the author of all good and never
commands what is impossible. Then how is it that side by side with
this dazzling radiance there is so much obscurity?

It is due to the fact that our knowledge of the divine perfections is
obtained solely from their reflection in creatures. Although we can
enumerate them one after another, we are unable naturally to perceive
how they are united in the intimate life of God, in the eminence of
the Deity. This intimate mode of their union is entirely hidden from
us; its radiance is too overpowering, it is too exalted to be
reflected in any created mirror. As we said above, where the Deity is
concerned, we are like men who have never seen white light but only
the seven colors of the rainbow in the clear waters of a lake.

Doubtless in the divine rainbow we see its various colors: that God,
for example, is infinitely wise and supremely free. But we cannot see
how infinite wisdom is intimately reconciled with a good pleasure so
free as to appear to us at certain times sheer caprice. And yet,
however surprising it may seem, this good pleasure is still supremely
wise. We accept it in the obscurity of faith, but only in heaven will
it be clearly seen.

Again, we are certain that God is infinitely merciful, that He is also
infinitely just, and that He exercises both His mercy and His justice
with a sovereign freedom in which wisdom is never wanting. If, says
St. Augustine, to the good thief was granted the grace of a happy
death, it was through mercy; if it was denied to the other, it was
through justice. Here we have a mystery: we cannot see how infinite
mercy, infinite justice, and a sovereign liberty are intimately
reconciled. For this we must have a direct intuition of the divine
essence, of the Deity, in the eminence of which these perfections are
reconciled, and that far more profoundly, more perfectly, than the
seven colors are contained in white light.

In God truths that relate to each attribute considered apart are quite
clear. But so soon as we consider their intimate reconciliation, there
descends a darkness that transcends the light.

Once again, we see quite distinctly that in His exceeding goodness and
power God cannot permit evil unless for some greater good, as He
permits persecution for the glory of the martyrs. But for us this
greater good is often very obscure, to be seen clearly only in heaven.
This truth is eloquently brought out in the Book of Job.  There is
enough light for our Lord to have said: He that followeth me walketh
not in darkness.   Thus, however obscure in itself our cross may be,
we are able to bear it, all being made clear to us when we reflect
that it is ordained for the good of our souls and the glory of God.

Our life is frequently cast in this mysterious light and shade, which
appears in our very existence when this is viewed in its relations
with Him who, without fully revealing Himself as yet, is ever drawing
us to Him.

Hence arises that ardent desire to see God, that supernatural,
efficacious desire proceeding from infused hope and charity. Hence,
too, in every man arises a natural and inefficacious desire, a natural
velleity, to behold God face to face, if only to solve the enigma how
attributes so apparently opposed as infinite justice and infinite
mercy are reconciled in Him.

From this it follows that what is obscure and incomprehensible for us
in God transcends what is clearly seen. Here, in fact, the darkness is
light-transcending. What the mystics call the great darkness is the
Deity, the intimate life of God, the light inaccessible mentioned by
St. Paul (I Tim. 6: 6) .

We now understand what St. Teresa means when she says: The more
obscure the mysteries of God, the greater is my devotion to them. "
She indeed realized that this obscurity is not that of absurdity or
incoherence, but the obscurity of a light that is too intense for our
feeble vision.

In this divine light and shade, then, the shadows transcend the light.
Faith tells us that this impenetrable obscurity is the sovereign good
in its more intimate characteristics, so that it is to this absolutely
eminent Goodness, though still a mystery incomprehensible to the
intellect, that our charity cleaves; the food of love in this life is
mystery, which it adores. Here on earth love is superior to the
intellect. As St. Thomas says, so long as we have not attained to the
beatific vision of the divine essence, our intellect, with its very
imperfect conception of God, brings Him down in some sort to our
level, imposing upon Him as it were the limitations of our own
restricted ideas; whereas love does not bring God down to our level,
but uplifts us and unites us to Him (Ia, q. 82, a. 3; IIa IIae, q. 23,
a. 5; q. 27, a. 4) .

Therefore in this divine light and shade the shadows transcend the
light and, for the saints here on earth, this light-transcending
darkness exerts such an attraction on the love uniting them to God.
The just man lives by faith (Rom. 1:17) and finds his support not only
in its light but also in the divine darkness which corresponds to all
that is most intimate in God. It is upon the incomprehensibility of
the divine life that the contemplative is reared; he grasps the full
meaning of that phrase of St. Thomas: Faith is of things unseen (IIa
IIae, q. 1, a. 4, 5) .

Finally, even for the blessed in heaven God remains in a certain sense
incomprehensible, although they see Him face to face. No creature, no
idea intervenes between Him and them in their vision of Him, and yet
that vision can never be comprehensive like the vision God alone
naturally has of Himself. Why is this?

St. Thomas provides a simple explanation: To comprehend a thing in the
true sense of the word, is to know it as far as it can be known. A
person can know a proposition of geometry without comprehending it, as
is the case with anyone who accepts it on the word of the learned; he
knows all the elements in the proposition (subject, verb, predicate)
but he does not grasp the proof, and hence does not know it as far as
it can be known (cf. Ia, q. 12, a. 7) . Thus the pupil who knows his
master's teaching in all its parts does not penetrate so deeply as his
master, for he has only a confused grasp of the radical connection of
each part with the fundamental principles. Or again, a shortsighted
person will see the whole of a landscape, but not so distinctly as one
whose eyesight is good.

So also in heaven each one of the blessed sees the whole of the divine
essence, for it is indivisible. But, since it is the infinite truth,
infinitely knowable, they cannot penetrate it so deeply as God. The
degree of penetration is according to the intensity of the light of
glory they have received, and this again is in proportion to their
merits and their love for God acquired here on earth. Consequently
they cannot take in at a glance, as God does, the countless possible
beings His divine essence virtually contains, and which He could
create if He chose.

The divine light and shade of which we have just been speaking contain
much that will enlighten our own spiritual life. Our Lord thus
expresses it: He that followeth me walketh not in darkness, but shall
have the light of life (John 8: 12) .

Since the life of grace within us is a participation in the intimate
life of God, it, too, will be for us a mysterious light and shade,
which we must be careful not to distort or confuse. Grace brings us
enlightenment, consolation, and peace, that tranquillity which comes
from order. These are the high lights; we are no longer in the shadow
of death.  On the other hand, it is on a plane so exalted that it is
beyond the reach of reason; we can never have absolute certitude that
we are in the state of grace, though we may have sufficient
indications of its presence to permit our approaching the holy table.

Moreover, along the path we have to pursue through life are lights and
shadows of another sort. The precepts of God and His Church, the
orders of superiors, the advice of spiritual directors -- these are
rays of light. But we find shadows, too, lurking in the depths of
conscience. Not always can we easily distinguish true humility from
false, dignity from pride, confidence from presumption, fortitude from
temerity. Lastly-and it is here especially that the interior drama
lies -- in this obscurity characteristic of our life there is the
darkness descending from above, the obscurity of grace with its
overpowering radiance, and that other darkness from below, arising
from the lower elements in our disordered nature.

Let us often ask the good God to enlighten us through the gifts of the
Holy Spirit, that we may walk aright amid this interior light and
shadow. To deny the light because of the shadows and thus substitute
the absurd for the mystery, would result in error and discouragement.
Let us leave the mystery its rightful place. Let us ask of God the
grace to distinguish between the light-transcending darkness from
above and that lower darkness which is the darkness of death. And,
that we may the more surely obtain this grace, let us often repeat
this prayer: Grant me, O Lord, to know the obstacles that I am more or
less conscious of placing in the way of grace and its working in me,
and give me the strength to remove them, no matter what it may cost
me.  In this way we shall discover the true light, and if darkness
persists it will be the darkness from on high, that which enables the
just man to live; for to our poor intellect it is but an aspect of the
light of life and of the sovereign good. This is what is meant by
these words: He that followeth me walketh not in darkness, but shall
have the light of life.   He who follows me walks neither in the
darkness of religious ignorance nor in the darkness of sin and
condemnation, but in the light, for I am the way, the truth, and the
life; therefore he shall have the light of life,  which shall never be
extinguished.

12. THE WISDOM OF GOD

Hitherto we have been considering the attributes relative to God's
being itself: such as His simplicity, eternity, incomprehensibility.
We must now treat of those relating to the divine operations.

God, the self-subsisting Being, is by definition immaterial and
therefore intelligent. The two great attributes of His intellect are
wisdom and providence.

On the other hand, free will is an absolute perfection resulting from
intellect. The act of the divine will is love, and its two great
virtues are justice and mercy. As for the external works of God, they
have their source in omnipotence.

And so by degrees what may be called the spiritual features of God
stand out more clearly. Just as with us, wisdom and prudence are found
in the intellect, and in the will are found justice and the other
virtues regarding our neighbor, so also in God's intellect are wisdom
and providence, and in His will are justice and mercy. These are the
divine virtues, as it were, but with this difference, that obviously
in God there can be no virtue regarding one who is superior to Him.

First of all we shall speak of the divine wisdom. All that revelation
and theology tell us about it, illumines their teaching on providence.

What are we to understand by wisdom?

Before we can attribute wisdom to God, we must know the meaning of the
word, or what people usually understand by it. This will help us
further to distinguish between two very different kinds of wisdom: the
wisdom of the world and the wisdom of God. That they know what wisdom
is, is the boastful claim of all, even the skeptic, who would have it
consist in universal doubt.

That wisdom is a comprehensive view embracing all things, everyone is
agreed. But after that, what divergences there are! We may view things
from above, believing that they all proceed from a holy love, or at
least are permitted by it, and that all things converge upon one
supreme good. Or we may view things from below, considering them the
result of a material, blind fatality without any ultimate purpose.
Another divergence is that there is a wisdom characterized by a false
optimism, shutting its eyes to the existence of evil, and there is a
pessimistic, depressing wisdom that sees no good in anything.

St. Paul often speaks of the wisdom of this world, which, he says, is
stupidity or foolishness in the eyes of God (I Cor. 3:19) . Its
peculiarity is that it views all things from below, estimating the
whole of human life by the earthly pleasures it brings, or by the
material interests to be safeguarded, or again by the satisfaction our
ambition and pride may derive from it.

To adopt this attitude in our estimation of things, is to make of self
the center of all things, unwittingly to adore self. Practically it
amounts to a denial of God and a looking upon others as, so to speak,
non-existent.

If the worldling feels himself incapable of playing such a part, he
takes as his standard of judgment the opinion of the world, and
sometimes becomes its very slave that he may obtain its favors. In the
opinion of the world wisdom in the conduct of life usually consists
not in the golden mean between two extreme vices, but in an easy-
going mediocrity lying midway between the true good and an excessive
crudeness or perversity in evildoing. In the eyes of the world
Christian perfection is as much an excess in one direction as
downright wickedness is in the other. We must avoid extremes in
everything, we are told. And so the mediocre comes to be called good,
whereas it is nothing but an unstable, confused state lying between
the good and the bad. People forget the meaning of the school marks
given to children on their reports: very good, good, fair, mediocre,
bad, very bad. The difference between the mediocre and the good is
lost sight of, the one is confused with the other; instead of rising
higher, a man will remain permanently halfway. Hence the word charity
is sometimes applied to a repre hensible toleration of the worst
evils. Calling itself tolerance and prudent moderation, this wisdom of
the flesh is equally indulgent to vice and indifferent to virtue.

It is particularly severe toward anything of a higher standard and
thus seems to rebuke it. Sometimes it even hates heroic virtue, which
is holiness. We have an instance of this in the age of persecutions,
which continued even under Marcus Aurelius. This emperor, though wise
according to this world's standards, was never able to perceive the
sublimity of Christianity, in spite of the blood of so many martyrs.

As St. Paul says, this self-complacent wisdom is simply foolishness
with God (I Cor. 3:19) . Because of its self- complacency it goes so
far as to base all its estimations concerning even the most sublime
things, even salvation, upon what is sheer mediocrity and emptiness.
It completely overturns the scales of values and well deserves to be
called stupidity.

It is clear, therefore, that true wisdom views things from a higher
standpoint, considering them as dependent on God their supreme cause
and directed to God their last end; whereas stupidity, the opposite of
wisdom, is the outlook of the fool, who considers all things from the
lowest standpoint, reducing them to the basest possible level, a
material, blind fatality or the transitory pleasures of this present
life. It was this that made our Lord say: What doth it profit a man,
if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul? And
St. Paul says: If any man among you seem to be wise in this world, let
him become a fool, that he may be wise. For the wisdom of this world
is foolishness with God. For it is written: I will catch the wise in
their own craftiness. And again: The Lord knoweth the thoughts of the
wise, that they are vain. Let no man therefore glory in men (I Cor.
3:18- 21) .

In contrast to this let us see what the wisdom of God is, considering
it first in itself and then in relation to ourselves.

The divine wisdom in itself

In itself the divine wisdom is the knowledge God has of Himself and of
all things, in so far as He is their supreme cause and last end: the
divine knowledge of all things through their highest causes.

In other words, it is an uncreated luminous knowledge, penetrating
God's entire being and from these heights extending eternally in all
its purity and without contamination of any kind to everything
possible as well as to everything that is or has been or will be,
however lowly, however evil, and all this in a single glance and from
the loftiest standpoint conceivable.

Let us pause to consider each of these terms and so obtain a glimpse
of the wonders they seek to express.

a) Divine wisdom is an uncreated luminous knowledge. The Book of
Wisdom tells us: She is more beautiful than the sun... being compared
with the light, she is found before it. For after this cometh night,
but no evil can overcome wisdom.... She is a certain pure emanation of
the glory of the almighty God: and therefore no defiled thing cometh
into her. For she is the brightness of eternal light (Wis. 7: 25, 26,
29) .

b) This uncreated luminous knowledge penetrates God's entire being. To
His intelligence there is nothing in Him that is hidden, obscure,
mysterious. We, on the other hand, are a mystery to ourselves, by
reason of the thousand and one more or less unconscious movements of
our sensibility influencing our judgments and our will; by reason,
too, of the mysterious graces offered us and often perhaps indirectly
rejected. Not even the most introverted souls can boast of a complete
knowledge of self. Neither do I judge my own self,  says St. Paul. For
I am not conscious to myself of anything. Yet am I not hereby
justified: but He that judgeth me, is the Lord (I Cor. 4: 3, 4) .

God's self-knowledge is absolutely complete, extending to all that is
knowable in Him. Our knowledge of God is through creatures, as He is
reflected in them; the knowledge God has of Himself is immediate.

The blessed in heaven see Him face to face, but this does not thereby
exhaust the infinite fulness of His being and truth. God's vision of
Himself is both immediate and comprehensive. His infinite knowledge
exhausts the infinite depths of truth in Him.

What is more, so completely does this luminous thought of His
penetrate His wholly immaterial being, that it is absolutely
identified with it. There is no slumber here to interrupt the
spiritual life, no progress from an imperfect to a more perfect
knowledge. He is essentially and from all eternity perfection itself,
a pure intellectual flash subsisting eternally, the uncreated
spiritual light transcending all things. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia, q. 14,
a. 1-4.)

c) From these heights God's knowledge extends instantaneously, in the
unique instant of eternity, to every possible mode of existence, as
well as to everything that exists now or has existed or will exist,
however lowly, however evil.

In what way does God know every possible mode of existence, the
innumerable, infinite multitude of beings that might exist? Through
the exhaustive knowledge He has of His own omnipotence, which is able
to produce them. He is like the artist who delights in contemplating
the exquisite works of art he has conceived and might execute, though
they will never see the light of day.

And how does God know from His high abode the things that exist now,
and all that has been or will be? Whence does He get this knowledge?
Does He acquire it as we do from the things themselves as one after
another they come into existence? We ourselves thus learn from events
as they happen, and our knowledge, imperfect to begin with, becomes
more perfect. But can God have anything to learn from facts as they
occur? Obviously not; for His knowledge cannot pass from a less to a
more perfect state: He is perfection itself. What then, must our
answer be?

We must say, St. Thomas remarks (Ia, q. 14, a. 8) , that whereas with
us knowledge is gauged by the objects on which it depends, the wisdom
of God is the cause of things; wisdom is their measure, they are not
the measure of wisdom. Divine wisdom is the cause of things as the art
of the sculptor is the cause of the statue, as Beethoven's art
produced his immortal symphonies, as Dante's art produced the Divine
Comedy.

But the sculptor's work is no more than a lifeless statue; the great
musician or the great poet can only weave a harmony of sounds or words
to express his thought. God, however, through His wisdom can create
beings that are living, conscious, intelligent: human souls and
myriads of angels. God's knowledge in conjunction with His will is the
cause of things as the artist's art is the cause of the work of art"
(Ia, q. 14, a. 8) .

God, in fact, can no more go a begging to created things for His
wisdom than Beethoven could learn anything new from his own score:
that is quite clear. God can have nothing to learn from events as they
occur; on the contrary, it is from the fecundity of His knowledge that
He confers existence upon them. The reason is that His knowledge
extends not only to all that He is Himself, but also to all that He
can do, to all that He actually realizes, whether by His own power
exclusively as when He created in the beginning, or with and through
our co-operation as when He directs us to the free performance of our
everyday actions. In the unique instant of eternity, God already knows
all that will come to pass -- all the prayers, for instance, that
under His direction we shall freely offer Him later on in order to
obtain the graces we need. We will return to this point when we come
to speak of providence.

Obviously, then, God's knowledge, far from being caused by things as
it is with us, is itself their cause; they are the works of the divine
art, of God's genius.

But are these created things known to God only in a general, vague
way, or distinctly and to the last detail? Revelation tells us that
all the ways of men are open to His eyes (Prov. 16: 2) , that the very
hairs of our head are all numbered, that even the least of our actions
are known to Him.

Why is this? Because in the production of every least thing God
concurs, as to whatever reality and goodness are in it. Only one thing
God cannot produce, and that is sin; for sin as such is a disorder,
and disorder has no being but is simply the absence of what ought to
be. Since, then, the divine causality embraces all things, down to the
least detail, so also must the divine knowledge; for obviously God
knows all that He does Himself and all that He concurs in producing.
As for sin, He merely permits it, tolerates it in view of some greater
good. It is through this permission that He has knowledge of it; and
He sees it in its final overthrow, which in its own way will once more
contribute to the manifestation of the good. We shall see this truth
more clearly when we come to speak of God's providence.

Therefore, God's knowledge of whatever reality and goodness there is
in the universe is from Himself; the source upon which He draws for
that knowledge is Himself.

The divine wisdom compared with the highest human wisdom

With us, the knowledge of spiritual and divine things is obtained from
below, in the mirror of sensible things. God, on the other hand, views
all things from on high, in Himself and His own eminent causality.

Do what we may, we here on earth see the spiritual and the divine only
through their reflection in material things. It is owing to this that
we attach immense importance to material happenings, such as the loss
of an eye, whereas events of the spiritual world, with consequences
that are incalculable, are allowed to pass almost unnoticed, such as
an act of charity in the order of goodness, or in the sphere of evil a
mortal sin. In other words, we see the spiritual and the divine as in
the twilight, in the shadow of the sensible; to use the expression of
St. Augustine, ours is an evening vision.

With God it is quite the contrary. In the light of an eternal morning
His knowledge is first of all directed to Himself, and in His own very
pure essence He sees from above all possible creatures, and those that
now exist or have existed or will exist. It is from on high and in
spiritual things that He sees the material. To hear a symphony, He has
no need of senses as we have; His knowledge of it is from a higher
source, in the musical law that gave it birth, and thus it far
surpasses the knowledge of the genius who composed it.

It is not through the body that God views the soul of the just; it is
rather through the soul that He views the body as a sort of radiation
of the soul. Hence His sight is not dazzled by outward show, by wealth
and its trappings; what counts with God is charity. A beggar in rags
but with the heart of a saint, is of incomparably greater worth in the
sight of God than a Caesar in all the splendor of his human glory.
Again, to Him there is an immense difference between a little child
before it is baptized and the same child after baptism.

Looked at in the light of this world our Savior's passion appears to
us enshrouded in gloom, but how radiant it must be when seen from on
high, as the culminating point of history, that point to which
everything in the Old Testament led up and from which everything in
the New descends!

God does not see created things immediately in themselves, in the dim
glimmer of their created illumination, as though descending to their
level and made dependent on them; He sees them in Himself and His own
radiant light. God cannot see created things except from above: any
other mode of knowledge would argue imperfection and would cease to be
divine contemplation. Whatever reality and goodness there is in
creatures is seen by the divine wisdom as a radiation of the glory of
Him who is. "

Whereas we can hardly conceive of eternity except by relating it to
the particular time period in which we live, God sees the whole
succession of time periods in the light of an unchanging eternity. As
a man standing on the summit of a mountain takes in at a single glance
all who follow one another in the plain below, so also in one eternal
instant God sees the entire succession of time periods; our birth
simultaneously with our death, our trials with the glory they merit,
the sufferings of the just with the endless spiritual profit resulting
from them. He sees the effects in their causes, and the means in the
ends they subserve.

The lives of the saints are very beautiful even in their external
aspect as history records them; but they are incomparably more
beautiful in the mind of God, who sees everything in its true
inwardness and from above, who sees directly the grace in the souls of
the just with their actual degree of charity and the degree they will
have reached at the end of their journey. He sees our lives in the
light of the divine idea directing them, an idea that will be fully
realized only in heaven. Between God's wisdom and ours there is all
the difference we observe between a stained-glass window as seen from
within the church and as seen from without.

This infinite wisdom of God has been revealed to us in the person of
our Lord the incarnate Word, in His life and preaching, His death,
resurrection, and ascension. Our Lord has bestowed upon us a
participation in this selfsame divine wisdom through living faith
illumined by the gifts of the Holy Ghost, the gifts of wisdom and
understanding, enabling us to penetrate and experience the sweetness
of the mysteries of salvation. Let our pr actical conclusion be to
accustom ourselves by degrees to see all things from God's higher
point of view, considering them not as something that may give us
pleasure or satisfy our self-love and pride, but in their relation to
God the first cause and last end. In the spirit of faith and by the
dim light it sheds let us accustom ourselves gradually to see all
things in God. Let us see in the pleasant events of our life the
tokens of God's goodness, and also in the painful and unexpected
afflictions a call to a higher life, as being so many graces sent for
our purification, and therefore often more to be prized than
consolations. St. Peter crucified was nearer to God than on Thabor.

By thus accustoming ourselves to live by faith and the gift of wisdom
we shall become every day better fitted to enter into that knowledge
which is to be ours at the end of our journey through life. We shall
then see God face to face, and in Him all that emanates from Him,
especially those things we have loved on earth with a super natural
love. St. Francis and St. Dominic thus behold in God the destinies of
their orders, and a Christian mother on entering heaven sees in Him
the spiritual needs of the son she has left on earth and the prayers
she must offer for him.

This wisdom corresponds to the beatitude promised to peacemakers. In
heaven, of course, it will be the source of unchanging peace as well
as perfect joy; here on earth, even when the joy is absent, it brings
us peace, that tranquillity which comes from order through union with
God.

13. THE WILL AND HOLY LOVE OF GOD

Now that we have spoken of God's intellect and wisdom, a right
conception of providence requires further that we consider the nature
of His holy will and the love He has both for Himself and for us.
Providence in God, like prudence in us, presupposes the love of the
supreme good, to which it directs all things.

No word is so much profaned as love. There is a carnal wisdom which
St. Paul calls stupidity and foolishness, and there is also a baser
sort of love which is simply the grossest egoism and which often
through jealousy is instantly transformed into a raging hatred. But
however low a soul may sink, it can never quite forget that in true
love we have a perfection so exalted and so pure that we should look
in vain for any trace of imperfection in it.

If we were asked whether God can be sad, we at once see that this
cannot be. If we were asked whether He can be angry, we promptly
understand that the term can be attributed to Him only by way of
metaphor to express His justice. If we were asked whether love is to
be found formally in Him, without the least hesitation we say that He
loves us in the strict and fullest sense of the term.

Let us see, then, (1) in what way love is in God, in what way He loves
Himself, and (2) the nature of His love for us. We will follow St.
Thomas throughout (Ia, q. 19, 20) , and while we are speaking of God's
love for us we shall see with him what is meant by the will of
expression in God and the will of His good pleasure. This dis tinction
is of the first importance for a right understanding of what
self-abandonment to Providence must be.

The love of God for Himself

Love as it is in God cannot consist in a sensible passion or emotion,
however well regulated. There can be no sensibility in God, because He
is pure spirit.

But there can be no divine intellect, with its knowledge of the good,
unless there is a divine will to will that g ood. This will cannot be
a simple faculty of willing. It would be imperfect, were it not of
itself always in act. The first act of the will is love for the good,
a love entirely spiritual as is the intellect which directs it. The
other acts of the will (desiring, willing, consenting, choosing,
utilizing, and even hating) all proceed from love, that is the very
awakening of the will in its contact with the good which is its object
(Ia, q. 20, a. 1) .

In God, then, a wholly spiritual and eternal act of love for the good
necessarily exists, and this good loved from all eternity is God
Himself, His infinite perfection, which is the fulness of being. God
loves Himself as much as He is capable of being loved, that is,
infinitely. This necessary act is not inferior to liberty but
transcends it. Indeed this love is identified with the sovereign good,
the supreme object of love. From its ardor it is rightly termed a
zealous love; it is like an eternally subsisting burning flame, ignis
ardens. As the Scripture says, God is a consuming fire (Deut. 4: 24) .

We do well to contemplate this burning love for the good which exists
from all eternity in God, especially when we consider the amount of
injustice and jealousy that is in the world and feel in our hearts how
feeble at times is our own love for the good, how lacking in constancy
and perseverance.

We read in the Gospel: Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after
justice: for they shall have their fill (Matt. 5: 6) . This is that
burning love for the good which is mightier than all contradictions,
than all weariness and temptations to discouragement we may meet with,
a love mighty as death, even mightier than death, as seen in our Lord
and the martyrs. Yet this mighty, ardent love for the good, which must
eventually dominate everything in our hearts, is but a spark springing
from that spiritual furnace in God, the uncreated love for the
sovereign good.

The characteristics of this love

In the first place, it is supremely holy, or rather it is holiness
itself; that is to say, it is absolutely pure, and in its purity
unchangeable. Absolutely pure, for obviously it cannot in any way be
sullied or debased by sin or imperfection, since sin consists in
turning one's back on God and His commands, and imperfection is a
refusal to follow His counsels.

And in its purity it is unchangeable. God can never cease to be the
sovereign good. He can never cease to know and hence to love Himself.
He necessarily loves Himself, and His love not only cleaves
unalterably to the sovereign good, but is identified with it, loving
it above all things. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia, q. 19, a. 3, 7.)

Certain philosophers, such as Kant, have gone so far astray as to see
in this love of God preferring Himself to all else, not the absolute
holiness it is, but the very height of egoism. They have also
maintained that God cannot love Himself above all things, that He
could not have created us for His own glory, but for ourselves alone,
and that consequently it is not He but our own personal dignity that
should hold the supreme place in our love.

On the plea of absolving God of egoism, this novel aberration places
egoism before us as the ideal we should aim at. It confounds the two
extremes, holiness and egoism, because it neglects to define what
egoism is.

Egoism is an inordinate self-love in which self is preferred to God
the sovereign good, or to one's family or country. But how can God
prefer Himself to the sovereign good, since He is identified with it?

Hence God in preferring Himself to all things is preferring the
sovereign good. For Him to do otherwise would be an intolerable
disorder; He would be like the miser who prefers his gold to his own
personal dignity. For God to prefer any creature to Himself would
amount to a mortal sin in Him, and that is the final absurdity.

When God creates, therefore, it is not out of egoism at all; on the
contrary, it is to manifest His goodness externally. In subordinating
everything to Himself He is subordinating us to the sovereign good,
and this He does for our greater happiness. Our beatitude is
incomparably greater in the possession and love of God through praise
than if it were a mere complacency in our own personal dignity. The
more we give glory to God, the greater will be our own glory. Not to
us, O Lord, not to us: but to Thy name give glory (Ps. 113: 1) . Our
greatest glory, O Lord, is to give glory to Thee.

God's love for Himself has no taint of egoism; rather it is holiness
itself. And not only is it absolutely pure and incapable of sin, but
it has as its inevitable sequel a holy hatred of everything that is
evil. In fact, no true love of the good can exist without a
detestation of evil; we cannot love the sovereign good above all
things without a so vereign detestation of sin. God cannot have that
holy zeal for His own glory, which is the manifestation of His
goodness, without an equally ardent detestation of sin. This is quite
evident. With Him there can be no bargaining or compromising with
evil. This, in the divine light and shade, stands out in clear relief.
Nevertheless -- and here is the shadow -- sin does occur. Where sin is
wilfully persisted in, the love of God, which is gentleness itself,
becomes a thing of terror. Love is as strong as death, jealousy as
hard as hell (Cant. 8: 6) . God detests sin with a burning hatred,
which is simply the obverse of His ardent love for the good.

God's love for Himself is at once an alluring holiness and a thing of
dread, gentle yet terrible, like the house of God which Jacob speaks
of (Gen. 28: 17) .

This holiness implies all perfections, even those so apparently
opposed as infinite justice and infinite mercy, the two great virtues
of divine love.

In this holy love of God for Himself is contained a twofold lesson. In
the first place, since God is infinitely better than we are, we must
love Him more than ourselves, at least in preference to ourselves with
a love based on a right estimation of values, with a love, too, that
is efficacious and orients our whole life to Him. Secondly, as God
loves Himself with a holy love, so ought we to love with a holy love
our own soul and its destiny, for it has been created to give glory to
God eternally. Let us love ourselves with this holy love, in God and
for His sake; this is the way to overcome that inordinate love of self
in which egoism consists. With the egoist, self-love is in one sense
excessive, since he devotes too much love to the lower element in him;
but in another sense it falls short of what it should be: he does not
love sufficiently the spiritual element in his soul, that element
which was created to hymn the glories of God. (Cf. St. Thomas, Ia
IIae, q. 29, a. 4; IIa IIae, q. 25, a. 7.)

God's love for us

Such being the love God has for Himself, how can it be directed to
anything else besides? Some unbelievers, as also the deists, hold that
God cannot possibly love us in the true sense of the term: the use of
the word love in this connection is purely metaphorical. To love some
other being, they say, is to be attracted by it. But God, the
plenitude of all good, can find nothing in us to attract Him; He
cannot be passive to an attraction exerted by so paltry a good as we
are.

The answer to this deist objection is that in the love God has for us
there is no passivity whatever; it is essentially active, creative,
life-giving: it is sheer generosity and is supremely free. It is true
love in the strictest and highest sense of the word.

No passivity is possible in the love God has for us. Obviously He
cannot be attracted by a created good, or be passive under the
attraction of a good so paltry, or be captivated by it. He loves us,
not because He found us worthy of love; on the contrary, in His sight
we are made worthy of His love because He has first loved us. What
hast thou that thou hast not received? says St. Paul (I Cor. 4: 7) ;
and St. Thomas says: "The love of God is the cause infusing and
creating goodness in things (Ia, q. 20, a. 2) .

Any good in us, whether natural or supernatural, can come only from
God, the source of all good, can come only from His creative,
life-giving love. This love of His does not presuppose anything worthy
of love in us, but is the very source of that worthiness, creating,
conserving, increasing it in us, yet without violence to our liberty.

For what reason, then, has God loved us with this creative love? Why
has He given us existence, life, intellect, and will? Out of sheer
generosity. Is it not characteristic of goodness to be diffusive of
itself and to give itself in generous abundance? Since goodness tends
naturally to communicate itself, it is essentially diffusive of
itself. In the physical order the sun gives out light and genial heat;
plants and animals, upon reaching maturity, tend to reproduce
themselves. In the moral and spiritual order a person who, like the
saints, has a passion for goodness will know no rest until he has
aroused in others the same aspirations, the same love. Since God is
the sovereign good and the fulness of all being, the eternal love of
the good having all the zeal and ardor of love, it is most fit ting
that He should give of the riches that are in Him, even as a singer
delights in re-echoing abroad the rich melodies of his song. It is in
the highest degree fitting, therefore, that God should love us with
this creative love by giving us existence and life.

But does it follow that creation is not a free act; that, unless He
created, God would be neither good nor wise? By no means. Scripture
tells us that God worketh all things according to the counsel of His
will (Ephes. 1: 11) , and the Church proclaims the absolute liberty of
creative love. It is indeed highly appropriate that God should create,
but also that He should be altogether free in creating, so that there
would have been nothing derogatory to Him in not creating: in His own
intimate life God would have none the less been infinitely good and
infinitely wise. As Bossuet says, God is no greater for having created
the universe. The fact of His conferring existence on us cannot bring
the smallest increase to His infinite perfection. Creation is an
absolutely free act of love. In this sense even the natural gifts we
have received are gratuitous.

But in God there is a still greater and freer act of love, by which He
has bestowed on us the even more gratuitous gift of grace, that
participation in His intimate life, a gift to which our nature has no
claim whatever. By this life- saving love He has made us worthy to be
loved in His sight, and that not merely as creatures but as His
children, thus fitting us to behold Him and love Him for eternity.

We are loved by God far more than we think. To realize the extent of
His love for us, we should have to know fully the value of grace when
it has reached its final development in the glory of heaven; we would
have to see God, if only for an instant.

In the incarnation, the redemption, and the Eucharist, God's love for
us reaches its consummation. To realize how intense is this love, we
should have to appreciate to the full the infinite value of the
redemptive part of the incarnation and the merits our Lord gained for
us, and hence the value of all the spiritual graces that flow from
them. In giving birth to Mary, St. Anne was far more loved by God than
she knew, for she could not have foreseen that the child God had given
her would be the mother of the Savior and of all mankind. So, too, is
it with us, though with due reserves: God loves us far more than we
think, especially in times of trial when He appears to desert us; for
it is then He bestows upon us His most precious, most profound, most
life-giving grace s. At such times as these, let us say with St.
Teresa: Lord, Thou knowest all things, canst do all things, and Thou
dost love me.

Such in essence is the love God has for us, a creative and life-giving
love; supremely generous and supremely free.

The characteristics of this love

They are principally four: It is universal; yet it has its free
preferences; and these are wholly actuated by wisdom; and it is
invincible.

It is universal, extending to the very least of creatures. God loves
them as a farm owner loves his fields, his house, and the animals that
serve his needs. But first and foremost this love is directed to the
souls of human beings: to the soul of a sinner that it may be
converted, to the soul of a just man that it may persevere, to the
soul tried by temptation that it may not faint, and to the soul in its
last hour on earth before it comes before God's judgment seat (Ia, q.
20, a. 2, 3) .

Nevertheless, for all its universality, this love has its free
preferences. If to every soul it gives the graces sufficient and
necessary for salvation, upon some -- St. Joseph, for instance, St.
Peter, St. John, St. Paul, the founders of religious orders-it confers
graces of predilection. And every one of these saints will confess
with St. Paul (I Cor. 4:7) , What hast thou that thou hast not
received? and again, It is God who worketh in us both to will and to
accomplish, according to His good will" (Phil. 2: 13) . As the singer
imparts at will a greater resonance to certain notes, so also God in
the bestowal of His graces shows His predilection for some over
others. The divine seed that God casts into souls depends for its
degree of beauty entirely upon His good pleasure.

Yet this supreme liberty in His preferences preserves always that
admirable order which wisdom and charity demand. It is always the best
that God prefers,  says St. Thomas, for, since He is the source of all
goodness, one thing would not be better than another, did He not love
it with a greater love (Ia, q. 20, a. 3) .

God prefers spiritual to corporeal beings, the latter being created
for the former. The Mother of the incarnate Wo rd is preferred before
every other created being; and God's only Son is preferred before His
Virgin Mother. Christ was delivered up on our behalf, not because He
was loved less by God than we are, but that by saving us He might
emerge gloriously triumphant over the devil, sin, and death (Ia, q.
20, a. 4 ad Ium) .

In the love of God everything is subordinated to the manifestation of
His goodness. This is the constant refrain of the psalm: Praise the
Lord for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever (Ps. 135) .

One last perfection of divine love: in its strength it is invincible,
in the sense that without its divine permission nothing can resist it
and that by its power everything is made to conspire to the eventual
fulfilment of the good. In this sense the love of God is mightier than
death: mightier than physical death, since it raised up Christ Jesus
and will raise us up at the last day; mightier than spiritual death,
for it is able to convert the most hardened sinner, raising to life
again the soul that is dead, and that not once, but many times, in the
course of its earthly existence.

The will of expression and the will of good pleasure in God

That our will should be made to conform to the divine will and its
holy love is of course obvious; for, as St. Thomas says,  any goodness
in our voluntary acts and in the will itself depends on the end to
which they are directed. Now the ultimate end of the human will is the
sovereign good, which is also the primary object of the divine will,
that object in view of which all other things are willed by it.

Here, however, we must distinguish with the whole of tradition between
the divine will of good pleasure and the divine will of expression. 
By the divine will of expression we mean all those external signs that
reveal God's will-commands, prohibitions, the spirit underlying the
counsels, and everything that happens by His will or permission. The
divine will thus expressed, especially in commands, comes within the
domain of obedience, and, as St. Thomas remarks,  is what we refer to
when we say in the Our Father, Thy will be done.

The divine will of good pleasure is the interior act of God's will,
which often is not yet revealed or expressed externally. Upon it
depends our still uncertain future -- future events, future joys and
trials, whether of long or short duration, the hour and circumstances
of our death, and so on. As St. Francis of Sales remarks  and Bossuet
after him,  whereas the expressed will of God is the domain of
obedience, the will of His good pleasure is the domain of trusting
surrender. As we will explain at some length later on, in making our
will conform daily to the divine will as expressed, we must for the
rest abandon ourselves in all confidence to the divine will of good
pleasure, for we are certain beforehand that it wills nothing, permits
nothing, unless for the spiritual and eternal welfare of those who
love God and persevere in that love.

Such is God's holy will and His love for us. It is this love that has
been revealed to us in our Lord, whose heart is a glowing furnace of
charity.

Christ's love for us, like that of His heavenly Father, is absolutely
holy and inspired by sheer generosity: He has not been drawn to us,
but we to Him: You have not chosen me, " He says, but I have chosen
you (John 15: 16) . Again, the love of Jesus for His Father and for us
has ever been invincible: it constrained Him to submit to death, and
by His death he raises up souls to a new life, once again directing
upon them the stream of the divine mercies.

As a practical conclusion, we must allow ourselves to be loved by this
exceedingly holy, purifying, life-giving love, and submit to its
purifications, however painful they may be at times. And it should be
met with a generous response, according to these words of St. John:
Let us love God: because He hath first loved us (I John 4: 10) . We
must love the Lord for His own sake, with a purity of intention rising
above the promptings of vainglory and pride and that self-seeking
which is induced by jealousy and the desire for the esteem of men.

The beginning in us of a pure love for God will then be some
participation in that love which God has for Himself, a spark from
that divine furnace of His own self-love. And as our love grows purer
daily, it will increase in holiness, generosity, and strength. Indeed
it will make us invincible, according to the phrase of St. Paul (Rom.
8: 1) , If God be with us, who is against us? And finally, our love
thus gradually purified will enable us to triumph over death itself
and will open the gates of paradise to us. When we enter into glory,
we shall be established forever in a supernatural love for God that
can nevermore be lost or lessened.

PART III : PROVIDENCE ACCORDING TO REVELATION

14. THE NOTION OF PROVIDENCE

Having spoken of those divine perfections which the notion of
providence presupposes, we must go on to consider in what this
providence consists. What revelation has told us about God's wisdom
and His love will give us a clearer insight into its teaching
concerning the divine governance. This teaching far surpasses that of
the philosophers, many of whom maintain that providence does not
extend beyond the general laws governing the universe; that it does
not reach down to individuals and the details of their existence, to
future free actions and the secrets of the heart. On the other hand,
certain heretics have held that since providence extends infallibly to
the least of our actions, there can be no such thing as liberty. The
revealed teaching is the golden mean lying between these two extreme
positions and transcending them.

Providence, as we shall see, is a sort of extension of God's wisdom,
which reacheth from end to end mightily and ordereth all things
sweetly" (Wis. 8: I; 14: 3) . Since,  says St. Thomas, God is the
cause of all things by His intellect (in conjunction with His will) ,
it is necessary that the type of the order of things toward their end
should pre-exist in the divine mind; and the type of things ordered
toward an end is, properly speaking, providence (Ia, q. 22, a. 1) . 
As for the divine governance, though the expression is generally used
as synonymous with providence, it is, strictly speaking, the execution
of the providential plan (ibid., ad 2um) .

St. Thomas (ibid.) also points out that providence in God corresponds
to the virtue of prudence in us, which regulates the means with a view
to the attainment of some end, which exercises foresight in
anticipation of the future. We have, besides a purely personal
prudence, that higher prudence which a father must exercise to provide
for his family's needs, and higher still, the prudence demanded in the
head of the state that should be found in our law makers and other
government officials for the promotion of the common interests of the
nation. Likewise in God there is a providence directing all things to
the good of the universe, the manifestation of the divine goodness in
every order, from the inanimate creation even to the angels and saints
in heaven.

And so by a comparison with the virtue of prudence is formed the
analogical notion of providence, a notion accessible to commonsense
reason and abundantly confirmed by revelation. A prudent person will
first desire the end and then, having decided on the means to be
employed, will begin using them; thus the end, which held first place
in his desire, is the last in actual attainment. So we look upon God
as intending from all eternity first the end and purpose of the
universe and then the means necessary for the realization or
attainment of that end. This commonsense view is expressed by the
philosophers when they say that the end is first in the order of
intention but last in order of execution. This point is of paramount
importance when we are considering the end and purpose of the universe
of material and spiritual beings.

From this general notion of providence we deduce its characteristics.
We will briefly indicate them here before looking for a more vivid and
detailed account of them in Scripture.

1) The absolute universality of providence is deduced from the
absolute universality of divine causality, which in this case is the
causality of an intellectual agent. The causality of God, " says St.
Thomas, extends to all beings, not only as to the constituent
principles of species, but also as to the individualizing principles
(for these also belong to the realm of being) ; it extends not only to
things incorruptible but also to those corruptible. Hence all things
that exist in whatsoever manner are necessarily directed by God toward
some end" (Ia, q. 22, a. 2) . This is demanded by the principle of
finality, which states that every agent acts for some end and the
supreme agent for the supreme end known to Him, to which He
subordinates all else. That end, as we saw when speaking of the love
of God, is the manifestation of His goodness, His infinite perfection,
and His various attributes.

As we shall see, it is constantly asserted in the Old and New
Testaments that the plan of providence has been fixed immediately by
God Himself down to the last detail. His practical knowledge would be
imperfect, were it not as far reaching as His causality, and without
that causality nothing comes into existence. Obviously, therefore, as
was stated above, any reality or goodness in creatures and their
actions is caused by God. This means that with the exception of evil
(that privation and disorder in which sin consists) , all things have
God as their first if not exclusive cause.  As for physical evil and
suffering, God wills them only in an accidental way, in view of a
higher good.  From the absolute universality of providence we deduce a
second characteristic.

2) This universal and immediate sway exerted by providence, does not
destroy, but safeguards the freedom of our actions. Not only does it
safeguard liberty, but actuates it,  for the precise reason that
providence extends even to the free mode of our actions, which it
produces in us with our co-operation; for this free mode in our
choice, this indifference dominating our desire, is still within the
realm of being, and nothing exists unless it be from God.  The
slightest idiosyncrasy of temperament and character, the consequences
of heredity, the influence exerted on our actions by the emotions
--all are known to providence; it penetrates into the innermost
recesses of conscience, and has at its disposal every sort of grace to
enlighten, attract, and strengthen us. There is thus a gentleness in
its control that yields nothing to strength. Suaviter et fortiter it
produces and preserves the divine seed in the heart and watches over
its development (Ia, q. 22, a. 4) .

3) Although providence, as the divine ordinance, extends immediately
to all reality and goodness, to the last and least fiber of every
being, nevertheless in the execution of the plan of providence, God
governs the lower creation through the higher, to which He thus
communicates the dignity of causality (Ia, q. 22, a. 3) .

These various characteristics of providence we will now consider as
they are presented to us in the Old and New Testaments. No better way
can be found to make our knowledge of them not merely abstract and
theoretical, but living and spiritually fruitful.

15. THE CHARACTERISTICS OF PROVIDENCE ACCORDING TO THE OLD
TESTAMENT

In many passages of the Old Testament (e. g., Wis. 6: 8; 8: I; 11: 21;
12: 13; 17: 2) , the doctrine about providence is expressed in terms
that are formal and explicit, and implicitly it is indicated in a
multitude of other texts. Indeed the Book of Job is devoted entirely
to the consideration of providence in relation to the trials the just
endure; and wherever we find mention of prayer, we have an equivalent
affirmation of providence, for prayer presupposes it.

The Old Testament teaching on this subject may be summed up in these
two fundamental points:

1) A universal and infallible providence directs all things to a good
purpose.

2) For us providence is an evident fact, sometimes even a startling
fact, though in certain of its ways it remains absolutely
unfathomable.

We have chosen an abundant array of Scriptural texts, and grouped them
in such a way that they explain one another. The words of the texts
are more beautiful than any commentary can make them.

A universal and infallible providence directs all things to a good
purpose

1) The universality of providence, reaching down to the minutest
things, is clearly taught in the Old Testament. The Book of Wisdom
declares it repeatedly: God made the little and the great, and He hath
equally care of all (6: 8) ; Wisdom reacheth from end to end mightily
and ordereth all things sweetly (8: 1) ; Thou hast ordered all things
in number, measure, and weight (11: 21) ; There is no other God but
Thou, who hast care of all, that Thou shouldst show that Thou dost not
give judgment unjustly (12: 13) . The author then gives this striking
example:

Again, another, designing to sail, and beginning to make his voyage
through the raging waves.... The wood that carrieth him the desire of
gain devised, and the workman built it by his skill. But Thy
providence, O Father, governeth it: for Thou hast made a way even in
the sea, and a most sure path even among the waves, showing that Thou
art able to save out of all things.... Therefore men also trust their
lives even to a little wood, and passing over the sea by ship are
saved (14: 1-5) .

This simple description of the confidence shown by those who sail the
seas on a little wood proclaims more cle arly than all the writings of
Plato and Aristotle the existence of a providence extending to the
minutest things. We find the same explicit declarations in certain
beautiful prayers of the Old Testament: for instance, in Judith's
prayer before she set out for the camp of Holofernes:

Assist, I beseech Thee, O Lord God, me a widow. For Thou hast done the
things of old, and hast devised one thing after another: and what Thou
hast designed hath been done. For all Thy ways are prepared, and in
Thy providence Thou hast placed Thy judgments. Look upon the camp of
the Assyrians now, as Thou wast pleased to look upon the camp of the
Egyptians... and the waters overwhelmed them. So may it be with these
also, O Lord, who trust in their multitude, and in their chariots, and
in their pikes, and in their shields, and in their arrows, and glory
in their spears: and know not that Thou art our God, who destroyest
wars from the beginning. And the Lord is Thy name.... The prayer of
the humble and the meek have always pleased Thee. O God of the
heavens, Creator of the waters, and Lord of the whole creation, hear
me a poor wretch, making supplication to Thee, and presuming of Thy
mercy (Judith 9: 3-17) .

Here, besides the existence of an all-embracing providence and the
rectitude of its ways, there is also brought out the freedom of the
divine election regarding the nation from which the Savior was to be
born.

But what is the manner of this divine ordinance?

2) The infallibility of providence touching everything that happens,
including even our present and future free actions, is stressed in the
Old Testament no less clearly than its universal extent. In this
connection we must cite especially the prayer of Mardochai (Esther 13:
9-17) , in which he implores God's help against Aman and the enemies
of the chosen people:

O Lord, Lord almighty King, for all things are in Thy power, and there
is none that can resist Thy will, if Thou determine to save Israel.
Thou hast made heaven and earth, and all things that are under the
cope of heaven. Thou art the Lord of all, and there is none that can
resist Thy majesty. Thou knowest all things, and Thou knowest that it
was not out of pride and contempt or any desire of glory that I
refused to worship the proud Aman.... But I feared lest I should
transfer the honor of my God to a man.... And now, O Lord, O King, O
God of Abraham, have mercy on Thy people, because our enemies resolve
to destroy us.... Hear my supplication.... And turn our mourning into
joy, that we may live and praise Thy name.

Not less touching is Queen Esther's prayer in those same circumstances
(14: 12-19) , bringing out even more clearly the infallibility of
providence regarding even the free acts of men; for she asks that the
heart of King Assuerus be changed, and her prayer is answered:
Remember, O Lord, and show Thyself to us in the time of our
tribulation, and give me boldness, O Lord, King of gods, and of all
power. Give me a well ordered speech in my mouth in the presence of
the lion: and turn his heart to the hatred of our enemy; that both he
himself may perish, and the rest that consent to him. But deliver us
by Thy hand: and help me who hath no helper, but Thee, O Lord, who
hast the knowledge of all things. And Thou knowest that I hate the
glory of the wicked.... Deliver us from the hand of the wicked. And
deliver me from my fear.  In fact, as we read a little later on (15:
11) , God changed the king's spirit into mildness; and all in haste
and in fear seeing Esther faint before him , he leaped from his throne
and held her in his arms till she came to herself.  Thereupon, after
speedily assuring himself of Aman's treachery, he sent him to his
punishment, and leant all the weight of his power to the Jews in
defending themselves against their enemies.

From this it is plain that divine providence extends infallibly not
only to the least external happening but also to the most intimate
secrets of the heart and every free action; for, in answer to the
prayer of the just, it brings about a change in the interior
dispositions of the will of kings. Socrates and Plato never rose to
such lofty conceptions, to such firm convictions on this matter of the
divine governance.

Many other texts in the Bible to the same effect are repeatedly
insisted upon by both St. Augustine and St. Thomas.

In Proverbs, for instance, we read (21: 1) : As the division of the
waters, so the heart of the king is in the hand of the Lord:
whithersoever He will He shall turn it. Every way of man seemeth right
to himself: but the Lord weigheth the hearts.  Again, in
Ecclesiasticus (33: 13) we read: As the potter's clay is in his hand,
to fashion and order it: all his ways are according to his ordering.
So man is in the hand of Him who made Him: and He will render to him
according to His judgment. " Again, Isaias in his prophecies against
the heathen (14:24) says: The Lord of hosts hath sworn, saving: Surely
as I have thought, so shall it be. And as I have purposed, so shall it
fall out: that I will destroy the Assyrian in My land... and his yoke
shall be taken away from them. " This is the hand, " the prophet adds,
that is stretched out upon all nations. For the Lord of hosts hath
decreed, and who can disannul it? And His hand is stretched out, and
who shall turn it away?" Always there is the same insistence on the
liberty of the divine election, on a universal and infallible
providence reaching down to the minutest detail and to the free
actions of men.

3) For what end has this universal and infallible providence directed
all things? Though the psalms do not bring that full light to bear
which comes with the Gospel, they frequently answer this question when
they declare that God directs all things to good, for the
manifestation of His goodness, His mercy, and His justice, and that He
is in no way the cause of sin, but permits it in view of a greater
good Providence is thus presented as a divine virtue inseparably
united with mercy and justice, just as true prudence in the man of
virtue can never be at variance with the moral virtues of justice,
fortitude, and moderation which are intimately connected with it. Only
in God, however, can this connection of the virtues reach its supreme
perfection.

Again and again we find in the psalms such expressions as these: All
the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth (24:10) ; All His works are
done with faithfulness. He loveth mercy and judgment Heb., justice and
right ; the earth is full of the mercy of the Lord (32: 4-5) ; Show, O
Lord, Thy ways to me, and teach me Thy paths. Direct me in Thy truth,
and teach me; for Thou art God my Savior, and on Thee I have waited
all the day long. Remember, O Lord, Thy bowels of compassion; and Thy
mercies that are from the beginning of the world. The sins of my youth
and my ignorances do not remember. According to Thy mercy remember me:
for Thy goodness' sake, O Lord (24: 4-7) . The Lord ruleth me: and I
shall want nothing. He hath set me in a place of pasture. He hath
brought me up on the water of refreshment: He hath converted my soul.
He hath led me on the paths of justice, for His name's sake. For
though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear
no evils, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and Thy staff: they have
comforted me (22: 1-5) . In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped, let me never
be confounded.... My lots are in Thy hands. Deliver me out of the
hands of my enemies, and from them that persecute me. Make Thy face to
shine on Thy servant: save me in Thy mercy.... O how great is the
multitude of Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou has hidden from them
that fear Thee! Which Thou has wrought for them that hope in Thee, in
the sight of the sons of men. Thou shalt hide them in the secret of
Thy face from the disturbance of men. Thou shalt protect them in Thy
tabernacle from the contradiction of tongues (30: I, 16, 17, 20) .

Here we have the twofold foundation of our hope and trust in God: His
providence, with its individual care for each one of the just, and His
omnipotence. All these passages in the psalms may be summed up in St.
Teresa's words already quoted: "Lord, Thou knowest all things, canst
do all things, and Thou lovest me.

Since providence is of such absolute universality, extending to the
minutest details, and since at the same time it is infallible and
directs all things to good, surely it ought to be quite evident to
those who are willing to see it. How, then, in its ways is it so often
impenetrable even to the just? The Old Testament more than once
touches on this great problem.

Providence is for us an evident fact, yet in certain of its ways it
remains absolutely unfathomable

According to the Bible, the evidence that providence in general
exists, is obtained either from the order apparent in the world or
from the history of the chosen people or again from the main features
of the lives of the just and of the wicked.

The order apparent in the world, declare the psalms, proclaims the
existence of an intelligent designer: The heavens show forth the glory
of God: and the firmament declareth the work of His hands (18: 2) ;
Sing ye to the Lord with praise: sing to our God upon the harp; who
covereth the heavens with clouds, and prepareth rain for the earth;
who maketh grass to grow on the mountains, and herbs for the service
of men, who giveth to beasts their food, and to the young ravens that
call upon Him" (146: 7; cf. Job 38: 41) ; All men are vain, in whom
there is not the knowledge of God: and who by these good things that
are seen could not understand Him that He is. Neither by attending to
the works have acknowledged who was the workman.... They are not to be
pardoned. For if they were able to know so much as to make a judgment
of the world, how did not they more easily find out the Lord thereof?"
(Wis. 13: I, 4, 8.)

Providence is no less clearly seen in the history of the chosen
people, as the psalms again remind us, especially PS. 113, In exitu
Israel de Aegypto:

When Israel went out of Egypt... the sea saw and fled: Jordan was
turned back.... What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou didst flee? and
thou, O Jordan, that thou wast turned back? Ye mountains that skipped
like rams, and ye hills like lambs of the flock? At the presence of
the God of Jacob: who turned the rock into pools of water, and the
stony hill into fountains of waters. Not to us, O Lord, not to us: but
to Thy name give glory. For Thy mercy and for Thy truth's sake.... The
Lord hath been mindful of us and hath blessed us. He hath blessed the
house of Israel.... He hath blessed all that fear the Lord, both
little and great.... But we that live bless the Lord: from this time
now and forever.

Lastly, providence is clearly shown in the general life of the just,
in the often perceptible happiness with which it rewards them. As we
read in psalm 111:

Blessed is the man that feareth the Lord: he shall delight exceedingly
in His commandments. His seed shall be mighty on the earth: the
generation of the righteous shall be blessed. Glory and wealth shall
be in his house: and his justice remaineth forever and ever. To the
righteous a light hath risen up in darkness: He is merciful,
compassionate and just.... His heart is ready to hope in the Lord, his
heart is strengthened: he shall not be moved until he look over his
enemies. He hath given to the poor: His justice remaineth forever and
ever.

The providence of God is especially to be seen in the case of those in
tribulation, raising up the needy from the earth and lifting up the
poor out of the dunghill. That He may place him with the princes of
His people (Ps. 112: 7) .

On the other hand, the malice of the wicked receives its chastisement
even in this world, often in a most striking way, another sign of the
divine governance: Be not delighted in the paths of the wicked....
Flee from it, pass not by it.... They eat the bread of wickedness....
But the path of the just, as a shining light, goeth forward and
increaseth even to a perfect day. The way of the wicked is darksome:
they know not where they fall (Prov., chap. 4) .  God withdraws His
blessing from the wicked and delivers them up to their own blindness;
but to His servants He lends His aid, sometimes in marvelous ways, as
when He said to Elias (III Kings 17: 3) : Get thee hence and go
towards the east and hide thyself by the torrent Carith.... I have
commanded the ravens to feed thee there.  In obedience to the word of
the Lord he departed and took up his abode by the torrent of Carith;
and the ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and eventide,
and he drank water from the torrent.

Although providence is thus evident in the life of the just taken as a
whole, nevertheless in some of its ways it remains inscrutable.
Especially is this so in its more advanced stages, where the obscurity
is due solely to an overpowering radiance dazzling our feeble sight.
An outstanding example is that passage from Isaias which pr edicts the
sufferings of the Servant of Yahweh, or the Savior.

Again in psalm 33: 20, we read: Many are the tribulations of the just;
but out of them all will the Lord deliver them. " Judith says:

Our fathers were tempted that they might be proved, whether they
worshiped their God truly.... Abraham was tempted and, being proved by
many tribulations, was made the friend of God. So Isaac, so Jacob, so
Moses, and all that have pleased God, have passed through many
tribulations, remaining faithful.... Let us not revenge ourselves for
these things which we suffer. But esteeming these very punishments to
be less than our sins deserve, let us believe that these scourges of
the Lord, with which like servants we are chastised, have happened for
our amendment, and not for our destruction (Judith 8: 21-27) .

The prophets often spoke of the mysterious character of certain ways
of providence, especially when, like Jeremias, they realized the
comparative futility of their efforts. Isaias (55:6) writes:

Seek ye the Lord while He may be found: call upon Him while He is
near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the unjust man his thoughts,
and let him return to the Lord; and He will have mercy on him: and to
our God; for He is bountiful to forgive. For my thoughts are not your
thoughts: nor your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens
are exalted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways,
and my thoughts above your thoughts.

We find the same expressed in psalm 35: 7: Thy justice, O Lord, is as
the mountains of God: Thy judgments are a great deep.

Nevertheless, in this higher darkness, so different from the lower
darkness of sin and death, the just man discovers which way his true
path lies: he learns to distinguish more and more clearly these two
kinds of darkness, which are at opposite extremes.  Let us say with
the just Tobias (13: 1) after the trials he had endured:

Thou art great, O Lord, forever, and Thy kingdom is unto all ages. For
Thou scourgest and Thou savest: Thou leadest down to hell, and
bringest up again: and there is none that can escape Thy hand. Give
glory to the Lord, ye children of Israel: and praise Him in the sight
of the Gentiles. Because He has therefore scattered you among the
Gentiles, who know not Him, that you may declare His wonderful works:
and make them know that there is no other almighty God besides Him. He
hath chastised us for our iniquities: and He will save us for His own
mercy.  Be converted, therefore, ye sinners: and do justice before
God, believing that He will show His mercy to you.

These, then, are the principal statements in the Old Testament
concerning providence. It is universal, extending to the minutest
detail, to the secrets of the heart. It is infallible, regarding
everything that happens, even our free actions. It directs all things
to good, and at the prayer of the just will change the heart of the
sinner. For those who will but see, it is an evident fact, yet in
certain of its ways it remains inscrutable. This teaching shows us
what confidence we should have in God and with what wholehearted
abandonment we should surrender ourselves to Him in times of trial by
perfect conformity to His divine will; then will He direct all things
to our sanctification and salvation. And so the Gospel proclaims: Seek
ye first the kingdom of God and His justice: and all these things
shall be added unto you (Luke 12: 31) .

16. THE HIDDEN WAYS OF PROVIDENCE AND THE BOOK OF JOB

We cannot speak of the Old Testament witness to providence without
pausing to consider the Book of Job. It w ill be well to pass in
review the general ideas it contains, with particular stress on the
meaning and significance of the conclusion to which they lead.

The book treats of the mystery of suffering or the distribution of
happiness and misfortune in this present life. Why is it that here on
earth even the just must at times endure so many evils? What is the
purpose of this in the plan of divine providence? We shall see that
the general answer to this question is made more precise in num erous
other passages of the Bible which point out that these trials of God's
servants are ordained for a greater good.

There is now practically unanimous agreement with the Church Fathers
that Job was a real person. The conversation between Job and his
friends must have been substantially that attributed to them by the
inspired writer, who then gave to the book the form of a didactic
poem, its main purpose being to instruct. From the literary point of
view it is unusually rich in style. Its purpose is to give the reason
for the ills of this present life. Let us see first of all how the
problem is presented, and then what solution is given to it.

A review of the more important of these texts will be of particular
profit to those souls who find themselves unable to look upon the
question of pure love as just a theoretical problem, but who view it
as a question in which they are deeply and passionately interested.
God's love is concerned more with their griefs than with their words
or their writings; it is because, as with Job, their words are the
fruit of their griefs that they are the source at times of so much
good.

Let us obtain light on this point by consulting St. Thomas' commentary
on the Book of Job, which anticipates some of the most sublime pages
of St. John of the Cross in The Dark Night of the Soul, concerning the
passive purifications that distinguish the night of the spirit.

Is it always on account of sin that misfortune befalls us in this
life?

Is even the innocent man struck down, and if so, why? This is the
question Job asks himself, afflicted as he is by the loathsome
disease. The very beginning of the book (1: 1) says of him that he was
simple and upright, and fearing God, and avoiding evil,  that he had
great possessions, and that he frequently reminded his sons of their
duties toward God, offering holocausts for each one of them.

The Most High God Himself declares of him: There is none like him in
the earth, a simple and upright man, and fearing God, and avoiding
evil (1:8) ; to which Satan replies: Doth Job fear God in vain?... His
possession hath increased on the earth.... But stretch forth Thy hand
a little, and touch all that he hath: and see if he blesseth Thee not
to Thy face (1:9-11) .

Then the Lord said to Satan: Behold, all that he hath is in thy
hand.... And Satan went forth from the presence of the Lord.  These
words recall those our Lord addressed to St. Peter before His passion:
Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift
you as wheat. But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not
(Luke 22: 31) .

The best always are the ones who must undergo this winnowing. This
first and most important chapter of the whole book throws light on all
that follows, the conclusion especially. But Job is not himself aware
of what the Lord has said to Satan or of what he has permitted him to
do. Such are, indeed, the hidden ways of providence, whose secret is
here revealed to us in the opening chapter of the book, while for the
one afflicted they remain a profound mystery.

In point of fact, Job is deprived of all his possessions, and his sons
and daughters meet their death in a tempest. Yet the patriarch is
resigned to God's will, saying: "The Lord gave, and the Lord hath
taken away.... Blessed be the name of the Lord" (1: 21) . Then Satan
obtains leave from God to afflict the holy man with a very grievous
ulcer, from the sole of the foot even to the top of the head (2: 7) .
But still, in spite of the insults of his wife, who bids him bless God
and die,  Job continues faithful to God.

At this point three of his friends arrive to console him: the aged
Eliphaz, the middle-aged Baldad, and a young man named Sophar. They
remain for a long time weeping, unable to utter a word at the sight of
the intense af fliction of their unfortunate friend.

After the coming of his friends, for seven days and nights of
suffering, Job himself remains silent. Then, having reached the limit
of endurance, he opens his lips and says: Let the day perish wherein I
was born. Why is light given to him that is in misery, and life to
them that are in bitterness of soul?... That look for death, and it
cometh not, as they that dig for a treasure.... I am not at ease,
neither am I quiet, neither have I rest  (3:3, 20, 21, 26) .

Thereupon Job's friends address him thus: Behold thou hast taught
many.... Thy words have confirmed many that were staggering.... But
now the scourge is come upon thee, and thou faintest (4: I-5) .
Eliphaz, the eldest, anxious to preserve his reputation for wisdom, is
astonished that Job should let himself be so deeply discouraged: the
innocent, he says, cannot perish: it is only the wicked who are
consumed by the divine wrath. Then he relates how it was revealed to
him one night that no man is just in the sight of God. Job, therefore,
must cease complaining so bitterly unless he wishes to share the fate
of the wicked; let him confess his guilt and implore God's mercy, for
God chastises as a father, and the wounds He inflicts He will also
heal (chaps. 4, 5)

Job replies that his complaints fall far short of the sufferings he
endures: death itself would be more welcome. He hoped to receive some
consolation from his friends, but he was deceived in his expectations;
and yet, all that his friends can reproach him with is, that he spoke
somewhat hastily (6:24-30) . Then, turning to God, he lays before Him
his misfortune, imploring Him to put an end to it by death (7: I-21) .
I have had empty months, and have numbered to myself wearisome
nights.... So that my soul rather chooseth hanging, and my bones
death.... How long wilt Thou not spare me?... I have sinned. What
shall I do to Thee, O Keeper of men? Why dost Thou not remove my sin?

It is Baldad, middle-aged, opulent, self-confident, who, instead of
consoling his friend, replies by insisting that God is not unjust;
such misfortunes as these He inflicts only on those who have sinned
grievously. He then exhorts Job to return to God (chap. 8) . Job
acknowledges that God is wise and just; but, he adds, if any man is
innocent, surely it is I.  And he continues to give free vent to his
complaining (chaps. 9, 10) .

Sophar, the third and youngest of his friends, a passionate,
hot-headed youth, takes the theme from the other two: in his opinion
Job's wickedness far outweighs the severity of his chastisement, and
he, too, exhorts him to return to God.

In chapters 12, 13, and 14, Job acknowledges once again the infinite
wisdom of God, His justice, and His power, sounding the praises of the
divine perfections even more loudly than his friends. Then, in chapter
13, he continues: Although He should kill me, I will trust in Him. But
yet I will prove my ways in His sight: and He s hall be my savior....
I shall be found just. How many are my iniquities and sins? Make me
know my crimes and offenses.  Finally he becomes less vehement,
excuses himself, and implores His judge to have pity on him.

But he does not succeed in convincing his friends. In the harshest
terms Eliphaz continues to maintain that Job does wrong to complain,
seeing that before God all men are guilty (chap. 15) .

Job answers (chap. 16) : I have often heard such things as these: you
are all troublesome comforters.... I also could speak like you: and
would God your soul were for my soul.  Once again he testifies to his
innocence, calling upon God Himself to judge between him and his
friends. Behold my witness is in heaven: and He that knoweth my
conscience is on high. My friends are full of words: my eye poureth
out tears to God.

As St. Thomas says in his commentary, Job's friends have no thought
for the future life; they believe that the just must be rewarded and
the wicked punished even in this world.

Baldad repeats what he has already said, that here on earth misfortune
is always the lot of the wicked. But this time he adds neither
consolation nor promise: to him Job is now a hardened sinner, and he
treats him accordingly. We see, therefore, that of all the trials Job
had to endure, one of the severest comes from his own friends. Losing
sight of the future life, they repeat insistently that all accounts
must be settled here on earth, and thus they oppress him with their
arguments.

It is then that Job, who is a figure of the Christ to come, is
uplifted by an inspiration from on high to that mystery of the
after-life which was hinted at in the prologue. He answers (chap. 19)
:

Behold these ten times you confound me, and are not ashamed to oppress
me. For I have been ignorant, my ignorance shall be with me. But you
set yourselves up against me, and reprove me with my reproaches. At
least now understand that God hath not afflicted me with an equal
judgment.... He hath hedged in my path round about, and I cannot pass:
and in my way He hath set darkness.... He hath taken away my hope, as
from a tree that is plucked up.... He hath counted me as His enemy....
He hath put my brethren far from me: and my acquaintance like
strangers have departed from me.... Even fools despised me.... Have
pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, because the hand
of the Lord hath touched me.... Who will grant that my words may be
written... graven with an instrument in flint stone? For I know that
my Redeemer liveth, and in the last day I shall rise out of the earth.
And I shall be clothed again with my skin: and in my flesh I shall see
God. Whom I myself shall see, and my eyes behold: and not another.
This my hope is laid up in my bosom. Why then do you say now: Let us
persecute him. Know ye that there is judgment.

In spite of this sublime cry of hope, the young Sophar returns to his
original theme, insisting that the misfortunes of this present life
can be explained only as a chastisement of sin.

Job, on the contrary, proves from experience that this is a false
principle (chap. 21) . Doubtless, in many cases the wicked do receive
signal punishment, but there are cases also in which outwardly they
are successful up to th e very moment of their death, whereas
occasionally the just have much to suffer.

Eliphaz comes back persistently to his point; he even goes so far as
to give a long list of the sins Job must have committed: Thou hast
withdrawn bread from the hungry.... Thou hast sent widows away empty
(chap. 22) .

In chapters 28-31 Job maintains that misfortune in this world is not
always a chastisement for a sinful life. He does not know, he
confesses, why he should suffer, but this God knows in His great
wisdom, which to man is unfathomable. Chapter 31 concludes the first
Part of the book. and with it the colloquies of Job, who ends by
reducing his opponents to silence, but without himself discovering the
clue to the enigma.

With the second part there enters a young man, Eliu by name, who gives
proof of some degree of intelligence, but apparently is not altogether
free from over-confidence.   He maintains that Job is being punished
not for any serious crime, but for not having been sufficiently humble
before God; the bitter complaints to which he gave way are themselves
an indication of his interior feelings. Let him repent, therefore, and
God will reinstate him in his former happiness (chaps. 32-37) . To
this Job has no answer, for what Eliu has said is quite possible and
is to a great extent true. Thus every aspect of the problem of
suffering has now been presented; yet still there is something
lacking.

The meaning and significance of the Lord's reply

Finally, in the third part, the Lord Himself intervenes in response to
Job's petition to plead his cause before Him (13:22) .

It is contrary to God's dignity to enter into discussion with men. He
answers by unrolling before the eyes of Job a magnificent panorama of
the wonders of creation, from the stars in the heavens to the wondrous
effects of animal instinct (chaps 38, 39) .

Shalt thou be able to join the shining stars, the Pleiades, or canst
thou stop the turning about of Arcturus? Can'st thou bring forth the
day star in its time?... Dost thou know the order of heaven? And canst
thou set down the reason thereof on the earth?... Wilt thou take the
prey for the lioness, and satisfy the appetite of her whelps?... Wilt
thou give strength to the horse?... Will the eagle mount up at thy
command, and make her nest in high places?

All these works reveal a wisdom, a providence, a perfect adaptation of
means to ends that bear witness to the absolute goodness of their
author, and they should teach men to accept humbly and without
murmuring whatever the Almighty may direct or permit. As we read these
words uttered by Him who is,  we realize intuitively almost that He is
the author and conserver of our being, that He has knit together, as
it were, our essence and existence, which He continues to conserve,
and that He is the cause of all that is real and good in creation. It
has been said that this divine answer does not touch the philosophical
aspect of the question under discussion. As a matter of fact, it shows
that God does nothing but for a good purpose, and that if already in
the things of sense there is this wonderful order, much more sublime
must be the order in the spiritual world, even though it must at times
be obscure to us on account of its transcendence. Later on we shall
see our Lord making use of a more striking similitude: Behold the
birds of the air, for they neither sow, nor do they reap... and your
heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than
they? (Matt. 6: 26.) And so the divine answer arouses in the heart of
Job sentiments of humility and resignation.

In conclusion, God ironically invites Job to take over the government
of the world and maintain there the reign of order and of justice (41:
1-9) . Would he be able to do so, powerless and unarmed as he was, in
face of the two monsters He names? Yet these are no more than a
plaything in the hands of God.  In His description (chap. 40) of the
mighty strength with which He has endowed Behemoth and Leviathan (the
hippopotamus and the crocodile) , the Lord suggests the parallel that
if, like these monsters, the devil has sometimes extraordinary power
in afflicting men, nevertheless he cannot exercise that power without
the permission of God, who can make its very fury subserve His own
good purpose.

And so in the end (chap. 42) Job makes his humble confession: I know
that Thou canst do all things.... I have spoken unwisely, and things
that above measure exceed my knowledge.  He thus acknowledges that his
complaining was excessive and his words sometimes unconsidered.
Nevertheless the Lord tells Eliphaz: My wrath is kindled against thee,
and against thy two friends, because you have not spoken the thing
that is right before Me, as My servant Job hath.... Offer for
yourselves a holocaust. And My servant Job shall pray for you. His
face I will accept, that folly may not be imputed to you.  And the
Lord blessed the latter days of Job with even greater blessings than
before, and he died in peace very advanced in years.

The clue to the whole book is to be found in the first chapter, where
we are told how the Lord permitted the devil to try His servant Job.
The conclusion, then, is obvious: If men are visited by God with
tribulation, He does so not exclusively as a chastisement for their
sins, but to prove them as gold is proved in the furnace and make them
advance in virtue. It is the purification of love, as the great
Christian mystics call it. In the prologue Satan asked (1:9) : Doth
Job fear God in vain?... His possessions have increased on the earth. 
Now we see how even in the greatest adversity Job still remained
faithful to God. That this is the meaning of the trials sent upon the
just is shown in many other passages of the Old Testament.

The trials of the just serve a higher purpose

This teaching receives its confirmation in the two great trials
recorded in Genesis: Abraham preparing, at God's command, to sacrifice
his son Isaac (Gen., chap. 22) and Joseph sold in captivity by his
brethren (Gen., chap. 37) .

God tried Abraham by commanding him to offer as a holocaust his son
Isaac, the son of promise. As St. Paul tells the Hebrews (11: 17) : By
faith Abraham, when he was tried, offered Isaac: and he that had
received the promises offered up his only begotten son (to whom it was
said: In Isaac shall thy seed be called) , accounting that God is able
to raise up even from the dead. Whereupon also He received him for a
parable.  The angel of the Lord stayed the hand of the patriarch, who
heard a voice from heaven saying: Because thou hast done this thing,
and hast not spared thy only begotten son for My sake: I will bless
thee, and I will multiply thy seed as the stars of heaven.... And in
thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed: because thou
has t obeyed My voice (Gen. 22: 16) .

Joseph was tried when, through envy of him, and his dreams and
inspirations, his brethren sold him into captivity. Calumniated by his
master's wife, the innocent Joseph was cast into prison, subsequently
to be raised to the first rank by Pharaoh, who recognized in him the
spirit of the Lord (Gen. 41: 38) . Later still, when under the stress
of famine his brethren came seeking corn in Egypt, he said to them:

I am Joseph. Is my father yet living?... I am Joseph, your brother,
whom you sold into Egypt. Be not afraid, and let it not seem to you a
hard case that you sold me into these countries: for God sent me
before you into Egypt for your preservation.... Not by your counsel
was I sent hither, but by the will of God: who hath made me... lord of
his Pharaoh's whole house, and governor in all the land of Egypt....
And falling upon the neck of his brother Benjamin, he embraced him and
wept" (Gen. 45: 3-14) .

What more eloquent declaration than this of providence, of the divine
governance, which turns to good account the trials of the just,
sometimes even to the welfare of their persecutors, when their eyes at
last are opened?

The same is repeatedly brought out by the psalms, notably 90:11-16,
from which the gradual and tract for the first Sunday in Lent are
taken:

He hath given His angels charge over thee to keep thee in all thy
ways.  In their hands they shall bear thee up, lest thou dash thy foot
against a stone. Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk: and
thou shalt tramp under foot the lion and the dragon.... He that
dwelleth in the aid of the most High shall abide under the protection
of heaven. He shall say to the Lord: Thou art my protector and my
refuge: my God in whom I trust. For He hath delivered me from the
snare of the hunters: and from the sharp word. He will overshadow thee
with his shoulders: and under his wings thou shalt trust. His truth
shall compass thee with a shield: thou shalt not be afraid of the
terror of the night, of the arrow that flieth in the day.... A
thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand:
but it shall not come nigh thee.... For He the Lord hath given His
angels charge over Thee, to keep Thee in all Thy ways.... He will say
: Because he hoped in me I will deliver him: I will protect him
because he hath known my name. He shall cry to me and I will hear him:
I am with him in tribulation, I will deliver him, and I will glorify
him. I will fill him with length of days: and I will show him my
salvation.

In these admirable verses, full of a sublime poetry and a forceful
spiritual realism, we are given a glimpse of the future life.

It is true, doubtless, that the Old Testament rarely mentions this
future life except in a veiled way and usually in symbols. Yet Isaias
(60: 19) , describing the glories of the New Jerusalem, wrote: The
Lord shall be unto thee for an everlasting light, and thy God for thy
glory. The sun shall go down no more.... For the Lord shall be unto
thee for an everlasting light: and the days of thy mourning shall be
ended. " And again (65: 19) : I will rejoice in Jerusalem and joy in
My people, saith the Lord, and the voice of weeping shall no more be
heard in her, nor the voice of crying.

Still more clearly in the Book of Wisdom (3: 1) we read:

The souls of the just are in the hands of God: and the torment of
death shall not touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to
die: and their departure was taken for misery, and their going away
from us, for utter destruction: but they are in peace....

Their hope is full of immortality. 9 Afflicted in few things, in many
they shall be rewarded: because God hath tried them, and found them
worthy of Himself. As gold is tried in the furnace He hath proved
them, and as a victim of a holocaust He hath received them: and in
time there shall be respect had to them. The just shall shine, and
shall run to and fro like sparks among the reeds. They shall judge
nations, and rule over people: and their Lord shall reign forever...
for grace and peace is to His elect.... Then shall the just stand with
great constancy against those that have afflicted them and taken away
their labors.... These shall say within themselves:... These are they
whom we had some time in derision and for a parable of reproach. We
fools esteemed their lives madness and their end without honor. Behold
how they are numbered among the children of God, and their lot is
among the saints. Therefore we have erred from the way of truth....
What hath pride profited us? But the just shall live for evermore: and
their reward is with the Lord, and the care of them with the Most
High. Therefore they shall receive a kingdom of glory and a crown of
beauty, at the hand of the Lord: for with His right hand He will cover
them (5: 1) .

These words, But the just shall live for evermore: and their reward is
with the Lord,  can refer only to eternal life. The psalmist had
already declared: "But as for me, I will appear before Thy sight in
justice: I shall be satisfied when Thy glory shall appear (Ps. 16:15)
. Daniel declares (12:13) : They that are learned in the things of
God, and keep His law shall shine as the stars for all eternity. 
Finally, in his martyrdom, one of the seven Machabees thus addresses
his executioner: Thou indeed, O most wicked man, destroyest us out of
this present life: but the King of the world will raise us up, who die
for His laws, in the resurrection of eternal life (II Mach. 7: 9) .
Tobias had declared: Thou art great, O Lord, forever, and Thy kingdom
is unto all ages. For Thou scourgest, and Thou savest: Thou leadest
down to hell, and bringest up again.... He hath chastised us for our
iniquities: and He will save us for His own mercy" (Tob. 13: 1-2, 5)

Many other texts of the Old Testament give us an insight into the
meaning of the trials sent by God and hint clearly at the higher
purpose He has in view. Judith exhorts the ancients of Israel to wait
patiently for help from the Lord:

They must remember how our father Abraham was tempted, and being
proved by many tribulations, was made the friend of God. So Isaac, so
Jacob, so Moses, and all that have pleased God, passed through many
tribulations, remaining faithful.... As for us... let us believe that
these scourges of the Lord, with which like servants we are chastised,
have happened for our amendment, and not for our destruction (Judith
8: 22-23, 26-27) .

The advantages to be gained by suffering are thus declared by
Ecclesiasticus (2: I-10) :

Son, when thou comest to the service of God... prepare thy soul for
temptation. Humble thy heart, and endure: incline thy ear, and receive
the words of understanding: and make not haste in the time of clouds.
Wait on God with patience: join thyself to God and endure, that thy
life may be increased in the latter end. Take all that shall be
brought upon thee: and in thy sorrow endure, and in thy humiliation
keep patience. For gold and silver are tried in the fire, but
acceptable men in the furnace of tribulation. Believe God, and He will
recover thee and direct thy way.... Ye that fear the Lord, hope in
Him: and mercy shall come to you for your delight.

The Book of Wisdom (chaps. 15-17) contrasts the trials of the good
with those of the wicked, and shows their gradation. The Egyptians are
scourged with extraordinary plagues, but the Israelites by looking
upon the brazen serpent are healed of the serpents' bite; they are fed
with manna from heaven, are led forward by the pillar of fire, and
find a passage through the Red Sea, in which the Egyptians are
swallowed up. And in Isaias we read: I have blotted out thy iniquities
as a cloud and thy sins as a mist: return to Me, for I have redeemed
thee (45:22; cf. 46:2-6) .

Micheas foretells how God will have mercy on His people (7: 14-20) :
He will send His fury in no more, because He delighteth in mercy. He
will turn again and have mercy on us: He will put away our iniquities
and He will cast all our sins into the bottom of the sea. Thou wilt
perform... the mercy to Abraham: which Thou hast sworn to our fathers
from the days of old.

All these Old Testament texts setting forth the reason why trials are
sent upon the just throw light on the final conclusion of the Book of
Job. But it is the Gospel that brings full light to bear upon the last
things; only Christianity can provide the final solution. That
solution, however, is foreshadowed in the Book of Wisdom (245-250 B.
C.) . What the Book of Job declares is that the justice of God, which,
as Job himself recognizes, must some day have effect, is infinitely
beyond our restricted view, and again that in this world virtue,
instead of having as its inseparable accompaniment what men commonly
call happiness, is often seen to be subjected to the severest trials.

With the Christian saints, in fact, the love of the cross is seen to
increase as they grow in the love of God and likeness to Christ
crucified, of whom holy Job was a figure. When misfortune overtakes
us, whether the affliction is a trial or a chastisement, this remains
obscure for each of us. Usually it is both, but then what is the
measure of each? Only God knows. St. Paul, writing to the Hebrews,
gives the solution when he speaks of perseverance in the midst of
trial after the example of Christ (chap. 12) :

Let us run by patience to the fight proposed to us: looking on Jesus,
the author and finisher of faith, who, having joy set before Him,
endured the cross, despising the shame, and now sitteth on the right
hand of the throne of God. For think diligently upon Him that endured
such opposition from sinners against Himself: that you be not wearied,
fainting in your minds. For you have not resisted unto blood, striving
against sin.... Whom the Lord loveth, He chastiseth: and He scourgeth
every son whom He receiveth.... For what son is there, whom the father
doth not correct?... God chastises us for our profit, that we might
receive His sanctification.

It remains true, therefore, that, as Job says (chap. 7) , the life of
man upon earth is a warfare and his days are like the days of a
hireling.  But upon His servants the Lord bestows His grace; although,
as St. Paul says (Rom. 8: 38) , to them that love God all things work
together unto good,  to the very end. All things -- graces, natural
qualities, contradictions, sickness, and, as St. Augustine says, even
sin. For God permits sin in the lives of His servants, as He permitted
Peter's denial, that He may lead them to a deeper humility and thereby
to a purer love.

17. PROVIDENCE ACCORDING TO THE GOSPEL

The existence of providence, its absolute universality extending to
the smallest detail, and its infallibility regarding everything that
comes to pass, not excepting our future free actions -- all this the
New Testament again brings out, even more clearly than the Old. Much
more explicit, too, than in the Old Testament is the conception given
us here of that higher good to which all things have been directed by
providence, though in certain of its more advanced ways it still
remains unfathomable. These fundamental points we shall examine one by
one, giving prominence to the Gospel texts that most clearly express
them.

The higher good to which all things are directed by providence

Our Lord in the Gospels raises our minds to the contemplation of the
divine governance by directing our attention to the admirable order
prevailing in the things of sense, and giving us some idea of how much
more so this order of providence is to be found in spiritual things,
an order more sublime, more bountiful, more salutary, and
imperishable. We have seen that a similar order is to be found, though
less clearly, in God's answer at the end of the Book of Job; if there
are such extraordinary marvels to be met with in the world of sense,
what wonderful order ought we not to expect in the spiritual world.

In the Gospel of St. Matthew we read (6: 25-34) :

Be not solicitous for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your
body, what you shall put on. Is not the life more than the meat and
the body more than the raiment? Behold the birds of the air, for they
neither sow, nor do they reap nor gather into barns: and your heavenly
Father feedeth them. Are not you of more value than they? And which of
you by taking thought can add to his stature one cubit? And for your
raiment why are you solicitous? Consider the lilies of the field, how
they grow: they labor not, neither do they spin. But I say to you that
not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. And if
the grass of the field, which is today and tomorrow is cast into the
oven, God doth so clothe: how much more you, O ye of little faith? Be
not solicitous therefore, saying: What shall we eat: or, what shall we
drink: or, wherewith shall we be clothed? For after all these things
do the heathens seek. For your heavenly Father knoweth that you have
need of all these things. Seek ye therefore first the kingdom of God
and His justice: and all these things shall be added unto you. Be not
therefore solicitous for tomorrow: for the morrow will be solicitous
for itself. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.

These examples serve to show that providence extends to all things,
and gives to all beings what is suitable to their nature. God provides
the birds of the air with their food and also has endowed them with
instinct which directs them to seek out what is necessary and no more.
If this is His way of dealing with the lower creation, surely He will
have a care for us.

If providence provides what is needful for the birds of the air, how
much more attentive will it be to the needs of such as we, who have a
spiritual, immortal soul, with a destiny incomparably more sublime
than that of the animal creation. The heavenly Father knows what we
stand in need of. What, then, must our attitude be? First of all we
must seek the kingdom of God and His justice, and then whatever is
necessary for our bodily subsistence will be given us over and above.
Those who make it their principal aim to pursue their final destiny
(God the sovereign good who should be loved above all things) , will
be given whatever is necessary to attain that end, not only what is
necessary for the life of the body, but also the graces to obtain life
eternal.

Our Lord refers to providence again in St. Matthew (10: 28) : Fear ye
not them that kill the body and are not able to kill the soul: but
rather fear him that can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not
two sparrows sold for a farthing? And not one of them shall fall to
the ground with. out your Father. But the very hairs of your head are
all numbered. Fear not therefore: better are you than many; sparrows. 
So again in St. Luke (12: 6-7) .

Always it is the same a fortiori argument from the care the Lord has
for the lower creation and thence leading us to form some idea of what
the divine governance must be in the order of spiritual things.

As St. Thomas points out in his commentary on St. Matthew, what our
Lord wishes to convey is this: It is not the persecutor we should
fear; he can do no more than hurt our bodies, and what little harm he
is capable of he cannot actually inflict without the permission of
providence, which only allows these evils to befall us in view of a
greater good. If it is true that not a single sparrow falls to the
ground without our heavenly Father's permission, surely we shall not
fall without His permission, no, nor one single hair of our head. This
is equivalent to saying that providence extends to the smallest
detail, to the least of our actions, every one of which may and indeed
must be directed to our final end.

Besides the universality of providence, the New Testament brings out
in terms no less clear its infallibility regarding everything that
comes to pass. It is pointed out in the text just mentioned: The very
hairs of your head are all numbered.  This infallibility extends even
to the secrets of the heart and to our future free actions. In St.
John (6: 64) we read: The words that I have spoken to you are spirit
and life. But there are some of you that believe not; and the
Evangelist adds: For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were that
did not believe and who he was that would betray Him. " Again (13: 11)
during the last supper Jesus told those who were present: You are
clean, but not all"; for, continues St. John, He knew who he was who
would betray Him; and therefore He said: You are not all clean. " St.
Matthew also records the words, One of you is about to betray me. "
Now if Jesus thus has certain knowledge of the secrets of hearts and,
as His prediction of persecutions shows, of future free actions, they
must surely be infallibly known to the eternal Father.

In St. Matthew (6: 4-6) , we are told: When thou shalt pray, enter
into thy chamber and, having shut the door, pray to thy Father in
secret: and thy Father who seeth in secret will repay thee. " And
later we find St. Paul saying to the Hebrews (4:13) : Neither is there
any creature invisible in His sight: but all things are naked and open
to His eyes, to whom our speech is. "

The teaching on the necessity of prayer, to which the Gospel is
constantly returning, obviously presupposes a providence extending to
the very least of our actions. In St. Matthew (7: 7-11) our Lord tells
us: If you then being evil, know how to give good things to your
children: how much more will your heavenly Father who is in heaven
give good things to them that ask Him?" Here is another and stronger
argument for divine providence based on the attentive care shown by a
human father for his children. If he watches over them, much more will
our heavenly Father watch over us.

Likewise, the parable of the wicked judge and the widow in St. Luke
(18: I-8) is an incentive to us to pray with perseverance. Annoyed by
the persistent entreaties of the widow, the judge finally yields to
her just demands so that she may cease to be troublesome to him. And
the Lord said: Hear what the unjust judge saith. And will not God
revenge his elect who cry to him day and night: and will he have
patience in their regard?

Our Lord proclaims the same truth in St. John (10:27) : My sheep hear
My voice. And I know them: and they follow Me. And I give them life
everlasting: and they shall not perish forever. And no man shall pluck
them out of My hand. That which My Father hath given Me is greater
than all: and no one can snatch them out of the hand of My Father. I
and the Father are one.  These words point out emphatically the
infallibility of providence concerning everything that comes to pass,
including even our future free actions.

But what the Gospel message declares even more clearly is whether
there is not after all some higher, some eternal purpose to which the
divine governance directs all things, and further, that if it permits
evil and sin -- it cannot in any way be its cause -- it does so only
in view of some greater good.

In St. Matthew we read (5: 44) : Love your enemies: do good to them
that hate you: and pray for them that persecute and calumniate you:
that you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who
maketh His sun to rise upon the good and bad and raineth upon the just
and the unjust. " And again in St. Luke (6: 36) : Be ye therefore
merciful, as your heavenly Father is merciful.  Persecution itself is
turned to the good of those who endure it for the love of God: Blessed
are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake: for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when they shall revile you and
persecute you and speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for My
name's sake: be glad and rejoice, for your reward is very great in
heaven. For so they persecuted the prophets that were before you"
(Matt. 5: 10) .

Here is the full light heralded from afar in the Book of Job and more
distinctly in this passage from the Book of Wisdom (3: I-8) : The
souls of the just are in the hand of God... in time they shall
shine... they shall judge nations: and their Lord shall reign forever.
"

Here is the full light of which we were given a glimpse in the Book of
Machabees (11: 7-9) , where, as we have seen, one of the martyrs, on
the point of expiring, thus addresses his persecutor: Thou, O most
wicked man, destroyest us out of this present life: but the King of
the world will raise us up, who die for His laws, in the resurrection
of eternal life. "

In the light of this revealed teaching, St. Paul writes to the Romans
(5: 3) : We glory also in tribulations, knowing that tribulation
worketh patience: and patience trial; and trial hope; and hope
confoundeth not; because the charity of God is poured forth in our
hearts, by the Holy Ghost who is given to us.  And again (8: 28) : We
know that to them that love God all things work unto good: to such as
according to His purpose are called to be saints.  This last text sums
up all the rest, revealing how this universal and infallible
providence directs all things to a good purpose, not excluding evil,
which it permits without in any way causing it. And now there remains
the question as to the sort of knowledge we can have of the plan
pursued by the divine governance.

The light and shade in the providential plan

We have found clearly expressed in the Old Testament the truth that
for us divine providence is an evident fact, yet that certain of its
ways are unfathomable. This truth is brought out in still greater
relief in the New Testament in connection with sanctification and
eternal life.

Providence is an evident fact from the order prevailing in the
universe, from the general working of the Church's life, and again
from the life of the just taken as a whole. This is affirmed in the
words of our Lord just quoted: Behold the birds of the air, for they
neither sow, nor do they reap, nor gather into barns: and your
heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than
they? (Matt. 6: 26.) So again St. Paul (Rom. 1: 20) : The invisible
things of Him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being
understood by the things that are made, His eternal power and
divinity.

In the parables of the prodigal son, the lost sheep, the good
shepherd, and the talents, our Lord also illustrates how providence is
concerned with the souls of men. All that tenderness of heart shown by
the father of the prodigal is already in an infinitely more perfect
way possessed by God, whose providence watches over the souls of men
more than any other earthly creature, in the lives of the just
especially, in which everything is made to concur in their final end.

Jesus also proclaims how with His Father He will watch over the
Church, and we now find verified these words of His: Thou art Peter,
and upon this rock I will build My Church. And the gates of hell shall
not prevail against it" (Matt. 16: 18) ; Going therefore, teach ye all
nations: baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and
of the Holy Ghost; teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I
have commanded you. And behold I am with you all days, even to the
consummation of the world (Matt. 28: 1920) . We are now witnessing in
the spread of the Gospel in the nations throughout the five continents
the realization of this providential plan, which in its general lines
stands out quite distinctly.

In this plan of providence, however, there are also elements of
profound mystery, and our Lord will have us to understand that to the
humble and childlike, however, these mysterious elements will appear
quite simple; their humility will enable them to penetrate even to the
heights of God. First and foremost there is the mystery of the
redemption, of the sorrowful passion and all that followed, a mystery
which Jesus only reveals to His disciples little by little as they are
able to bear it, a mystery that at the moment of its accomplishment
will be a cause of confusion to them.

There is also the whole mystery of salvation: I confess to Thee, O
Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because Thou hast hidden these
things from the wise and prudent and hast revealed them to little
ones. Yea, Father: for so hath it seemed good in Thy sight (Matt. 11:
25) ; MY sheep hear my voice. And I know them: and they follow me. And
I give them life everlasting: and they shall not perish forever (John
10: 27) .

There shall arise false christs and false prophets and shall show
great signs and wonders, insomuch as to deceive (if possible) even the
elect (Matt. 24:24) ; Of that day and hour the last no one knoweth:
no, not the angels in heaven, but the Father alone. And the same must
be said of the hour of our death. Watch ye therefore, because you know
not what hour your Lord will come (Matt. 24: 36, 42) . The Apocalypse,
which foretells these events in obscure and symbolic language, remains
still a book sealed with seven seals (Apoc. 5: 1) .

Later on St. Paul lays stress on these mysterious ways of Providence.
The foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that He may confound
the wise: and the weak things of the world and the things that are
contemptible, hath God chosen, and things that are not, that He might
bring to nought the things that are; that no flesh should glory in His
sight (I Cor. 1: 27) . It was through the Apostles, some of whom were
chosen from the poor fisherfolk of Galilee, that Jesus triumphed over
paganism and converted the world to the Gospel, at the very moment
when Israel in great part proved itself unfaithful. God can choose
whomsoever He will without injustice to anyone.

Freely He made choice in former times of the people of Israel, one
among the various nations; from the sons of Adam He chose Seth in
preference to Cain, then Noe and afterwards Sem He preferred to his
brothers, then Abraham; He preferred Isaac to Ismael, and last of all
Jacob. And now, freely He calls the Gentiles and permits Israel in
great part to fall away. Here is one of the most striking examples of
the light and shade in the plan of providence;  it may be summed up in
this way. On the one hand God never commands the impossible, but, to
use St. Paul's words, will have all men to be saved (I Tim. 2: 4) . On
the other hand, as St. Paul says again, What hast thou that thou hast
not received?" (I Cor. 4: 7.) One person would not be better than
another, were he not loved by God more than the other, since His love
for us is the source of all our good.  These two truths are as
luminous and certain when considered apart as their intimate
reconciliation is obscure, for it is no less than the intimate
reconciliation of infinite justice, infinite mercy, and supreme
liberty. They are reconciled in the Deity, the intimate life of God;
but for us this is an inaccessible mystery, as white light would be to
someone who had never perceived it, but had seen only the seven colors
of the rainbow.

This profound mystery prompts St. Paul's words to the Romans (11:
25-34) :

Blindness in part has happened in Israel, until the fulness of the
Gentiles shall come in.... But as touching the election, they the
children of Israel are most dear for the sake of their fathers... that
they also may obtain mercy.... O the depths of the riches of the
wisdom and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are His
judgments, and how unsearchable His ways! For who hath known the mind
of the Lord? Or who hath been His counsellor?... Of Him, and by Him,
and in Him, are all things: to Him be glory forever.

But the only reason why these unfathomable ways of providence are
obscure to us is that they are too luminous for the feeble eyes of our
minds. Simple and humble souls easily recognize that, for all their
obscurity and austerity, these exalted ways are ways of goodness and
love. St. Paul points this out when he writes to the Ephesians (3: 18)
: I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom all
paternity in heaven and earth is named... that you may be able to
comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and
height and depth, to know also the charity of Christ, which surpasseth
all knowledge: that you may be filled unto all the fulness of God.

Amplitude in the ways of providence consists in their reaching to
every part of the universe, to all the souls of men, to every secret
of the heart. In their length they extend through every period of
time, from the creation down to the end of time and on to the eternal
life of the elect. Their depth lies in the permission of evil,
sometimes terrible evil, and in view of some higher purpose which will
be seen clearly only in heaven. Their height is measured by the
sublimity of God's glory and the glory of the elect, the splendor of
God's reign finally and completely established in the souls of men.

Thus providence is made manifest in the general outlines of the plan
it pursues, but its more exalted ways remain for us a mystery.
Nevertheless, little by little to the righteous a light rises in the
darkness (Ps. 111: 4) . Every day we can get a clearer insight into
these words of Isaias (9: 2) : The people that walked in darkness have
seen a great light: to them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of
death, light is risen. " And gradually, if we are fai thful, we learn
more and more each day to abandon ourselves to that divine providence.
which, as the canticle Benedictus says, directs our steps into the way
of peace" (Luke 1: 79) .

Abandonment to the divine will is thus one of the fairest expressions
of hope combined with charity or love of God. Indeed, it involves the
exercise to an eminent degree of all the theological virtues, because
perfect self- abandonment to providence is pervaded by a deep spirit
of faith, of confidence, and love for God. And when this
self-abandonment, far from inducing us to fold our arms and do nothing
as is the case with the Quietists, is accompanied by a humble,
generous fulfilment of our daily duties, it is one of the surest ways
of arriving at union with God and of preserving it unbroken even in
the severest trials. Once we have done our utmost to accomplish the
will of God day after day, we can and we must abandon ourselves to Him
in all else. In this way we shall find peace even in tribulation. We
shall see how God takes upon Himself the guidance of souls that, while
continuing to perform their daily duties, abandon themselves
completely to Him; and the more He seems to blind their eyes, the
saints tell us, the more surely does He lead them, urging them on in
their upward course into a land where, as St. John of the Cross says,
the beaten track has disappeared, where the Holy Ghost alone can
direct them by His divine inspirations.

18. PROVIDENCE AND PRAYER

When we reflect on the infallibility of God's foreknowledge and the
unchangeableness of the decrees of providence, not infrequently a
difficulty occurs to the mind. If this infallible providence embraces
in its universality every period of time and has foreseen all things,
what can be the use of prayer? How is it possible for us to enlighten
God by our petitions, to make Him alter His designs, who has said: I
am the Lord and I change not? (Mal. 3: 6.) Must we conclude that
prayer is of no avail, that it comes too late, that whether we pray or
not, what is to be will be?

On the contrary, the Gospel tells us: Ask, and it shall be given you
(Matt. 7: 7) . A commonplace with unbelievers and especially with the
deists of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, this objection in
reality arises from an erroneous view as to the primary source of
efficacy in prayer and the purpose for which it is intended. The
solution of the objection will show the intimate connection between
prayer and providence, since (1) it is founded upon providence, (2) it
is a practical recognition of providence, and (3) it co-operates in
the workings of providence.

Providence, the primary cause of efficacy in prayer

We sometimes speak as though prayer were a force having the primary
cause of its efficacy in ourselves, seeking by way of persuasion to
bend God's will to our own; and forthwith the mind is confronted with
the difficulty just mentioned, that no one can enlighten God or
prevail upon Him to alter His designs.

As clearly shown by St. Augustine and St. Thomas (IIa IIae, q. 83, a.
2) , the truth is that prayer is not a force having its primary source
in ourselves; it is not an effort of the human soul to bring violence
to bear upon God and compel Him to alter the dispositions of His
providence. If we do occasionally make use of these expressions, it is
by way of metaphor, just a human way of expressing ourselves. In
reality, the will of God is absolutely unchangeable, as unchangeable
as it is merciful; yet in this very unchangeableness the efficacy of
prayer, rightly said, has its source, even as the source of a stream
is to be found on the topmost heights of the mountains.

In point of fact, before ever we ourselves decided to have recourse to
prayer, it was willed by God. From all eternity God willed it to be
one of the most fruitful factors in our spiritual life, a means of
obtaining the graces necessary to reach the goal of our life's
journey. To conceive of God as not foreseeing and intending from all
eternity the prayers we address to Him in time is just as childish as
the notion of a God subjecting His will to ours and so altering His
designs.

Prayer is not our invention. Those first members of our race, who,
like Abel, addressed their supplications to Him, were inspired to do
so by God Himself. It was He who caused it to spring from the hearts
of patriarchs and prophets; it is He who continues to inspire it in
souls that engage in prayer. He it is who through His Son bids us,
Ask, and it shall be given you: seek and you shall find: knock, and it
shall be opened unto you (Matt. 7: 7) .

The answer to the objection we have mentioned is in the main quite
simple in spite of the mystery of grace it involves. True prayer,
prayer offered with the requisite conditions, is infallibly
efficacious because God has decreed that it shall be so, and God
cannot revoke what He has once decreed.

It is not only what comes to pass that has been foreseen and intended
(or at any rate permitted) by a providential decree, but the manner
also in which it comes to pass, the causes that bring about the event,
the means by which the end is attained.

Providence, for instance, has determined from all eternity that there
shall be no harvest without the sowing of seed, no family life without
certain virtues, no social life without authority and obedience, no
knowledge without mental effort, no interior life without prayer, no
redemption without a Redeemer, no salvation without the application of
His merits and, in the adult, a sincere desire to obtain that
salvation.

In every order, from the lowest to the highest, God has had in view
the production of certain effects and has prepared the necessary
causes; with certain ends in view He has prepared the means adequate
to attain them. For the material harvest He has prepared a material
seed, and for the spiritual harvest a spiritual seed, among which must
be included prayer.

Prayer, in the spiritual order, is as much a cause destined from all
eternity by providence to produce a certain effect, the attainment of
the gifts of God necessary for salvation, as heat and electricity in
the physical order are causes that from all eternity are destined to
produce the effects of our everyday experience.

Hence, far from being opposed to the efficacy of prayer, the
unchangeableness of God is the ultimate guaranty of that efficacy. But
more than this, prayer must be the act by which we continually
acknowledge that we are subject to the divine governance.

Prayer, an act of worship paid to Providence

The lives of all creatures are but a gift of God, yet only men and
angels can be aware of the fact. Plants and animals receive without
knowing that they are receiving. It is the heavenly Father, the Gospel
tells us, who feeds the birds of the air, but they are unaware of it.
Man, too, lives by the gifts of God and is able to recognize the fact.
If the sensual lose sight of it, that is because in them reason is
smothered by passion. If the proud refuse to acknowledge it, the
reason is that they are spiritually blinded by pride causing them to
judge all things not from the highest of motives but from what is
often sheer mediocrity and paltriness.

If we are of sound mind, we are bound to acknowledge with St. Paul
that we possess nothing but what we have received: What hast thou that
thou hast not received? (I Cor. 4:7.) Existence, health and strength,
the light of intelligence, any sustained moral energy we may have,
success in our undertakings, where the least trifle might mean failure
--all these are the gifts of Providence. And, transcending reason,
faith tells us that the grace necessary for salvation and still more
the Holy Ghost whom our Lord promised are pre-eminently the gift of
God, the gift that Jesus refers to in these words of His to the
Samaritan woman, If thou didst know the gift of God (John 4: 10) .

Thus when we ask of God in the spirit of faith to give health to the
sick, to enlighten our minds so that we may see our way clearly in
difficulties, to give us His grace to resist temptation and persevere
in doing good, this prayer of ours is an act of worship paid to
Providence.

Mark how our Lord invites us to render this daily homage to
Providence, morning and evening, and frequently in the course of the
day. Recall to mind how He, after bidding us, Ask and it shall be
given you" (Matt. 7: 7) , goes on to bring out the goodness of
Providence in our regard: What man is there among you, of whom if his
son shall ask bread, will he reach him a stone? Or if he shall ask him
a fish, will he reach him a serpent? If you then being evil, know how
to give good gifts to your children: how much more will your Father
who is in heaven give good things to them that ask Him?" (Matt. 7: 7,
9-11.) Our Lord's statement carries its own proof. If there is any
kindness in a father's heart, does it not come to him from the heart
of God or from His love?

Sometimes indeed God might be said to reverse the parts, when through
His prevenient actual graces He urges us to pray, to render due homage
to His providence and obtain from it what we stand most in need of.
Recall, for instance, how our Lord led on the Samaritan woman to pray:
"If thou didst know the gift of God and who He is that saith to thee:
Give me to drink: thou perhaps wouldst have asked of Him, and He would
have given thee living water... springing up into life everlasting
(John 4: 10, 14) . The Lord entreats us to come to Him; He waits for
us patiently, always eager to listen to us.

The Lord is like a father who has already decided to grant some favor
to His children, yet prompts them to ask it of Him. Jesus first willed
that the Samaritan woman should be converted and then gradually caused
her to burst forth in heartfelt prayer; for sanctifying grace is not
like a liquid that is poured into an inert vessel; it is a new life,
which the adult will receive only if he desires it.

Sometimes God seems to turn a deaf ear to our prayer, especially when
it is not sufficiently free from self- interest, seeking temporal
blessings for their own sake rather than as useful for salvation. Then
gradually grace invites us to pray better, reminding us of the Gospel
words: Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His justice: and all these
things shall be added unto you (Matt. 6: 33) .

Indeed at times it seems that God repulses us as if to see whether we
shall persevere in our prayer. He did so to the Canaanite woman. The
harshness of His words to her seemed like a refusal: I was not sent
but to the sheep that are lost of the house of Israel... It is not
good to take the bread of the children and to cast it to the dogs.
Inspired undoubtedly by grace that came to her from Christ, the woman
replied: Yea, Lord: for the whelps also eat of the crumbs that fall
from the table of their masters.  O woman,  Jesus said, great is thy
faith. Be it done to thee as thou wilt (Matt. 15: 23, 26-28) . And her
daughter was delivered from the demon that was tormenting her.

When we really pray, it is an acknowledgment, a practical and not
merely abstract or theoretical ack nowledgment, that we are under the
divine governance, which infinitely transcends the governance of men.
Whether our prayer takes the form of adoration or supplication or
thanksgiving or reparation, it should thus unceasingly render to
providence that homage which is its due.

Prayer co-operates in the divine governance

Prayer is not in opposition to the designs of Providence and does not
seek to alter them, but actually co-operates in the divine governance,
for when we pray we begin to wish in time what God wills for us from
all eternity.

When we pray, it may seem that the divine will submits to our own,
whereas in reality it is our will that is uplifted and made to
harmonize with the divine will. All prayer, so the Fathers say, is an
uplifting of the soul to God, whether it; be prayer of petition, of
adoration, of praise, or of thanksgiving, or the prayer of reparation
which makes honorable amends.

One who prays properly, with humility, confidence, and perseverance,
asking for the things necessary for salvation, does undoubtedly
co-operate in the divine governance. In stead of one, there are now
two who desire these things. It is God of course who converted the
sinner for whom we have so long been praying; nevertheless we have
been God's partners in the conversion. It is God who gave to the soul
in tribulation that light and strength for which we have so long
besought Him; yet from all eternity He decided to produce this
salutary effect only with our co-operation and as the result of our
intercession.

The consequences of this principle are numerous. First, the more
prayer is in conformity with the divine intenti ons, the more closely
does it co-operate in the divine governance. That there may be ever
more of this conformity in our prayer, let us every day say the Our
Father slowly and with great attention; let us meditate upon it, with
love accompanying our faith. This loving meditation will become
contemplation, which will ensure for us the hallowing and glorifying
of God's name both in ourselves and in those about us, the coming of
His kingdom and the fulfilment of His will here on earth as in heaven.
It will obtain for us also the forgiveness of our sins and deliverance
from evil, as well as our sanctification and salvation.

From this it follows that our prayer will be the purer and more
efficacious when we pray in Christ's name and offer to God, in
compensation for the imperfections of our own love and adoration,
those acts of love and adoration that spring from His holy soul.

A Christian who says the Our Father day by day with gradually
increasing fervor, who says it from the bottom of his heart, for
others as well as for himself, undoubtedly cooperates very much in the
divine governance. He co- operates far more than the scientists who
have discovered the laws governing the stars in their courses or the
gr eat physicians who have found cures for some terrible diseases. The
prayer of St. Francis, St. Dominic, or, to come nearer to our own
times, St. Teresa of the Child Jesus, had an influence certainly not
less powerful than that of a Newton or a Pasteur. One who really prays
as the saints have prayed, co-operates in the saving not only of
bodies but of souls. Every soul, through its higher faculties, opens
upon the infinite, and is, as it were, a universe gravitating toward
God.

Close attention to these intimate relations between prayer and
providence will show that prayer is undoubtedly a more potent force
than either wealth or science. No doubt science accomplishes marvelous
things; but it is acquired by human means, and its effects are
confined within human limits. Prayer, indeed, is a supernatural energy
with an efficacy coming from God and the infinite merits of Christ,
and from actual grace that leads us on to pray. It is a spiritual
energy more potent than all the forces of nature together. It can
obtain for us what God alone can bestow, the grace of contrition and
of perfect charity, the grace also of eternal life, the very end and
purpose of the divine governance, the final manifestation of its
goodness.

At a time when so many perils threaten the whole world, we need more
to reflect on the necessity and sublimity of true prayer, especially
when it is united with the prayer of our Lord and of our Lady. The
present widespread disorder must by contrast stimulate us constantly
to reflect that we are subject not only to the often unreasoning,
imprudent government of men, but also to God's infinitely wise
governance. God never permits evil except in view of some greater
good. He wills that we co-operate in this good by a prayer that
becomes daily more sincere, more humble, more profound, more
confident, more persevering, by a prayer united with action, in order
that each succeeding day shall see more perfectly realized in us and
in those about us that petition of the Our Father: Thy will be done on
earth as it is in heaven. " At a time when Bolshevism is putting forth
every effort against God, it behooves us to repeat it again and again
with ever deepening sincerity, in action as well as in word, so that
as time goes on God's reign may supersede the reign of greed and
pride. Thus in a concrete, practical way we shall at once see that God
permits these present evils only because He has some higher purpose in
view, which it will be granted us to see, if not in this world. at any
rate after our death

PART IV : SELF-ABANDONMENT TO PROVIDENCE

19. WHY AND IN WHAT MATTERS WE SHOULD ABANDON OURSELVES
TO PROVIDENCE

The doctrine of self-abandonment to divine providence is a doctrine
obviously founded on the Gospel, but it has been falsely construed by
the Quietists, who gave themselves up to a spiritual sloth, more or
less renounced the struggle necessary for the attainment of
perfection, and seriously depreciated the value and necessity of hope
or confidence in God, of which true self-abandonment is a higher form.

But it is possible also to depart from the Gospel teaching on this
point in a sense entirely opposite to that of the Quietists with their
idle repose, by going to the other extreme of a useless disquiet and
agitation.

Here as elsewhere the truth is the culminating point lying between and
transcending these two extreme conflicting errors. It behooves us
therefore to determine exactly the meaning and import of the true
doctrine of self-abandonment to the will of God if we are to be saved
from these sophistries, which have no more than a false appearance of
Christian perfection.

We shall first see why it is we should practice this self-abandonment
to Providence, and then in what matters. After that we shall see what
form it should take and what is the attitude of Providence toward
those who abandon themselves completely to it.

We shall get our inspiration from the teaching of St. Francis de
Sales,  Bossuet,  Pere Piny, O.P.,  and Pere de Caussade, S.J.

Why we should abandon ourselves to divine providence

The answer of every Christian will be that the reason lies in the
wisdom and goodness of Providence. This is very true; nevertheless, if
we are to have a proper understanding of the subject, if we are to
avoid the error of the Quietists in renouncing more or less the virtue
of hope and the struggle necessary for salvation, if we are to avoid
also the other extreme of disquiet, precipitation, and a feverish,
fruitless agitation, it is expedient for us to lay down four
principles already somewhat accessible to natural reason and clearly
set forth in revelation as found in Scripture. These principles
underlying the true doctrine of self-abandonment, also bring out the
motive inspiring it.

The first of these principles is that everything which comes to pass
has been foreseen by God from all eternity, and has been willed or at
least permitted by Him.

Nothing comes to pass either in the material or in the spiritual
world, but God has foreseen it from all eternity; because with Him
there ii no passing from ignorance to knowledge as with us, and He has
nothing to learn from events as they occur. Not only has God foreseen
everything that is happening now or will happen in the future, but
whatever reality and goodness there is in these things He has willed;
and whatever evil or moral disorder is in them, He has merely
permitted. Holy Scripture is explicit on this point, and, as the
councils have declared, no room is left for doubt in the matter.

The second principle is that nothing can be willed or permitted by God
that does not contribute to the end He purposed in creating, which is
the manifestation of His goodness and infinite perfections, and the
glory of the God-man Jesus Christ, His only Son. As St. Paul says (I
Cor. 2: 23) , All are yours. And you are Christ's. And Christ is
God's. "

In addition to these two principles, there is a third, which St. Paul
states thus (Rom. 8:28) : We know that to them that love God all
things work together unto good: to such as, according to His purpose,
are called to be saints" and persevere in His love. God sees to it
that everything contributes to their spiritual welfare, not only the
grace He bestows on them, not only those natural qualities He endows
them with, but sickness too, and contradictions and reverses; as St.
Augustine tells us, even their very sins, which God only permits in
order to lead them on to a truer humility and thereby to a purer love.
It was thus He permitted the threefold denial of St. Peter, to make
the great Apostle more humble, more mistrustful of self, and by this
very means become stronger and trust more in the divine mercy.

These first three principles may therefore be summed up in this way:
Nothing comes to pass but God has foreseen it, willed it or at least
permitted it. He wills nothing, permits nothing, unless for the
manifestation of His goodness and infinite perfections, for the glory
of His Son, and the welfare of those that love Him. In view of these
three principles, it is evident that our trust in Providence cannot be
too childlike, too steadfast. Indeed, we may go further and say that
this trust in Providence should be blind as is our faith, the object
of which is those mysteries that are non-evident and unseen (fides est
de non visis) for we are certain beforehand that Providence is
directing all things infallibly to a good purpose, and we are more
convinced of the rectitude of His designs than we are of the best of
our own intentions. Therefore, in abandoning ourselves to God, all we
have to fear is that our submission will not be wholehearted enough.

In view of Quietism, however, this last sentence obliges us to lay
down a fourth principle no less certain than the principles that have
preceded. The principle is, that obviously self-abandonment does not
dispense us from doing everything in our power to fulfil God's will as
made known in the commandments and counsels, and in the events of
life; but so long as we have the sincere desire to carry out His will
thus made known from day to day, we can and indeed we must abandon
ourselves for the rest to the divine will of good pleasure, no matter
how mysterious it may be, and thus avoid a useless disquiet and mere
agitation.

This fourth principle is expressed in equivalent terms by the Council
of Trent (Sess. VI, cap. 13) , when it declares that we must all have
firm hope in God's assistance and put our trust in Him, being careful
at the same time to keep His commandments. As the well-known proverb
has it: Do what you ought, come what may.

All theologians explain what is meant by the divine will as expressed:
expressed, that is, in the commandments, in the spirit underlying the
counsels, and in the events of life.  They add that, while conforming
ourselves to His expressed will,  we must abandon ourselves to His
divine will of good pleasure, however mysterious it may be, for we are
certain beforehand that in its holiness it wills nothing, permits
nothing, unless for a good purpose.

We must take special note here of these words in the Gospel of St.
Luke (16: 10) : He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful
also in that which is greater.  If every day we do what we can to be
faithful to God in the ordinary routine of life, we may be confident
that He will give us grace to remain faithful in whatever extremity we
may find ourselves through His permission; and if we have to suffer
for Him, He will give us the grace to die a heroic death rather than
be ashamed of Him and betray Him.

These are the principles underlying the doctrine of trusting
self-abandonment. Accepted as they are by all theologians, they
express what is of Christian faith in this matter. The golden mean is
thus above and between the two errors mentioned at the beginning of
this section. By constant fidelity to duty, we avoid the false and
idle repose of the Quietist, and on the other hand by a trustful
self-abandonment we are saved from a useless disquiet and a fruitless
agitation. Self-abandonment would be sloth did it not presuppose this
daily fidelity, which indeed is a sort of springboard from which we
may safely launch ourselves into the unknown. Daily fidelity to the
divine will as expressed gives us a sort of right to abandon ourselves
completely-to the divine will of good pleasure as yet not made known
to us.

A faithful soul will often recall to mind these words of our Lord: My
meat is to do the will of Him that sent me (John 4: 34) . The soul
finds its constant nourishment in the divine will as expressed,
abandoning itself to the divine will as yet not made known, much as a
swimmer supports himself on the passing wave and surrenders himself to
the oncoming wave, to that ocean that might engulf him but that
actually sustains, him. So the soul must strike out toward the open
sea, into the infinite ocean of being, says St. John Damascene, borne
up by the divine will as made known there and then and abandoning
itself to that divine will upon which all successive moments of the
future depend. The future is with God, future events are in His hands.
If the merchants to whom Joseph was sold by his brethren had passed by
one hour sooner, he would not have gone into Egypt, and the whole
course of his life would have been changed. Our lives also are
dependent on events controlled by God. Daily fidelity and trusting
self-abandonment thus give the spiritual life its balance, its
stability and harmony. In this way we live our lives in almost
continuous recollection, in an ever-increasing self-abnegation, and
these are the conditions normally required for contemplation and union
with God. This, then, is the reason why our life should be one of
self-abandonment to the divine will as yet unknown to us and at the
same time supported every moment by that will as already made known to
us.

In this union of fidelity and self-abandonment we have some idea of
the way in which asceticism, insisting on fidelity or conformity to
the divine will, should be united with mysticism, which emphasizes
self-abandonment.

In what matters we should abandon ourselves to divine Providence

Once we have complied with the principles just laid down, when we have
done all that the law of God and Christian prudence demand, our
self-abandonment should then embrace everything. What does this
involve? In the first place, our whole future, what our circumstances
will be tomorrow, in twenty years and more. We must also abandon
ourselves to God in all that concerns the present, in the midst of the
difficulties we may be experiencing right now; even our past life, our
past actions with all their consequences should be abandoned to the
divine mercy.

We must likewise abandon ourselves to God in all that affects the
body, in health and sickness, as well as in all that affects the soul,
whether it be joy or tribulation, of long or brief duration. We must
abandon ourselves to God in all that concerns the good will or malice
of men.  Says St. Paul:

If God be for us, who is against us? He that spared not His own Son,
but delivered Him up for us all, how hath He not also, with Him, given
us all things?... Who then shall separate us from the love of Christ?
Shall tribulations? Or distress? Or famine? Or nakedness? Or danger?
Or persecutions? Or the sword?... I am sure that neither death, nor
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things to come,
nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be
able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our
Lord.

Could there be a more perfect self-abandonment in the spirit ; of
faith, hope, and love? This is an abandonment embracing all the
vicissitudes of this world, all the upheavals that may convulse it,
embracing life and death, the hour of death, and the circumstances,
peaceful or violent, in which we breathe forth our last sigh.

The same thought has been expressed in the psalms: Fear the Lord...
for there is no want to them that fear Him. The rich have wanted, and
have suffered hunger: but they that seek the Lord shall not be
deprived of any good (Ps. 33: 10) ; 0 how great is the multitude of
Thy sweetness, O Lord, which Thou hast hidden for them that fear Thee!
Which Thou hast wrought for them that hope in Thee.... Thou shalt hide
them in the secret of Thy face from the disturbance of men. Thou shalt
protect them in Thy tabernacle from the contradiction of tongues (Ps.
30:20-21) .

And again Job: I have not sinned: and my eye abideth in bitterness.
Deliver me, O Lord, and set me beside Thee and let any man's hand
fight against me (17:3) .

Thus, as recorded in the Book of Daniel (13:42) , the daughter of
Helcias, the worthy Susanna, abandoned herself to God under the vile
calumnies of the two ancients. O eternal God, " she cries, who knowest
hidden things, who knowest all things before they come to pass, Thou
knowest that they have borne false witness against me: and behold I
must die, whereas I have done none of these things which these men
have maliciously forged against me. " It is recorded in the prophecy
how the Lord heard the prayer of this noble woman: And when she was
led to be put to death, the Lord raised up the holy spirit of a young
boy whose name was Daniel. And he cried out with a loud voice: I am
clear of the blood of this woman. Then all the people, turning
themselves toward him, said: What meaneth this word that thou hast
spoken?" Inspired by God, the young Daniel then showed how her two
accusers had borne false witness. Separating them one from the other,
he questioned them apart in the presence of the people, and thus all
unintentionally they showed by their contradictory statements that
they had lied.

What is our practical conclusion to be? It is this, that in doing our
utmost to carry out our daily duties we must for the rest abandon
ourselves to divine providence, and that with the most childlike
confidence. And if we are really striving to be faithful in little
things, in the practice of humility, gentleness, and patience, in the
daily r outine of our lives, God on His part will give us grace to be
faithful in greater and more difficult things, should He perchance ask
them of us; then, in those exceptional circumstances, He will give to
those that seek Him exceptional graces.

In psalm 54: 23 we are told: Cast thy care upon the Lord, and He shall
sustain thee: He shall not suffer the just to waver forever.... But I
will trust Thee, O Lord.

Imbued with these same sentiments, St. Paul writes to the Philippians
(4: 4) : Rejoice in the Lord always: again, I say, rejoice. Let your
modesty be known to all men. The Lord is nigh. Be nothing solicitous:
but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let
your petitions be made known to God. And the peace of God, which
surpasseth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in Christ
Jesus.

Again, in order to exhort us to have confidence, St. Peter tells us in
his First Epistle (5: 5) :

Be ye humbled therefore under the mighty hand of God, that He may
exalt you in the time of visitation: casting all your care upon Him,
for He hath care of you. Be sober and watch: because your adversary
the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour.
Whom resist ye, strong in faith: knowing that the same affliction
befalls your brethren who are in the world. But the God of all grace,
who hath called us into His eternal glory in Christ Jesus, after you
have suffered a little, will Himself perfect you and confirm you and
establish you.

Blessed are they that trust in Him" (Ps. 2: 13) . They that hope in
the Lord,  says Isaias, shall renew their strength.... They shall walk
and not faint (40: 31) .

We have a perfect model of this abandonment to divine providence in
St. Joseph, in the many difficulties that beset him at the moment of
our Lord's birth at Bethlehem, and again when he heard the mournful
prophecy of the aged Simeon, and during all the time that elapsed from
the flight away from Herod into Egypt until the return to Nazareth.

Following his example, let us live our lives in that same spirit,
fulfilling our daily duties, and the grace of God will never be
wanting. By His grace we shall be equal to anything He asks of us, no
matter how difficult it may sometimes be.

20. THE MANNER IN WHICH WE MUST ABANDON OURSELVES TO
PROVIDENCE

We have said that it is because of the wisdom and goodness of
providence that we should put our trust in it and abandon ourselves
completely to it; and further, that, provided we fulfil our daily
duties, this self-surrender should then embrace everything, all that
concerns both soul and body, remembering that if we are faithful in
small things grace will be given us to be faithful in what is greater.

Now let us see what forms this confidence and self-abandonment must
take according to the nature of events as these do or do not depend on
the will of man; let us see what spirit should animate it, what
virtues should inspire it.

On the various ways of abandoning oneself to providence according to
the nature of the event

In order to have a proper understanding of the doctrine of holy
indifference, it is well to point out, as spiritual writers frequently
do,  that our self-abandonment must be in different ways in so far as
events independent of the human will call for a type of
self-abandonment different from that required by the injustice done to
us by men, or our personal sins and their consequences.

Where it concerns events independent of the human will (such as
accidents impossible to foresee, incurable diseases) , our
self-abandonment cannot be too absolute. Resistance here would be
useless and would only serve to make us more unhappy; whereas, by
accepting them in the spirit of faith, confidence and love, these
unavoidable sufferings will become very meritorious.  In times of
affliction, as often as we say, Thy will be done,  we acquire new
merit, and thus what is a real trial becomes a means of great
sanctification. Moreover, even in trials that may come upon us, but
which perhaps will never materialize, self-abandonment is still of
great profit. In preparing to sacrifice his son with perfect
self-abandonment, Abraham gained much merit, even though in the event
God ceased to demand it of him. By the practice of self-abandonment
trials present and to come thus become means of sanctification, the
more so as it is inspired by a more intense love for God.

Where it concerns sufferings brought upon us through the injustice of
men, their ill will, their unfairness in their dealings with us, their
calumnies, what must our attitude be?

St. Thomas,  speaking of the injuries and undeserved reproaches, the
insults and slanders that affect only our person, declares we must be
ready to bear them with patience in compliance with our Lord's words:
If one strike thee on thy right cheek, turn to him also the other
(Matt. 5: 39) . But, he continues, there are occasions when some
answer is called for, either for the good of the person who injures
us, to put a stop to his insolence, or to avoid the scandal such
slanders and calumnies may cause. If we do feel bound to retaliate and
offer some sort of resistance, let us put ourselves unreservedly in
God's hands for the success of the steps we take. In other words, we
must deplore and reprove these acts of injustice not because they are
wounding to our self-love and pride, but because they are an offense
against God, endangering the salvation of the guilty parties and of
those who may be led astray by them.

So far as we are concerned, we should see in the injustice men do to
us the action of divine justice permitting this evil in order to give
us an opportunity of expiating other and very real failings, failings
with which no one reproaches us. It is well also to see in this sort
of trial the action of divine mercy, which would make of it a means to
detach us from creatures, to rid us of our inordinate affections, our
pride and lukewarmness, and thus oblige us to have immediate recourse
to a fervent prayer of supplication. Spiritually these acts of
injustice are like the surgeon's knife, very painful at times but a
great corrective. The suffering they cause must bring home to us the
value of true justice; not only must it lead us to be just in our
dealings with our neighbor, but it must give birth in us to the
beatitude of those who, as the Gospel says, hunger and thirst after
justice and who shall indeed have their fill.

And so, instead of upsetting and embittering us, men's contempt for us
may have a very salutary effect, by impressing us with the utter
vanity of all human glory and with the sublimity of the glory of God
as the saints have understood it. It is the way leading to that true
humility which causes us to accept contempt and to love to be treated
as objects worthy of contempt.

Lastly, what is to be our attitude regarding all those vexations of
every kind that are the result not of the injustice of others, but of
our own failings, our own indiscretions and weaknesses?

In these failings of ours and their consequences, we must distinguish
the element of disorder and guilt from the salutary humiliations
resulting from them. Whatever our self-love may have to say, we can
never regret too keenly any inordinateness there may have been in our
actions, on account of the wrong it has done to God, and the harm it
has done to our own soul and, as an almost invariable consequence, to
the soul of our neighbor. As for the salutary humiliation resulting
from it, we must accept it with complete self-abandonment according to
the words of the psalm (118: 71-77) : It is good for me that Thou hast
humbled me: that I may learn Thy justifications. The law of my mouth
is good to me, above thousands of gold and silver.... I know, O Lord,
that Thy judgments are equity: and in Thy truth Thou has humbled me. O
let Thy mercy be for my comfort.... Let Thy tender mercies come unto
me, and I shall live: for Thy law is my meditation.

These humiliations resulting from our personal failings are the true
remedy for that exaggerated estimate of ourselves to which we so often
cling in spite of the disapproval and contempt others show for us. It
even happens that pride hardens us to humiliations from a purely
external source, and causes us to offer to ourselves the incense
others refuse us. This is one of the most subtle and dangerous forms
of self-love and pride, and, to c orrect it, the divine mercy makes
use of those humiliations which are the result of our own failings; in
its loving kindness it makes those very failings contribute to our
progress. Hence, while laboring to correct ourselves, we should accept
these humiliations with perfect self-abandonment. It is good for me
that Thou hast humbled me, O Lord.  It is the way leading to a
practical realization of those profound words of the Imitation, so
fruitful to one who has really understood them: Love to be unknown and
accounted as nought.  By this doctrine we must live according as the
occurrences do or do not depend on ourselves.

The spirit that should animate our self-abandonment to Providence

Is it a spirit that depreciates our hope of salvation on the plea of
advanced perfection, as the Quietists claimed? Quite the contrary: it
must be a spirit of deep faith, confidence, and love.

The will of God, as expressed by His commandments, is that we should
hope in Him and labor confidently in the work of our salvation in the
face of every obstacle. This expressed will of God pertains to the
domain of obedience, not of self-abandonment. This latter concerns the
will of His good pleasure on which depends our still uncertain future,
the daily occurrences in the course of our life, such as health and
sickness, success and misfortune.

To sacrifice our salvation, our eternal happiness, on the plea of
perfection, would be absolutely contrary to that natural inclination
for happiness which, with our nature, we have from God. It would be
contrary to Christian hope, not only to that possessed by the common
run of the faithful, but also to that of the saints, who in the
severest trials have hoped on against all human hope, " to use St.
Paul's phrase (Rom. 4: 18) , even when all seemed lost. Nay, to
sacrifice our eternal beatitude in this way would be contrary to
charity itself, by which indeed we love God for His own sake and
desire to possess Him that we may eternally proclaim His glory.

The natural inclination we have from God which leads us to desire
happiness is not a disorder, for it already contains the initial
tendency to love God the sovereign good more than ourselves. As St.
Thomas has pointed out,  in our own organism the hand naturally tends
to prefer the interests of the body to its own and to sacrifice
itself, if necessary, for the safety of the body. And our Lord Himself
says that the hen instinctively gathers her little ones under her
wing, ready to sacrifice herself if necessary to save them from the
hawk, the reason being that, all unconsciously, she prefers the
welfare of the species to her own. In a higher form this same natural
tendency is to be found in man: in loving what is highest in himself
He loves his Creator even more; to cease to desire our perfection and
salvation would be to turn our back upon God.  There can be no
question, therefore, of our sacrificing the desire for salvation and
eternal happiness, as the Quietists imagined, on the plea of advanced
perfection.

Far from it: self-abandonment involves the exercise in an eminent
degree of the three theological virtues, faith, hope, and charity, as
it were fused into one.

It is nevertheless true to say that God purifies our desire from the
self-love with which it may be tinged by leaving us in some
uncertainty about it and so inducing us to love Him more exclusively
for His own sake.

We should abandon ourselves to God in the spirit of faith, believing
with St. Paul (Rom. 8: 28) that all things work together unto good in
the lives of those who love God and persevere in His love. Such an act
of faith was that made by holy Job who, when deprived of his wealth
and his children, remained submissive to God, saying: The Lord gave,
the Lord hath taken away.... Blessed be the name of the Lord (Job
1:21) .

In the same spirit Abraham prepared to sacrifice his son in obedience
to God's command, abandoning himself in the deepest faith to the
divine will of good pleasure in all that concerned the future of his
race. We are reminded of this by St. Paul when he tells us in the
Epistle to the Hebrews (11:17) : By faith Abraham, when he was tried,
offered Isaac: and he that had received the promises offered up his
only begotten son (to whom it was said: in Isaac shall thy seed be
called) , accounting that God is able to raise up even from the dead. 
Far less exacting are the trials we have to endure, though on account
of our weakness they sometimes seem to weigh heavily upon us.

At any rate, let us believe with the saints that whatever the Lord
does He does well, when He sends us humiliations and spiritual dryness
as when He heaps honors and consolations upon us. As Father Piny
remarks, nowhere is there a deeper or more lively faith than in the
conviction that God arranges everything for our welfare, even when He
appears to destroy us and overthrow our most cherished plans, when He
allows us to be calumniated, to suffer permanent ill-health, and other
afflictions still more painful.  This is great faith indeed, for it is
to believe the apparently incredible: that God will raise us up by
casting us down; and it is to believe this in a practical and living
way, not merely an abstract and theoretical way. We find verified in
our lives these words of the Gospel: Every one that exalteth himself
like the Pharisee shall be humbled: and he that humbleth himself like
the publican shall be exalted (Luke 18: 14) . Also we find verified
these words of the Magnificat: He hath put down the mighty from their
seat and hath exalted the humble. He hath filled the hungry with good
things: and the rich He hath sent empty away (Luke 1: 52) . Every one
of us must by humility be numbered among these little ones, among
those that hunger for divine truth which is the true bread of the
soul.

While fulfilling our daily duties, then, we must abandon ourselves to
almighty God in a spirit of deep faith, which must also be accompanied
by an absolutely childlike confidence in His fatherly kindness.
Confidence (fiducia or confidentia) , says St. Thomas,  is a steadfast
or intensified hope arising from a deep faith in the goodness of God,
who, according to His promises, is ever at hand to help us -- Deus
auxilians.

As the psalms declare: Blessed are they that trust in the Lord" (2:
12) ; They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Sion: he shall not
be moved forever that dwelleth in Jerusalem" (124: 1) ; Preserve me, O
Lord, for I have put my trust in Thee (15: 1) ; In Thee, O Lord, have
I hoped, let me not be confounded (30: 1) .

St. Paul (Rom. 4: 18) reminds us how Abraham, in spite of his advanced
years, believed in the divine promise that he would be the father of
many nations, and adds: Against hope, he believed in hope.... In the
promise also of God he staggered not by distrust: but was strengthened
in faith,, giving glory to God: most fully knowing that whatsoever He
has promised, He is able to perform.

We, too, while fulfilling our daily duties, should look to our Lord
for the realization of these words of His: My sheep hear My voice: and
I know them, and they follow Me... and no man shall pluck them out of
My hand (John 10: 27) . As Father Piny notes,  to do one's duty in all
earnestness and then to resign oneself with entire confidence into our
Lord's hands is the true mark of a member of His flock. What better
way can there be of hearkening to the voice of the good Shepherd than
by constantly acquiescing in all that He demands of us, lovingly
beseeching Him to have pity on us, throwing ourselves confidently into
the arms of His mercy with all our failings and regrets? By so doing,
we are at the same time placing in His hands all our fears for both
the past and the future. This holy self-abandonment is not at all
opposed to hope, but is childlike confidence in its holiest form
united with a love becoming ever more and more purified.

Love in its purest form, in fact, depends for its support upon the
will of God, after the example of our Lord who said: My meat is to do
the will of Him that sent Me, that I may perfect His work (John 4:34)
; Because I came down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will
of Him that sent Me (John 5: 30) . Thus no more perfect or nobler or
purer way of loving God can be found than to make the divine will our
own, fulfilling God's will as expressed to us and then abandoning
ourselves entirely to His good pleasure. For souls that follow this
road, God is everything: eventually, they can say in very truth: My
God and my all.  God is their center; they find no peace but in Him,
by submitting all their aspirations to His good pleasure and accepting
tranquilly all that He does. At times of greatest difficulty St.
Catherine of Siena would remember the Master's words to her: Think of
Me and I will think of thee. "

Rare indeed are the souls that attain to such perfection as this. And
yet it is the goal at which we all must aim. St. Francis de Sales
says:

Our Lord loves with a most tender love those who are so happy as to
abandon themselves wholly to His fatherly care, letting themselves be
governed by His divine providence, without any idle speculations as to
whether the workings of this providence will be useful to them, to
their profit, or painful to their loss, and this because they are well
assured that nothing can be sent, nothing permitted by this paternal
and most loving heart, which will not be a source of good and profit
to them. All that is required is that they should place all their
confidence in Him.  ... When, in fulfilling our daily duties, we
abandon everything, our Lord takes care of everything and orders
everything.... The soul has nothing else to do but to rest in the arms
of our Lord like a child on its mother's breast. When she puts it down
to walk, it walks until she takes it up again, and when she wishes to
carry it, she is allowed to do so. It neither knows nor thinks where
it is going, but allows itself to be carried or led wherever its
mother pleases. So this soul lets itself be carried when it lovingly
accepts God's good pleasure in all things that happen, and walks when
it carefully effects all that the known (expressed) will of God
demands.

Then it can truly say with our Lord: My meat is to do the will of Him
that sent Me (John 4: 34) . Therein it finds its peace, which even now
is in some sort the beginning of eternal life within us -- inchoatio
vitae aeternae.

21. PROVIDENCE AND THE DUTY OF THE PRESENT MOMENT

All whatsoever you do in word or in work, all things do ye in the name
of the Lord Jesus Christ, giving thanks to God and the Father by Him
(Col. 3: 17) . To understand more clearly how we should live from day
to day trusting in God, and in a spirit of self-abandonment, it is
well to pay close attention to the duty of the present moment and the
graces offered us to fulfil it.

We will speak first of the duty which presents itself at every moment,
as the saints have understood it, and then we will clarify their
attitude from the teaching of Scripture and theology, which is
applicable to us all.

The duty of the present moment as the saints understood it

The duty at any given moment conveys, frequently under a modest
exterior, the expression of God's will regarding ourselves and our
individual lives. Thus it was our Lady lived her life of union with
God, by accomplishing His will in the daily routine of duties of her
simple life, a life outwardly commonplace like that of any other
person in her lowly rank. Thus, too, did the saints live, doing the
will of God as it was revealed to them from one moment to the other,
without allowing themselves to be upset by unforeseen reverses. Their
secret consisted in submitting constantly to the divine action in the
shaping of their lives. In that action they recognized all they had to
do and suffer, duties to be accomplished, crosses to be borne. They
were persuaded that what is happening at the moment is a sign that
either God wills or permits it for the good of those seeking Him. Even
the evil they experienced taught them something: by taxing their
patience it showed them by contrast what must be done to avoid sin and
its disastrous consequences. Thus the saints see in the sequence of
events a sort of providential schooling. Moreover, they are convinced
that behind the succession of external happenings runs a parallel
series of actual graces which are continually being offered to enable
us to draw great spiritual profit from these events, whether painful
or pleasing. The sequence of events, if looked at in the right
perspective, is an instructive course on the things of God, a sort of
extension of revelation or application of the Gospel truths continuing
down to the end of time.

A distinction is made in almost every sphere between theoretical,
abstract teaching and practical or applied teaching. The same holds
good in the spiritual order, where, in His own way, almighty God
imparts these two k inds of instruction, the one in the Gospel and the
other in the course of our lives.

This important truth about life is often completely disregarded. As a
rule, no sooner do we meet with contradictions and reverses than we
utter nothing but complaints and murmurings. We find that this illness
has come upon us just when there is so much to be done; that something
indispensable is denied us; that someone is depriving us of the
necessary means, or placing insurmountable obstacles in our way as
regards the good we must accomplish or the apostolate to which we have
devoted ourselves.

In these or even more painful circumstances the saints would confess
that fundamentally the one thing necessary is to do the will of God
from day to day. God never commands the impossible. Each moment has a
duty which God makes really possible for every one of us and in the
fulfilment of which He appeals to our love and generosity.

If, then, as a result of our failings, something happens to distress
us, it is a providential lesson which we must accept in all humility
and thus derive some profit from it. If, through no fault of our own,
God permits us to be deprived of certain help, this is because that
help is not really necessary for our sanctification and salvation. The
saints find that in a sense nothing is wanting to them unless it be a
greater love for God. If only we knew the inner meaning of those
incidents we call hindrances, contradictions, reverses,
disappointments, misfortunes, and failures, we should of course
deplore any disorder they might involve (and the saints deplored it,
were pained by it far more than we) , but we should also reproach
ourselves for complaining and give more consideration to the higher
purpose God is pursuing in all that He wills and even in His divine
permission of evil.

Should we wonder that the ways of providence are some times mysterious
and that reason is disconcerted at the mystery? The just man liveth by
faith (Rom. 1: 17) , says the Scripture, and in particular he lives by
the mystery of providence and its ways. Eventually he realizes that,
far from being contradictory, the mystery cannot be rejected without
every phase of our life becoming a contradiction.

More than once the Scripture declares: The Lord killeth and maketh
alive; He bringeth down to hell and bringeth back again. "

The more the divine action makes us die to sin and its consequences,
the more it detaches us from all that is not God Himself, and the more
it vivifies us. It has been said that sometimes grace is a destroyer;
yet, in its workings within us, it does not destroy, but perfects any
good there is in nature, restoring and sublimating it. We may say of
grace as was said of God: It killeth and maketh alive" (I Kings 2: 6)
.

As Pere de Caussade remarks, when explaining these ways of Providence,
 The more obscure the mystery is to us, the more light it contains in
itself; for its obscurity is due to a radiance too intense for our
feeble vision.

Moreover, what happens to each of us personally from one moment to the
other by the will and permission of Providence, is of greater
instruction for us. Therein we may see the expression of the divine
will in our regard at the present moment. In this way, too, within us
is formed that experimental knowledge of God's dealings with us, a
knowledge without which we can hardly direct our course aright in
spiritual things or do any lasting good to others.  In the spiritual
order more than anywhere else real knowledge can be acquired only by
suffering and action. Though our Lord's holy soul from the moment of
His coming into the world enjoyed the beatific vision and an infused
knowledge, yet He willed also to have an experimental knowledge, that
knowledge which is acquired from day to day and enables us to view
things under that special aspect which contact with reality gives when
they have been infallibly foreseen. We foresee that a very dear friend
who is sick has not long to live, yet when death does come and if our
eyes are open to see, it will provide a new lesson in which God will
speak to us as time goes on. This is the school of the Holy Ghost, in
which His lessons have nothing academic about them, but are drawn from
concrete things. And He varies them for each soul, since what is
useful for one is not always so for another. Although we must not be
superstitious and think we see a deep meaning in what is merely
accidental and of no significance, let us in all simplicity listen to
what Providence has to say to each one of us personally in these
concrete lessons it gives. We must not treat this doctrine in a purely
material and mechanical way; it is a question of being
supernaturally-minded in everything, in all simplicity and without
disputings or foolish questionings.

The author just quoted says:

The will of God in the present moment is an ever bubbling source of
sanctity.... All you who thirst, learn that you have not far to go to
find the fountain of living waters; it gushes forth quite close to you
right now; therefore hasten to find it. Why, with the fountain so
near, do you tire yourselves with running about after every little
rill?... O unknown Love! It seems as though Your wonders were finished
and nothing remained but to copy Your ancient works, and to quote Your
past discourses. And no one sees that Your inexhaustible activity is a
source of new thoughts, of fresh sufferings and further actions... of
new saints.

The heart of Jesus is a source of graces ever new. "

As age succeeds age the saints have no need to copy the lives or
writings of those who have gone before; they need only to live their
lives in continuous self-abandonment to God's secret inspirations. In
this they and their predecessors are alike, in spite of differences
peculiar to the age and the individual. Could we but see the divine
light it contains, the present moment would remind us that everything
may contribute to our spiritual adva ncement in the love of God, as
means or instrument, or at least as occasion, by way of trial or by
way of contrast. In the order intended by Providence this present
moment is in some way related to our last end, to the one thing
necessary; and thus each instant of fleeting time has some sort of
relation with the unique instant of unchanging eternity.

Could we but grasp this truth, then not only the time of mass or our
hours of prayer and visits to the Blessed Sacrament would be a source
of sanctification to us, but every hour of the day would take on a
supernatural significance and remind us that we are on our way to
eternity. Hence the pious practice of blessing each hour as it begins,
calling down the divine benediction upon it. At every moment we should
be at God's service; there is no moment of the day that has not some
duty for us to fulfil, some duty toward God or our neighbor, the duty
at least of patiently waiting when external action is no longer
possible. Every minute must find us hallowing the name of God as
though there were nothing more to keep us here in time, as though the
next moment must see our entry into eternity.

In the World War this was the attitude of the more spiritually-minded
when under gunfire. In those three-minute intervals before firing
recommenced, they would say to themselves: One moment, perhaps, and
then death,  and they would live the present moment as though it were
the prelude to eternity.

This, too, was the attitude of the saints, not only in exceptional
circumstances, but in the ordinary routine of their lives: they never
lost the sense of God's presence. Now light is thrown on this attitude
of theirs by the Gospel principles we mentioned and which are as
applicable to us as to them.

The teaching of Scripture and theology on the duty of the present
moment

In his First Epistle to the Corinthians, St. Paul wrote (10: 31) :
Whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever else you do, do all for the
glory of God; and to the Colossians he said (3: 17) : All whatsoever
you do in word or in work, all things do ye in the name of the Lord
Jesus Christ, giving thanks to God and the Father by Him. "

Our Lord Himself said (Matt. 12:34-36) : Out of the abundance of the
heart the mouth speaketh. A good man out of a good treasure bringeth
forth good things: and an evil man out of an evil treasure bringeth
forth evil things. But I say to you, that every idle word that men
speak, they shall render an account of it in the day of judgment. "

The full significance of this doctrine is elucidated by St. Thomas (Ia
IIae, q. 18, a. 9) , who teaches that in the concrete, hic et nunc, no
deliberate act is morally indifferent; every one of our deliberate
acts is either good or bad. The reason is that every deliberate act in
a rational being should itself be rational or directed to a morally
good end, and in the Christian every deliberate act should be directed
at least virtually to God. If this is done, then the act is good,
otherwise it is bad; no other alternative is possible. Our very
recreations and amusements, the walks we take, all must have some
morally good purpose. To take a walk is of course indifferent when
considered in the abstract; to walk in one direction rather than in
another may also be indifferent. But our walk must have in view a
rational purpose: for example, to repair or renew our strength so as
to apply ourselves once again to our appointed task. And thus our very
amusements assume a moral significance and value in our lives as
rational beings.

To adopt the metaphor of a well-known preacher, our deliberate acts
are like drops of rain falling on a mountain peak at the watershed.
Some water flows to the right into one river and so eventually to the
ocean; the rest flows to the left to join another river flowing down
to another sea far off in the opposite direction. So also it is with
our deliberate acts: they are either directed to what is good and so
eventually to God, or they are directed to evil. Not one of these
acts, when presented in the concrete reality of life, is indifferent.

This teaching may at first sight appear severe. That is not so: a
virtual or implicit intention is all that is needed, renewed each
morning at prayer-time and as often as the Holy Ghost inspires us to
lift up our hearts to God.

Nay more, it is a consoling doctrine, for it follows that in the lives
of the just every deliberate act that is not sinful is at once morally
good and meritorious, whether it be easy or difficult, trivial or
heroic.

Again, when rightly understood and really lived, this doctrine is a
source of sanctification. It leads to the reflection that what God
does at any particular moment is well done and is a sign of His will.
Thus Job, deprived of all things, saw in this the will of God trying
Him for his sanctification; thus instead of cursing this most painful
episode of his, he blessed the name of the Lord. Let us, then, learn
to recognize in what is happening every moment something positively
intended by God, or at any rate divinely permitted, and always
directed to some higher good purpose. In this way, no matter what
happens, we shall always be at peace.

The whole doctrine is summed up by St. Francis de Sales in these few
words: Every moment comes to us pregnant with a command from God, only
to pass on and plunge into eternity, there to remain forever what we
have made it.

To see thus constantly in the duty of the present moment the
expression of the divine will comes principally from the gift of
wisdom, which enables us in a manner to see in God, the first cause
and last end, every event whether painful or pleasing. That is why, as
St. Augustine says, this gift corresponds to the beatitude of the
peacemakers: that is, the beatitude of those who preserve their peace
where many an other will be troubled and who will often restore to
those who are in deep trouble the peace they have lost. Blessed are
the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God". (Matt.
5: 9) .

22. THE GRACE OF THE PRESENT MOMENT AND FIDELITY IN LITTLE
THINGS

We were saying that the duty we must accomplish with every succeeding
hour is the expression of God's will for each one of us individually
hic et nunc and thus conveys a certain practical instruction very
valuable for sanctification. It is the Gospel teaching as applied to
the various circumstances of our lives, a real object-lesson imparted
by almighty God Himself.

If we could only look on each moment from this point of view, as the
saints did, we should see that to each moment there is attached not
only a duty to be performed, but also a grace to be faithful in
accomplishing that duty.

The spiritual riches contained in the present moment

As fresh circumstances arise, with their attendant obligations, fresh
actual graces are offered us in order that we may derive the greatest
spiritual profit from-them. Above the succession of external events
that go to make up our life, there runs a parallel series of actual
graces offered for our acceptance, just as the air comes in successive
waves to enter our lungs and so make breathing possible.

This succession of actual graces which we either agree to make use of
for our spiritual benefit, or, on the other hand, neglect to do so,
constitutes the history of each individual soul as it is written down
in the book of life, in God, to be laid open some day for our
inspection. It is thus that our Lord continues to live in His mystical
body, and especially in His saints, in whom He continues a life that
will know no end, a life that at every moment requires new graces and
new activities.

Our Lord has said:

I will ask the Father, and He shall give you another Paraclete, that
He may abide with you forever, the Spirit of truth, whom the world
cannot receive, because it seeth Him not, nor knoweth Him: but you
shall know Him; because He shall abide with you, and shall be in
you.... He will teach you all things, and bring all things to your
mind, whatsoever I shall have said to you (John 14:16, 26) .

To those who will listen, the Holy Ghost is in all things their guide
from day to day, and by His grace He engraves the law of God upon the
soul, doing this either directly Himself or through the preaching of
the Gospel. St. Paul tells the Corinthians: Do we need (as some do)
epistles of commendation to you or from you? You are our epistle...
being manifested, that you are the epistle of Christ, ministered by
us, and written not with ink, but with the spirit of the living God:
not in tables of stone, but in the fleshy tablets of the heart (II
Cor. 3: I-3) . And thus in the souls of men is being written the
interior history of the Church, to be continued down to the end of
time. It is this history which is set out symbolically in the
Apocalypse, and only at the last day will it be read with clarity of
perception.

This is how Pere de Caussade puts it in the following remarkable
passages:

Oh, glorious history! grand book written by the Holy Spirit in this
present time! It is still in the press to turn out holy souls. There
is never a day when the type is not arranged, when the ink is not
applied, when the pages are not printed. We are still in the dark
night of faith. The paper is blacker than the ink.... It is written in
characters of another world, and there is no understanding it except
in heaven.... If the transposition of twenty-five letters is
incomprehensible as sufficing for the composition of an almost
infinite number of different volumes, each admirable of its kind, who
can explain the works of God in the universe?... Teach me, divine
Spirit, to read in this book of life. I desire to become Thy disciple
and, like a little child, to believe what I cannot understand and
cannot see.

What great truths are hidden even from Christians who imagine
themselves most enlightened!... To effect this union with Him, God
makes use of the worst of His creatures as well as of the best, and of
the most distressing events as well as of those which are pleasant and
agreeable. Our union with Him is even the more meritorious as the
means enabling us to maintain it are the more repugnant to nature.

The present moment is ever filled with infinite treasures; it contains
more than you have capacity to hold. Faith is the measure. Believe,
and it will be done to you accordingly. Love also is the measure. The
more the heart loves, the more it desires; and the more it desires, so
much the more will it receive. The will of God presents itself to us
at each moment as an immense ocean that no human heart can fathom; but
what the heart can receive from this ocean is equal to the measure of
our faith, confidence and love. The whole creation cannot fill the
human heart, for the heart's capacity surpasses all that is not God.
The mountains that are terrifying to look at, are but atoms for the
heart. The divine will is an abyss of which the present moment is the
entrance. Plunge into this abyss and you will always find it
infinitely more vast than your desires. Do not flatter anyone, nor
worship your own illusions; they can neither give you anything nor
take anything from you. You will receive your fulness from the will of
God alone, which will not leave you empty. Adore it, put it first,
before all other things.... Destroy the idols of the senses.... When
the senses are terrified, or famished, despoiled, crushed, then it is
that faith is nourished, enriched, and enlivened. Faith laughs at
these calamities as the governor of an impregnable fortress laughs at
the futile attacks of an impotent foe.

When the will of God is made known to a soul, and has made the soul
realize His willingness to give Himself to it -- provided that the
soul, too, gives itself to God -- then under all circumstances the
soul experiences a great happiness in this coming of God, and enjoys
it the more, the more it has learnt to abandon itself at every moment
to His most adorable will.

God is like the ocean, sustaining those who in all confidence
surrender themselves to Him and do everything in their power to follow
His inspirations as a ship will respond to a favorable breeze. This is
what our Lord meant when He said: The spirit breatheth where he will
and thou hearest his voice: but thou knowest not whence he cometh and
whither he goeth. So is everyone that is born of the Spirit (John 3:
8) .

How sublime is this doctrine! As the present minute is passing, let us
likewise bear in mind that what exists is not merely our body with its
sensibility, its varying emotions of pain and pleasure; but also our
spiritual and im mortal soul, and the actual grace we receive, and
Christ who exerts His influence upon us, and the Blessed Trinity
dwelling within us. We shall then have some idea of the infinite
riches contained in the present moment and the connection it has with
the unchanging instant of eternity into which we are some day to
enter. We should not be satisfied with viewing the present moment
along the horizontal line of time, as the connecting link between a
vanished past and an uncertain temporal future; we ought rather to
view it along that vertical line of time which links it up with the
unique instant of unchanging eternity. Whatever happens, let us say to
ourselves: At this moment God is present and desires to draw me to
Himself. In one of the most painful moments of St. Alphonsus' life,
when the beloved congregation he had just founded seemed all but lost,
he heard these words from the lips of a lay friend of his: God is
always present, Father Alphonsus.  Not only did he renew his courage,
but that hour of pain became one of the most fruitful of his life.

Let us in all reverses give heed to the actual graces offered us with
each passing minute for the fulfilment of present duty. We shall thus
realize more and more how great must be our fidelity in little things
as well as in great.

Fidelity in little things

Our Lord tells us (Luke 16: 10) : He that is faithful in that which is
least is faithful also in that which is greater. Again, in the parable
of the talents He says to each of the faithful servants: Well done,
good and faithful servant, because thou hast been faithful over a few
things, I will place thee over many things: enter thou into the joy of
thy Lord" (Matt. 25: 21) . We have here a most important lesson on the
value of trivial things, one very often ignored by those who are
naturally high-minded, who take the first step on the wrong path when
their sense of dignity degenerates into pride. We cannot lay too much
stress on this point in considering the fidelity we ought to show to
the grace of the present moment.

As often noted, in many cases where souls have given themselves to God
in all sincerity and have made generous, even heroic efforts to prove
their love for Him, a critical moment comes when they must abandon a
too personal way of judging and acting -- though it may be of a high
order -- so as to enter upon the path of true humility, that little
humility" which loses sight of self and looks henceforward on God
alone.

At that moment two widely different courses are possible: either the
soul seeks for itself the course to take and pursues it, or it fails
to do so, sometimes going so far astray in its upward path as to go
back again without being altogether aware of it.

To see this path of true humility is to discover in our everyday life,
from morning to night, opportunities of performing seemingly trivial
acts for the love of God. But the frequent repetition of these acts is
of immense value and leads to a delicacy of attitude to God and our
neighbor which, if constant and truly sincere, is the mark of perfect
charity.

The acts then demanded of the soul are very simple and pass by
unnoticed. There is nothing in them for self-love to take hold of. God
alone sees them, and the soul thinks it is offering Him, so to speak,
nothing at all. And yet these acts, St. Thomas says,  are like drops
of water continually falling on the same spot: eventually they bore a
hole in the rock. The same real effect is gradually produced by the
assimilation of the graces we receive. They penetrate the soul and its
faculties, at the same time sublimating them and gradually bringing
everything to the required supernatural focus. Without this fidelity
in little things actuated by the spirit of faith and love, humility,
patience and gentleness, the contemplative life will never penetrate
the active, the ordinary everyday life. Contemplation will be
confined, as it were, to the summit of the intellect, where it is more
speculative than contemplative; it will fail to permeate our whole
existence and manner of life and will remain almost completely barren
whereas it should become every day more fruitful.

This is a matter of supreme importance. St. Francis de Sales more than
once speaks of it.  St. Thomas says the same thing in another way when
he teaches, as we have already seen, that in the concrete reality of
life no deliberate act is hic et nunc morally indifferent.  In a
rational being every deliberate act should be rational, should have an
honorable" end in view, and in the Christian every act should be
directed at least virtually to God as to the supreme object of love.
This truth brings out the importance of the multifarious actions we
have to perform day by day. Perhaps they are trivial in themselves,
nevertheless they are of great importance relative to God and the
spirit of faith and love, of humility and patience that should actuate
us in performing them and offering them to Him.

This critical moment of which we are speaking marks a difficult crisis
in the spiritual life of many fairly advanced souls, who then run the
risk of falling back again.

If a soul that has shown itself generous or even heroic, after
reaching this point is still far too personal in its manner of judging
and acting and does not see the need of a change, it continues on its
way with a merely acquired impetus, and its prayer and activities are
no longer what they should be. There is a real danger here. The soul
may become stunted and its development arrested like one dwarfed
through some deformity. Or it may take a false direction. Instead of
true humility, it may almost unawares develop a sort of refined pride,
which scarcely appears at first except in the small details of daily
life. For that reason this will remain unknown to a spiritual director
living apart from those he directs. This pride will steadily take the
form of an amused condesce nsion, and subsequently develop into an
acerbity of manner in our relations with our neighbor, permeating the
whole life of the day and thus stultifying everything. This acerbity
may lead to rancor and contempt for our neighbor, whom nevertheless we
should love for God's sake.

A soul that has come to this pass will not easily be led to make those
holy considerations which are necessary for it to return to the point
whence it went astray. Such a soul should be recommended to our Lady's
care; in many cases she alone can lead it back into the right path.

The remedy for this evil is to make the soul very attentive to the
grace of the moment and faithful in trivial things.

To quote Pere de Caussade once more:

Actions are not determined by ideas or by a confusion of words which
by themselves would only serve to excite pride.... We must make use
only of what God sends us to do or to suffer, and not forsake this
divine reality to occupy our minds with the historical wonders of the
divine work instead of gaining an increase of grace by our fidelity.
The marvels of this work, which we read about for the purpose of
satisfying our curiosity, often only tend to disgust us with things
that seem trifling but by which, if we do not despise them, the divine
love effects very great things in us. Fools that we are! We admire and
bless this divine action in the writings that relate its history; and
when it is ready to continue this writing on our hearts, we keep
moving the paper and prevent it writing by our curiosity, that we may
see what it is doing in and around us.... For love of Thee, O my God,
and for the discharge of my debts, I will confine myself to the one
essential business, that of the present moment, and thus enable Thee
to act.

This is what is meant by the common saying, Age quod agis. And so, if
we are really doing our utmost day by day to be faithful to God in
little things, He will certainly give us strength to be faithful to
Him in difficult and very painful circumstances, if through His
permission that should be our lot. Thus will be realized the words of
the Gospel: Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof";  He that is
faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in that which is
greater. "

23. THE ATTITUDE OF PROVIDENCE TOWARD THOSE WHO ABANDON
THEMSELVES COMPLETELY TO IT

Fidelity to daily duty by docile correspondence to the graces offered
us every moment, soon receives its reward in that special assistance
which Providence gives to those who practice this childlike
self-surrender. This assistance, it may be said, is shown mainly in
three ways, which it will be well to emphasize: thus Providence gives
special guidance to those souls in their darkness; it defends them
against whatever is hostile to their spiritual welfare; and it
intensifies their interior life more and more.

In what way God guides those souls that abandon themselves to Him

He enlightens them through the gifts of wisdom and understanding,
knowledge and counsel, which with sanctifying grace and charity we
received in baptism and to a greater degree in confirmation. In
imperfect souls these gifts, together with those of piety, fortitude,
and filial fear, are, so to speak, shackled by more or less inordinate
inclinations, so that such souls are living but a superficial life,
which prevents them from being attentive to the inspirations of the
Master of the interior life.

These gifts have been likened to the sails of a boat by which it
readily accommodates itself to the least stir of a favorable wind. In
imperfect souls, however, the sails are furled and will not respond to
the breeze. On the other hand, when the soul does what it can to
fulfil its daily obligations and steer its bark as it should,
abandoning itself to God, He visits it with His inspirations, at first
latent and confused, which if well received, become more and more
frequent, more insistent and luminous.

Then, amidst the joyful and painful events of life, the clash of
temperaments, in times of spiritual dryness, amidst the snares of the
devil or of men, their suspicion and their jealousies, the soul in its
higher regions at any rate remains always at peace. It enjoys this
serenity because it is intimately persuaded that God is guiding it
and, in abandoning itself to Him, it seeks only to do His will and
nothing more. Thus it sees Him everywhere under every external guise
and makes use of everything to further its union with Him. Sin itself,
by its very contrast, will recall the infinite majesty of God.

Then is increasingly realized the words of the Apostle St. John to the
faithful for whom he wrote his First Epistle: Let the unction you have
received from God abide in you. And you have no need that any man
teach you : but as His unction teacheth you of all things, and is
truth, and is no lie (I John 2:27) .

The soul has then less need of reasonings and methods in its prayer
and meditation, or for its guidance; it has become more simplified in
its mode of thought and desire. It follows rather the interior action
of God in its soul, which makes itself felt not so much by the
impression of ideas, as through the instinct or the necessity imposed
by circumstances where only one course is possible. It perceives at
once the depth of meaning in some phrase from the Gospels which has
not previously impressed it. God gives it an understanding of the
Scriptures such as He gave to the two disciples on the way to Emmaus.
The simplest sermons are a source of enlightenment and it discovers
treasures in them; for God makes use of these means that He Himself
may enlighten the soul, just as a great artist may use the most
ordinary implement, the cheapest pencil, to execute a great
masterpiece, a wonderful picture of Christ or the Blessed Virgin.

In God's dealings with souls that abandon themselves to Him, much
remains obscure, mysterious, disconcerting, impenetrable; but He makes
it all contribute to their spiritual welfare, and some day they will
see that what at times to them was the cause of profound desolation
was the source of much joy to the angels.

Moreover, God enlightens the soul by means of this very darkness and
just when He appears to blind it. When the things of sense, which once
so charmed and fascinated us, are obliterated, then the grandeur of
spiritual thing s begins to be seen. A fallen monarch, like Louis XVI
after losing his throne, sees more clearly than ever before the
sublimity of the Gospel and of the many graces he has received in the
past. Formerly he scarcely gave them a thought, being too absorbed in
the external splendors of his kingdom. And now it is the kingdom of
heaven that is revealed to him.

An important law in the spiritual world is that the transcendent
darkness of divine things is in a sense more illuminating than the
obviousness of earthly things. We have an illustration of this in the
sensible order. Surprising as the truth may at first appear, we see
much farther in the darkness of the night than in the light of day.
The sun, in fact, must first be hidden before we can see the stars and
have a glimpse of the unfathomable depths of the sky. The spectacle
presented to us on a starry night is sometimes incomparably more
beautiful than anything to be seen on even the sunniest day. In the
daytime, doubtless, our view may extend far over the su rrounding
country, and even to the sun itself, though its light takes eight
minutes to reach us. But in the darkness of the night we see at a
single glance thousands of stars, although the light from even the
nearest requires four and a half years to reach us. From the spiritual
point of view the same holds true: as the sun prevents our seeing the
stars, so in human life there are things which by their glare obstruct
our view of the splendors of the faith. It is fitting, then, that from
time to time in our lives Providence should subdue this glare of
inferior things so as to give us a glimpse of something far more
precious for our soul and our salvation.

Indeed, in the spiritual order, as in the physical, there is often an
alternation of day and night; it is mentioned more than once in the
Imitation. If we are saddened at the approach of twilight, God could
well answer us by saying: How can I otherwise reveal to you all those
thousands of stars which can be seen only at night?

Thus is verified the truth of our Lord's words when He said: He that
followeth me walketh not in darkness (John 8:12) . The light of faith
dispels the lower darkness of ignorance, sin, and damnation, says St.
Thomas. Moreover, since this divine darkness is owing to a higher
light which is too intense for our feeble vision, it does enlighten us
in its own fashion and gives us a glimpse into the abyss of the
heavens, into the deep things of God, into the mystery of the ways of
Providence. St. Paul says:

We speak wisdom among the perfect: yet not the wisdom of the world,
neither of the princes of this world that come to nought. But we speak
the wisdom of God in a mystery, a wisdom which is hidden, which God
ordained before the world, unto our glory: which none of the princes
of this world knew. For if they had known it, they would never have
crucified the Lord of glory. But, as it is written: That eye hath not
seen, nor ear heard: neither hath it entered into the heart of man,
what things God hath prepared for them that love him. But to us God
hath revealed them by His Spirit. For the Spirit searcheth all things,
yea, the deep things of God.

God has His own way of enlightening souls concerning His intimate life
and the secrets of His ways. Sometimes He seems to blind them, yet, in
reality, just when an inferior light disappears, then it is that He
gives them a more sublime light. For the saint, the darkness of death
is followed immediately by the light of glory. Those around him are
saddened to see this present life coming so quickly to an end; he is
happy to see it drawing to its close, for it means his entry into
everlasting life.

If at times in our lives everything seems desperate, and, as Tauler
says, the masts have gone overboard and the ship is reduced to a mere
hulk in the midst of the tempest, then is the moment to abandon
ourselves to God fully and completely, without reserve. If we do so
with all our heart, God will at once take into His own hands the
immediate direction of our lives, for He alone can save us. The Lord
leadeth the just by right ways and showeth him the kingdom of God"
(Wis. 10: 10) .

The soul that abandons itself to God is defended by Him against the
enemies of its spiritual welfare

This is what St. Paul tells us in the Epistle to the Romans (8: 31) :
If God be for us, who is against us? He that spared not even His own
Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how hath He not also, with Him,
given us all things.  The Book of Wisdom says of the just who in
confidence abandon themselves to God: With His right hand He will
cover them, and with His holy arm He will defend them (5: 17) .

All things are controlled by Providence; the least circumstance,
however insignificant, is in its hands. With Providence there is no
such thing as chance; and so by some little unforeseen incident it can
easily upset the cunning calculations of those hostile to spiritual
good. We have an example of this in the life of Joseph, who was sold
by his brethren. Had not the Ismaelite merchants, by chance
apparently, passed by just when his brothers had decided to put him to
death, he would have been left there in the cistern where they had
thrown him. But it was then and not an hour later, as was ordained by
God from all eternity, that the merchants arrived on the scene, and
Joseph was thus sold into slavery. And so, being led into Egypt, he
was later to be a benefactor to those who had wished to destroy him.
Let us recall also the story of Esther, of the prophet Daniel, and of
many others. j Similar and more striking are the circumstances
surrounding the birth of our Lord. Herod had organized all the forces
at his disposal to put the Messias to death and had then requested the
wise men from the East to obtain for him precise information about the
child. But, having received an answer in sleep that they should not
return to Herod, they went back another way to their own country"
(Matt. 2: 12) . Then Herod, perceiving that he was deluded by the wise
men,... sending, killed all the men children that were in Bethlehem
and in all the borders thereof (ibid., 2: 16) , but an angel,
appearing in sleep to Joseph, commanded him to save the child from the
king's wrath and flee into Egypt.

In the lives of the just it is not miraculous that their guardian
angels intervene at God's command to inspire some holy thought in
them, whether they be asleep or awake; it is a providential occurrence
by no means rare in the lives of those who abandon themselves
completely to God. In the Book of Psalms (90: 10) we are told: There
shall be no evil come to thee: nor shall the scourge come near thy
dwelling. For the Lord hath given His angels charge over thee, to keep
thee in all thy ways. In their hands they shall bear thee up, lest
thou dash thy foot against a stone. " We must not tempt God, of
course; but in the fulfilment of our daily duties we must resign
ourselves humbly into His hands, and those who thus abandon themselves
to Him, He will protect as a mother protects her children. If He
allows persecution, often bitter persecution, to come upon them, as He
did in the case of His own Son, nevertheless He will not allow the
just to lose courage, but will sustain them in invisible ways and, if
in a moment of weakness they should fall, as Peter did, He will raise
them up again and lead them on to the haven of salvation.

The soul that abandons itself to God instead of resisting its enemies,
so the saints tell us, finds in them useful allies. Says Pere de
Caussade:

There is nothing that is more entirely opposed to worldly prudence
than simplicity; it turns aside all schemes without comprehending
them, without so much as a thought about them.... To have to deal with
a simple soul is, in a certain way, to have to deal with God. What can
be done against the will of the Almighty and His inscrutable designs?
God takes the cause of the simple soul in hand. It is unnecessary to
study the intrigues of others against it.... The divine action makes
the soul adopt such just measures as to surprise even those who wish
to take it by surprise. It profits by all their efforts.... They are
the galley-slaves who bring the ship into port with hard rowing. All
obstacles turn to the good of this soul.... All it has to fear is lest
it should take part in a work and so disturb it... in which it has
nothing to do but peacefully to observe the work of God, and follow
with simplicity the attractions He gives it.... The soul in the state
of abandonment can abstain from justifying itself by word or deed. The
divine action justifies it.

Thus it is in the lives of the saints, and, in due proportions, the
way they have followed ought to be ours also.

Not infrequently we hear people who are beset by difficulties say in a
flippant sort of way: Why worry? That is a sheer materialistic and
egotistic conception of the doctrine we are here considering. The
animating principle of this doctrine is a trustful self-abandonment to
Providence. If this trustful self-abandonment is no longer present, as
in such recipes for life as that why worry? then nothing is left but a
body without a soul, a formula of no greater value than the moral
energy of the person who utters it. When one has departed from this
way of salvation, all that is left of the noblest maxims on life is a
dead formula that will serve as an excuse for anything. Yet to all is
offered the light of life in the Gospel. The consecrated host elevated
every morning on our altars is offered up for all, and all can unite
themselves with this oblation. In place of that confidence in God
which should accompany our daily task, for us to substitute an
arrogant assurance based on purely human calculations is a tremendous
misfortune. Man then sets himself up in the place of God; he destroys
the theological virtues within him. He is poles asunder from the
doctrine we are considering here, which is pre-eminently that of life.

God quickens more and more the interior life of souls that abandon
themselves to Him

Not only is He their protector and guide, but He quickens them by His
grace, by the virtues and the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and also
through the fresh inspirations He is continuously sending them.
Moreover, He is quickening them even when He appears to strip them,
even to death itself, according to these words of St. Paul: To me to
live is Christ: and to die is gain (Phil. 1:21) . For many life
consists in sport or art or some intellectual activity, such as
science or philosophy. But for such souls as we are speaking of, life
is simply Christ, or as St. Paul says, union with Christ. Christ is
their life, says St. Thomas,  in the sense that He is the constant
motive of their most profound vital activity. It is for Him they live
and act continuously; not for any human purpose but in very truth for
the Lord, who quickens them more and more, making this life of theirs
depend upon just those things that apparently must destroy them, even
as Christ Himself made of His cross the most potent instrument of our
salvation.

This profound teaching was expressed with remarkable clearness by a
seventeenth century Dominican, Pere Chardon, in his book, La Croix de
Jesus.  He points out that the divine action, in gradually detaching
us from all that is not God, sometimes in most painful ways, tends by
that very detachment to unite us more and more closely to Him. Loss is
thus turned into gain. As grace increases within us, it becomes at
once a source of separation and of union; the progressive separation
is simply the reverse side of the union. Says Chardon:

For fear lest a too frequent enjoyment of consolations should arrest
the soul's inclination to Himself, God interrupts the flow of the
stream in order to make the soul yearn more ardently for the
source.... He withdraws His graces to give Himself instead. He steals
gently through the soul, making Himself master of the faculties and
all their concerns that He may cause it to rejoice in the one
necessary good, which must be loved only in that same solitude in
which the supremacy of its being is isolated from all else.

Thus with the disappearance of an inferior light and life, another
light appears, to illuminate our life in a way far more sublime.

When an apostle is struck down with paralysis in the midst of his
apostolate and in the prime of life, people often imagine that his
influence is at an end, whereas it ought to be, as it often is, the
beginning of something higher, the direct external apostolate giving
place to that hidden yet profound apostolate which exerts its
influence on souls through prayer and self-immolation in Christ and
thereby causes to overflow upon them the chalice of superabounding
redemption.

Act of self-abandonment

This whole doctrine is beautifully summed up in the following
anonymous prayer inspired by St. Augustine:

O my God, I leave myself entirely in Thy hands. Turn and turn again
this mass of clay, as a vessel that is fashioned in the potter's hand
(Jer. 18: 6) . Give it a shape; then break it if Thou wilt: it is
Thine, it has nothing to say. Enough for me that it serves all Thy
designs and that nothing resists Thy good pleasure for which I was
made. Ask, command. What wouldst Thou have me to do? What wouldst Thou
have me not to do? Lifted up, cast down, in persecution, in
consolation, in suffering, intent upon Thy work, good for nothing, I
can do no more than repeat with Thy holy Mother: Be it done unto me
according to Thy word.

Give me that love which is beyond all loves, the love of the cross --
not those heroic crosses with a glory that might foster self-love, but
those ordinary crosses which we bear with so much distaste-those daily
crosses with which our life is strewn and which at every moment we
encounter on our way through life: contradictions, neglect, failures,
opposition, false judgments, the coldness or impulsiveness of some,
the rebuffs or contempt of others, bodily infirmities, spiritual
darkness, silence and interior dryness. Only then wilt Thou know that
I love Thee, even though I neither know nor feel it myself; and that
is enough for me.

This is truly holiness of a high order. Were there but a few such
moments of great affliction in our lives, we should then have reached
the topmost heights and have come very nigh to God. Now every moment
God is inviting us to live this way and lose ourselves in Him.
Especially at such moments as these it can be truly said: The Lord
leadeth the. just by right ways and showeth him the kingdom of God
(Wis. 10: 10) .

24. PROVIDENCE AND THE WAY OF PERFECTION

If one thing more than another should interest us in the providential
plan, it is the way of perfection traced out by God from all eternity.
The itinerary of this ascent has been described by all the great
spiritual writers, but some have given special consideration to its
relations with Providence. Among these is St. Catherine of Siena. We
propose to give here the main outlines of her testimony on this
subject, which she received from on high.

If we choose St. Catherine's testimony in preference to that of other
saints, this is because she has a broad view of concrete realities,
and thus we can easily apply what she says to the spiritual needs of
persons in every state of life. Moreover, her style, though never
descending from the sublime, is so realistic and practical that it is
suited to every type of mind. It almost attains to the loftiness and
simplicity of the Gospels.

It has often been remarked how perfect is the harmony between the
teaching of St. Thomas and that expounded by St. Catherine in her
ecstasies and written down by her secretaries, in that book which has
been called the Dialogue.

Nowhere is this doctrinal harmony more striking than on this subject
of Christian perfection and the path which, in the designs of
Providence, must lead to it. As evidence of this we shall consider the
following points:

1) In what especially does perfection consist?

2) Is perfection a matter of strict precept or is it simply a matter
of counsel?

3) Is the light of faith sufficient for Christian perfection, or is
there also required the light which comes from the gift of wisdom? And
is this light normally in proportion to our degree of charity, of our
love for God?

4) In the designs of Providence, what purifications are necessary for
us to arrive at perfection? Can we acquire it without passing through
the so-called passive purifications, the patient and loving endurance
of the crucifixion of the senses and the spirit?

5) Is every interior soul called by Providence to an infused
contemplation of the mysteries of faith illumined by the gift of
wisdom, and to that union with God which is the result of this
contemplation and which is widely different from such extraordinary
graces as revelations and visions? In other words, according to the
providential plan is the highest point reached normally in the
development of the life of grace here on earth (the normal prelude to
our heavenly life) , of the ascetical order, or does it pass to the
mystical order? Is our own activity under the influence of grace its
distinctive characteristic, or is it rather our docility in responding
to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost?

In reply to these questions we will quote from the Dialogue certain
passages that deal expressly with this subject.

In what Christian perfection especially consists

Does it consist mainly in bodily mortifications or in practices of
piety or in the knowledge of divine things? St. Catherine of Siena
replies with St. Thomas (IIa IIae, q. 184, a. 1) that Christian
perfection consists principally in charity, primarily in the love of
God and secondarily in the love of our neighbor.

This doctrine is very clearly expressed in the Dialogue (chapter 11) 
where we read:

Some time ago, if thou remember, when thou wert desirous of doing
great penance for my sake, asking, What can I do to endure suffering
for Thee, O Lord? I replied to thee, speaking in thy mind, I take
delight in few words and many works. " I wished to show thee that he
who merely calls on me with the sound of words, saying: "Lord, Lord, I
would do something for Thee, " and he who desires for my sake to
mortify his body by many penances, but does not renounce his own will,
was wrong in thinking this to be pleasing to me.... I, who am
infinite, seek infinite works, that is, unlimited surgings of the
heart.  I wish therefore that the works of penance, and of other
corporal exercises, should be observed merely as means, and not as the
fundamental perfection of the soul. For if the principal affection of
the soul were placed in penance, I should receive a finite thing like
a word, which, when it has issued from the mouth, is no more, unless
it has issued with affection of soul, which conceives and brings forth
virtue in truth. It is by means of this interior virtue that the
finite operation, which I have called a word, is united with the
affection of love.

If it is otherwise we shall have no more than the material side of
perfection; the soul and inspiration of the interior life will no
longer be there. In the same passage she tells us: "We must not make
our final end to consist in penance, or in any external act; these, as
I have said, are finite works.... It is good at times for us to
discontinue them, whether this arise from necessity or from obedience
(whereas there must never be any interruption in that life which
consists in the love of God) .... The soul ought therefore to adopt
them as means, and not as an end... they please when they are
performed as the instruments of virtue, and not as a principal end in
themselves.  This last sentence brings out the necessity of avoiding
the opposite extreme in neglecting bodily mortification as practiced
by all the saints.

Merit consists in the virtue of love alone, directed by the light of
true discretion, without which the soul is worth nothing. Discretion
gives me this love endlessly, boundlessly, since I am the supreme and
eternal truth. The soul can therefore place neither laws nor limits to
her love for me; but her love for her neighbor, on the contrary, is
ordered in certain conditions. It is within the scope of charity not
to cause the injury of sin to self so as to be useful to others; for
if one single sin sufficed for the production of an act of great
consequence, it would not be a charity dictated by prudence to commit
it.

Holy discretion ordains that the soul should direct all her powers
unreservedly to my service with a manly zeal and that her love for her
neighbor be such that she would lay down a thousand times, if it were
possible, the life of her body for the salvation of souls, prepared to
endure whatever torments so that her neighbor may have the life of
grace.

This, then, is what Christian perfection consists in especially,
principally in a generous love for God, and secondarily in a love for
our neighbor which is not just affection, but translates itself into
action.

This is why St. Catherine of Siena loves to speak of charity as giving
life to all the virtues,  as rendering their acts meritorious of
eternal life.  It is the mother of them all; it is the bridal garment
of God's servants;  it is like a tree which, when planted in the soil
of humility, lifts high to the heavens its blossoms and its abundance
of fruit, the fruit of eternal life.  The saint frequently insists on
the impossibility of separating love for our neighbor from the love of
God, the love of our neighbor being simply the radiation of the love
we have for God, its sure sign and token.  The love of our neighbor,
she adds, cannot be really efficacious unless we love him in God and
for His sake. It is compared to a vessel filled at a fountain: If a
man carry away the vessel and then drink from it, the vessel becomes
empty, but if he keeps his vessel standing at the fountain while he
drinks, it always remains full. "

If you wish friendship to endure, if you would continue long to
refresh yourself from the cup of friendship, then leave it to be
filled continuously at the fount of living water, otherwise it will no
longer be capable of satisfying your thirst.

We find precisely the same teaching in the Summa Theologica of St.
Thomas. For him, too, perfection consists principally in charity,
which gives life to all the virtues and unites us to our last end, to
God the author of grace; for by charity we love God more than
ourselves, more than all else, and for His sake everything that is at
all worthy of love.

Without charity nothing is of any value for eternal life. No
knowledge, not even the knowledge of divine things can bear any fruit
unless it is united with the love of God. Such knowledge, says the
saint, may be infected with the poison of pride,  and frequently it
will obtain far more light from prayer than from study, that light of
life, at once simple yet sublime, the source of contemplation, by
which knowledge is unified and rendered fruitful.

Perfection and the precept of love

Does this perfection, consisting in a high degree of charity, come
under the commandments or is it merely a matter of counsel?

The teaching of St. Thomas is that this perfection comes under the
supreme commandment, not however as something to be realized
immediately but as the ideal at which all Christians must aim, each
according to his condition, some in the religious life, others in the
world.  The Angelic Doctor declares explicitly that Christian
perfection consists essentially in a generous fulfillment of the
commandments, especially of those two commandments that concern the
love of God and of our neighbor; the actual practice of the three
counsels, poverty, chastity, and obedience is only accidental,
enabling us to arrive at a perfect love for God more readily and more
surely. Such perfection, in fact, is still attainable even in the
married state and in the midst of worldly occupations, as is evidenced
in the lives of a number of the saints.

This same teaching we find in St. Catherine of Siena. In her Dialogue
she points out that the supreme commandment has no limits, as its
phrasing shows: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart
and with thy whole soul and with all thy strength and with all thy
mind (Luke 10: 27) . This law of love is not binding merely up to a
certain degree beyond which charity becomes simply a matter of
counsel; every Christian is bound to aim at perfection in love. We
read in the Dialogue: Thou seest how discreetly every soul... should
pay her debts, that is, should love me with an infinite love and
without measure.   Indeed, St. Catherine distinctly states that,
although it is possible to observe the commandments without the actual
exercise of the three evangelical counsels, nevertheless the perfect
fulfilment of the commandments is impossible without the spirit
animating the counsels, that spirit of detachment from creatures which
is simply one aspect of the love of God and which must always increase
in us.

This point is well expressed by the saint in God's words to her:

Inasmuch as the counsels are included in the commandments, no one can
observe the latter who does not observe the former, at least in
spirit, that is to say, that they possess the riches of the world
humbly and without pride, as lent to them and not their own; for they
are only given to you for your use, through My goodness, since you
only possess what I give you and can retain only what I allow you to
retain. I give you as much of them as I see to be profitable for your
salvation, and in this way should you use them, for a man, so using
them... observes the counsels in spirit, having cut out of his heart
the poison of disordinate love and affection.

As St. Paul said, we should use these things as though we used them
not. This means to possess the things of this world not as their
servants but as their lords,  and not be enslaved by them as a miser
by his wealth.  Thus in every state of life we shall so walk as to
gain eternal life, advancing daily in charity as the supreme
commandment requires, and as Eucharistic communion enables us to do by
strengthening the soul in the measure of its desires.

By following this path the soul may reach the perfection of charity
even in this world, may reach such a pure and mighty love for God and
souls that it will be prepared to accept insults, contempt, affronts,
ridicule, persecution, everything, for the honor of our Lord and the
salvation of one's neighbor.

Perfection and the light which the gift of wisdom imparts in prayer:
the visitation of the Lord

To attain this high degree of charity in which Christian perfection
principally consists, are the light of faith and the use of vocal
prayer sufficient? Must we not have recourse besides to mental prayer,
in which the Holy Ghost illuminates the soul by the light of His
gifts?

Prayer, the saint tells us, is one of the great means of arriving at
perfection.  True prayer, founded in the knowledge of God and of self,
consists in the fervor of desire.  Vocal prayer must be accompanied by
mental prayer, or it will be like a body without a soul.  Again, we
must abandon vocal for mental prayer when God invites us to do so. We
read in the Dialogue:

The soul should season the knowledge of herself with the knowledge of
My goodness, and then vocal prayer will be of use to the soul who
makes it, and pleasing to Me, and she will arrive, from the vocal
imperfect prayer, exercised with perseverance, at perfect mental
prayer; but if she simply aims at reciting a certain number of
stereotyped phrases, and for vocal prayer abandons mental prayer, she
will never arrive at it.... Let her be attentive when I visit her mind
sometimes in one way and sometimes in another, in a flash of
self-knowledge or of contrition for sin, sometimes in the broadness of
My charity, and sometimes by placing before her mind, in diverse ways,
according to My pleasure and the desire of the soul, the presence of
My truth.... The moment she is aware of My imminent presence she must
abandon vocal prayer; then, My visitation past, if there should be
time, she can resume the vocal prayers, which she had resolved to
say... of course provided it were not the divine office which clerics
and religious are bound and are obliged to say.... If they at the hour
appointed for saying it should feel their minds drawn and raised by
desire, they should so arrange as to say it before or after My
visitation.... And so, by practice and perseverance, she will taste
prayer in truth and the food of the blood of My only begotten Son, and
therefore I told thee that some communicated virtually with the body
and blood of Christ, although not sacramentally; that is, they
communicate in the affection of charity, which they taste by means of
holy prayer, little or much, according to the affection with which
they pray. They who proceed with little prudence and without method
taste little, and they who proceed with much, taste much. For the more
the soul tries to loosen her affection from herself, and fasten it in
Me with the light of the intellect, the more she knows; and the more
she knows, the more she loves and, loving much, she tastes much.

St. Catherine shows clearly how those who have reached the state of
union have their understanding illumined by an infused supernatural
light.

The eye of the intellect, " she says,  is lifted up and gazes into My
Deity, when the affection behind the intellect is nourished and united
with Me. This is a sight which I grant to the soul, infused with
grace, who, in truth, loves and serves Me.  It is in this sense that
we say generally that St. Thomas received much more enlightenment in
prayer than from study.  It is that infused contemplation which we
shall find St. John of the Cross speaking of later on and which
usually, he says, is granted to the more advanced and to the perfect. 
St. Catherine continues:

The doctors, confessors, virgins, and martyrs, all of them had this
infused knowledge and received their inspiration therefrom, each in a
different way, according to the demands of their own or their
neighbor's salvation.... This supernatural light is given by grace to
the humble who are desirous of receiving it... but the proud blind
themselves to this light, because their pride and the cloud of
self-love prevents them from seeing this light. Wherefore, in
examining the books of the Scripture, they interpret it merely in a
literal sense. They get not to the marrow of it, because they have
deprived themselves of the light by which the Scripture was written
and is interpreted.

We see it to be the general rule, as St. Thomas already declared, 
that this vital illumination proceeding from the gift of wisdom is
bestowed to a degree corresponding to that of charity. Hence St.
Catherine continues: Under the guidance of this light we love, because
love follows the intellect. The greater the knowledge, the greater the
love, and the greater the love, the greater the knowledge. Thus the
one feeds the other.   If those who write about Raphael or
Michelangelo let nothing pass in the effort to exhaust their subject,
then surely we should neglect nothing that will enable us to probe
more deeply into the Gospel and really live by the holy mass.

The tongue is at a loss to recount the joy felt by him who goes on
this, the true road, for even in this life he participates in that
good which has been prepared for him in eternal life.   As St. Thomas
says: It is a certain commencement of eternal life.

This state of union is described in chapter 89, where it is
distinguished absolutely from the visions and revelations spoken of in
chapter 70. In this state are combined an experimental knowledge of
our own poverty and a quasi-experimental knowledge of God's infinite
goodness; they are, says the saint, like the lowest and the highest
points on a circle that will continue to expand until we enter heaven.
 This graceful image brings out clearly the intimate connection
between these two kinds of experimental knowledge, and shows the great
difference between them and that knowledge which is purely abstract
and speculative. We have here the very essence of the spiritual life.

In the same chapter we read:

Growing, and exercising herself in the light of self-knowledge, she
(the soul) conceives displeasure at herself and finally perfect
hatred, at the same time acquiring a true knowledge of My goodness,
and thereby being inflamed with love. She begins to unite herself to
Me, and to conform her will to Mine, and experiences a joy and a
compassion hitherto unknown. The joy she experiences is that of loving
Me;... at the same time she lovingly grieves at the offense committed
against Me, and at the loss of her fellow-creature.... She is in a
state of desolation at not being able to give glory as she would wish,
and in the agony of her desire she finds it delightful to satiate
herself at the table of the holy cross.

This brings us to the very center of the mystery of redemption.

The contemplation involved in this union with God distinctive of the
Christian life in its full perfection is evidently an infused
contemplation, for in chapters 60 and 61 we read:

If My servants are confused at the knowledge of their imperfection, if
they give themselves up to the love of virtue, if they dig up with
hatred the root of spiritual self-love... they will be so pleasing to
Me... that I will manifest Myself to them.... My charity is manifested
in two ways; first, in general, to ordinary people. The second mode of
manifestation... is peculiar to those who have become My friends....
When I reveal Myself to her it makes itself felt in the very depths of
the soul, by which such souls taste, know, prove and feel it.
Sometimes I even reveal Myself to the soul by arousing in her
sentiments of love, and endowing her with the spirit of prophecy.

But, as is evident from chapter 70, this last favor is no longer
normal but extraordinary.

Providential trials and union with God

Obviously the union with God we have been considering presupposes
mortification or active purification, which we must impose upon
ourselves in order to extinguish within us the concupiscence of the
flesh, the concupiscence of the eyes, and the pride of life. But, over
and above this, does it presuppose passive purifications or the
patient and generous acceptance of crosses?

Most certainly it does. Nothing could be more definite than St.
Catherine's teaching on this point when she speaks of temptation, of
the trials of the just, and of the different sorts of tears, which
must be carefully distinguished according as they proceed from the
love of self or from pure love.

When faced with temptation, the soul can always resist in virtue of
the merits of the blood of the Savior; God never commands the
impossible. These temptations, when they are resisted, bring a deeper
knowledge of ourselves and of God's goodness and strengthen us in
virtue.

Again, God sends trials to purify us from our failings and
imperfections, and to put us to the necessity of growing in His love
when there is no longer air to breathe but in Him.  The way the soul
welcomes these trials is the test of its perfection.  Then, after
shedding the unfruitful tears of self-love and those caused by servile
fear which dreads the punishment rather than the sin, the soul by
degrees comes to experience the tears of pure love. Thus in chapter 89
the saint tells us:

Inasmuch as she (the soul) has not yet arrived at great perfection,
she often sheds sensual tears, and if thou askest Me why, I reply:
because the root of self-love is not sensual love, for that has
already been removed (by mortification and the preliminary trials) ...
but it is a spiritual love with which the soul derives spiritual
consolations or loves some creature spiritually.... Therefore, when
such a soul is deprived of the thing she loves, that is, internal or
external consolation (the former coming from Me, the latter from the
creature) , and when temptations and the persecutions of men come on
her, her heart is full of grief. And, as soon as the eye feels the
grief and suffering of the heart, she begins to weep with a tender and
passionate sorrow, pitying herself with the spiritual compassion of
self-love.... But growing, and exercising herself in the light of
self-knowledge, she conceives displeasure at herself and finally
perfect self- hatred.... Immediately her eye... cries with hearty love
for Me and for her neighbor, grieving for the offense against Me and
her neighbor's loss.... Her heart is united to Me in love.... This is
the last stage in which the soul is blessed and sorrowful. Blessed she
is through the union which she feels herself to have with Me, tasting
the divine love; sorrowful through the offenses which she sees done to
My goodness and greatness, for she has seen and tasted the bitterness
of this in her self-knowledge, by which self-knowledge, together with
her knowledge of Me, she arrived at the final stage. Yet this sorrow
is no impediment to the unitive state.

We are reminded by it how our Lord's own afflictions were ever united
to a perfect peace, even on the cross.

The purifications leading up to this state of union are plainly those
same passive purifications which are treated of later on at such great
length by St. John of the Cross. In proof of this it will be
sufficient to read chapter 24: How God prunes the living branches
united to the stem in order to make them bear abundant fruit; chapter
43: Of the advantage of temptations; chapter 45: Who those are whom
the thorns germinated by the world do not harm; and finally chapter
20: How, without enduring trials with patience, it is impossible to
please God.

Conclusion: the general call

What conclusion are we to come to? The passages we have just quoted,
lead to the following conclusions: This union with God which normally
constitutes the full perfection of the Christian life is something
more than a purely active union, the result of our own personal
activity under the influence of grace; it is also a passive union, the
result of our docility to the Holy Ghost and the divine inspirations
we receive through His sevenfold gifts, and these again normally
increase with charity.

Thus the soul will normally arrive at the contemplative way in prayer,
in reading the Scriptures and in assisting at mass, contemplating ever
more profoundly the infinite value of the sacrifice of the altar,
which perpetuates in substance the sacrifice of the cross. It will
arrive also at the contemplative way of exercising the apostolate, in
which, far from losing its union with God, it will preserve that union
so that others may acquire it.

Is every interior soul called to this state of union? St. Catherine
gives the answer to this question when she explains, in chapter 53,
these words of our Lord: If any man thirst, let him come to Me and
drink.... Out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water" (John
7:37-38) . The Dialogue says:

You were all invited generally and in particular, by My Truth, My Son,
when, with ardent desire, He cried in the temple, saying: Whosoever
thirsteth, let him come to Me and drink. "  ... SO that you are
invited to the fountain of living water of grace, and you must come to
Me, therefore, through My Son, with perseverance, keeping by Him who
was made for you a bridge, not being turned back by any contrary wind
that may arise, either of prosperity or of adversity, and to persevere
until you find Me, who am the giver of the water of life, by means of
this sweet and amorous Word, My only begotten Son.... The first
condition required is for you to have thirst, because only those who
thirst are invited: "Whosoever thirsteth, let him come to Me and
drink. " He who has no thirst will not persevere, for fatigue causes
him to stop, persecution frightens him and no sooner does it begin to
assail him than he retreats. He is afraid because he is alone.... You
must then have thirst.... A man who is full of love and that of his
neighbor, suddenly finds himself the companion of many royal virtues.
Then the appetite of the soul is disposed to thirst. Thirst, I say,
for virtue, and the honor of My name and salvation of souls....
Wherefore then he follows on with anxious desire, thirsting after the
way of truth, in which he finds the fountain of the water of life,
quenching his thirst in Me, the ocean of peace.

St. Catherine expresses the same idea under another symbol in chapter
26, where the Father bids her pass over the bridge that binds earth to
heaven, which is none other than Christ, the way, the truth, and the
life. These pierced feet of the Savior are steps by which thou canst
arrive at His side, which manifests to thee the secret of His
heart.... Then the soul is filled with love, seeing herself so much
loved. Having passed the second step, the soul reaches out to the
third, that is, to the mouth, where she finds peace. "

Lastly, what is the sign by which we may recognize that the soul has
arrived at perfect love? The Lord explains this to Catherine from
chapter 74 to chapter 79:

It now remains to be told thee how it can be seen that souls have
arrived at perfect love. This is seen by the same sign that was given
to the holy disciples after they had received the Holy Spirit, when
they came forth from the house, and fearlessly announced the doctrine
of My Word, My only begotten Son, not fearing pain, but rather
glorying therein. Those who are enamored of My honor, and famished for
the food of souls, run to the table of the Holy Cross.

Their only ambition is to suffer and endure untold hardships in the
service of their neighbor. They run eagerly in the path of Christ r
crucified, for it is His doctrine they accept, and they slacken not
their pace on account of the persecutions, injuries, or pleasures of
the world. They pass by all these things with fortitude and tranquil
perseverance, their heart transformed by charity, tasting this
sweetness of this food of the salvation of souls and ready to endure
all things. This proves that the soul is in perfect love, loving
without consideration of self.... If these souls love themselves, they
do so for My sake, caring only for the praise and glory of My name....
In the midst of injuries it is patience that is resplendent, asserting
her royal prerogative.... Such as these do not feel any separation
from Me, whereas in the case of others, I come and go, not that I
withdraw from them My grace, but the feeling of My sensible presence.
I do not act thus to these most perfect ones who have arrived at a
very high degree of perfection and are entirely dead to their own
will, but I remain continually with them by My grace, giving them that
feeling of My sensible presence.

Here obviously we have the exercise of charity and the gift of wisdom,
each in an eminent degree, through which, St. Thomas says,  we are
given a quasi-experimental knowledge of God present within us. This,
surely, is the mystical life, the culminating point of the life of
grace as it normally develops and the prelude to the heavenly life.

Those acquainted with the spiritual teaching of St. Thomas will
realize how closely it agrees with the ascetic utterances of St.
Catherine of Siena. In our opinion they are the expression of the
traditional doctrine, which is content to lay stress on the right
points in the reading of the Gospels and Epistles. He that abideth in
charity abideth in God, and God in Him" (I John 4:16) ; His unction
teacheth you of all things" (ibid., 2:27) ; The Spirit Himself giveth
testimony to our spirit that we are the sons of God. And if sons,
heirs also; heirs indeed of God and joint heirs with Christ: yet so,
if we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified with Him (Rom. 8:
16- 17) ; For you are dead: and your life is hid with Christ in God.
When Christ shall appear, who is your life, then you also shall appear
with Him in glory (Col. 3:3-4) .

Have we forced the sense of these passages from the Dialogue? On the
contrary, it is better to acknowledge that they cannot be comprehended
fully. As Raphael was wont to say, to comprehend is to equal,  and to
grasp the full meaning of the passages quoted, the same spirit of
faith, the same exalted charity would be necessary as was possessed by
St. Catherine of Siena.

Such, according to this witness, is the way of perfection God has
traced out from all eternity in His providential plan to lead souls to
their final destiny. It is the way that leads to the fountain of
living water. If any man thirst, let him come to Me and drink.... Out
of his belly shall flow rivers of living water; He that shall drink of
the water that I will give him shall not thirst forever (John
7:37-38;4:13) .

PART V : PROVIDENCE, JUSTICE AND MERCY

25. PROVIDENCE AND DIVINE JUSTICE

Now that we have spoken of providence in itself and its attitude to
souls, we may suitably consider it in its relations with divine
justice and with divine mercy. As in us prudence is connected with
justice and the rest of the moral virtues, which it directs, so also
in God providence is united with justice and mercy, these being the
two great virtues of the love of God in our regard. Mercy has its
foundation in the sovereign good in so far as it is of itself
diffusive and tends to communicate itself externally. Justice, on the
other hand, is founded in the indefeasible right of the sovereign good
to be loved above all things.

These two virtues, says the psalmist, are found combined in all the
works of God: All the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth (Ps. 24:
10) . But, as St. Thomas remarks, Cf. St. Thomas,  in certain of the
divine works, as when God inflicts chastisement, justice stands out
the more prominently, whereas in others, in the justification or
conversion of sinners, for example, it is mercy that is more apparent.

This justice, which we attribute analogically to God, is not that
commutative justice which regulates mutual dealings between equals: we
cannot offer anything to God that does not belong to Him already. It
is a distributive justice, analogous to that which a father shows
toward his children or a good monarch toward his subjects. Thus, by
reason of this justice of His, God first of all sees to it that every
creature receives whatever is necessary for the attainment of its end.
Secondly, He rewards merit and metes out punishment to sin and vice,
especially if the sinner does not ask for mercy.

We shall do well to consider how providence directs the action of
justice (1) during the course of our earthly existence, (2) at the
moment of death, and (3) after death.

Providence and justice in the course of our earthly existence

Providence and justice combine in this present life to give us
whatever is necessary to reach our true destiny: that is, to enable us
to live an upright life, to know God in a supernatural way, to love
and to serve Him, and so obtain eternal life.

There is a great inequality, no doubt, in circumstances, natural and
supernatural, among men here on earth. Some are rich, others are poor;
some are possessed of great natural gifts, whereas others are of a
thankless disposition, weak in health, of a melancholy temperament.
But God never commands the impossible; no one is tempted beyond his
strength reinforced by the grace offered him. The savage of Central
Africa or Central America has received far less than we have; but if
he does what he can to follow the dictates of conscience, Providence
will lead him on from grace to grace and eventually to a happy death;
for him eternal life is possible of attainment. Jesus died for all
men, and among those who have the use of reason only those are
deprived of the grace necessary for salvation who by their resistance
reject it. Since He never commands the impossible, God offers to all
the means necessary for salvation.

Moreover, not infrequently providence and justice will make up for the
inequality in natural conditions by their distribution of supernatural
gifts. Often the poor man in his simplicity will be more pleasing to
God than the rich man, and will receive greater graces. Let us recall
the parable of the wicked rich man recorded in St. Luke (16: 19-31) :

There was a certain rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen
and feasted sumptuously every day. And there was a certain beggar
named Lazarus, who lay at his gate, full of sores, desiring to be
filled with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table. And no one
did give him: moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. And it came
to pass that the beggar died and was carried by the angels into
Abraham's bosom. And the rich man also died.... And lifting up his
eyes when he was in torments, he saw Abraham... and he cried and said:
Father Abraham, have mercy on me.... And Abraham said to him; Son,
remember that thou didst receive good things in thy lifetime, and
likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is comforted and thou art
tormented.

This is to declare in effect that, where natural conditions are
unequal, providence and justice will sometimes make up for it in the
distribution of natural gifts. Again, the Gospel beatitudes tell us
that one who is bereft of this world's enjoyments will in some cases
feel more powerfully drawn to the joys of the interior life. This is
what our Lord would have us understand when He says: Blessed are the
poor in spirit.... Blessed are the meek... that suffer persecution for
justice' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

The love of Jesus goes out to those servants of His nailed to the
cross, because then they are more like Him through the effective
oblation they make of their entire being for the salvation of sinners.
In them He continues to live; in them He may be said to prolong down
to the end of time His own prayers and sufferings, and above all His
love, for perfect love consists in the complete surrender of self.

For some there comes a time when every road in life is barred against
them; humanly speaking, the future holds out no prospect whatever to
them. In some cases this is the moment when the call comes to
something higher. Some there are who spend long years confined to a
bed of pain; for these henceforth there is no way open but the way of
holiness.

And so providence and justice, while giving to each one what is
strictly necessary, will often make up for any disparity in natural
conditions by the bestowal of grace. They reward us, even in this
life, for the merits we have gained, reminding us, too, of our solemn
duties by salutary warnings and well-deserved corrections, which are
no more than medicinal punishments for the purpose of bringing us back
into the right path. In this way will a mother correct her child if
she loves it with a really enlightened, ardent love. When these
salutary corrections are well received, we make expiation for our
sins, and God takes the opportunity of inspiring us with a more
sincere humility and a purer, stronger love. There is a sharp
distinction between souls according to their willingness or
unwillingness to listen to these warnings from God.

Providence and justice at the moment of death

As a general rule those who have paid heed during life to the warning
of God's justice and to the indefeasible right of the sovereign good
to be loved above all things are not taken unawares when death comes,
and in that supreme moment they find peace. Wholly otherwise is it
usually with those who have refused to give ear to the divine warnings
and who during life have confounded hope with presumption.

If there is one thing that is dependent on Providence, it is the hour
of our death. Be ye also ready, " says our Lord, for at what hour you
think not the Son of man will come (Luke 12: 40) . The same is true of
the manner of our death and the circumstances surrounding it. It is
all completely unknown to us; it rests upon Providence, in which we
must put all our trust, while preparing ourselves to die well by a
better life.

Looked at from the point of view of divine justice, what a vast
difference there is between the death of the just and that of the
sinner! In the Apocalypse (20: 6, 14) the death of the sinner is
called a second death,  for he is already spiritually dead to the life
of grace, and if the soul departs from the body in this condition it
will be deprived of that supernatural life forever. May God preserve
us from that second death. The unrepentant sinner, says St. Catherine,

is about to die in his injustice, and appear before the supreme Judge
with the light of faith extinguished in him, which he received burning
in holy baptism (but which he has blown out with the wind of pride)
and with the vanity of his heart, with which he sets his sails
unfurled to all the winds of flattery. Thus did he hasten down the
stream of the delights and dignities of the world at his own will,
giving in to the seductions of his weak flesh and the temptations of
the devil.

The remorse of conscience (which is not to be confused with
repentance) is then aroused with such lively feelings, that it gnaws
the very heart of the sinner, because he recognizes the truth of what
at first he knew not, and his error is the cause of great confusion to
him.... The devil torments him with infidelity in order to drive him
to despair.

What are we to say of this struggle which finds the sinner disarmed,
deprived of his living faith now extinguished in him, deprived also of
a steadfast hope, which he has failed to foster as he ought by
committing himself daily to God and laboring for Him? The wretched
sinner has placed all his hopes in himself, not realizing that
everything he possessed was but lent and must one day be accounted
for. He is deprived, too, of the flame of charity, of the love of God
which he has now utterly lost. He finds himself alone in his spiritual
nakedness, bereft of all virtue. Having turned a deaf ear to the many
warnings given during life, now, whichever way he turns, he sees
nothing but cause for confusion. Due consideration was not given to
divine justice during life; now it is the full weight of that justice
which makes itself felt, while the enemy of all good seeks to persuade
the sinner that for him henceforth there is no mercy. How we should
pray for those who are in their agony! If we do, then others will pray
for us when our last moment comes.

In those last moments mercy still accommodates itself to the sinner,
as it did to Judas when our Lord said at the last supper (Matt. 26:
24) : Woe to that man by whom the Son of man shall be betrayed. It
were better for him, if that man had not been born.  Our Lord has not
yet said who it is that is about to betray Him: He is too tender-
hearted to reveal it. And then, the Gospel continues, "Judas that
betrayed Him answering said: Is it I Rabbi? He saith to him: Thou hast
said it.  In delaying to put the question until the rest of the
Apostles had done so, Judas feigns innocence, as if that were possible
with one who even in this world reads the secrets of the heart.
Notice, says St. Thomas commenting on these words, with what
gentleness Jesus continues to call him friend and answers: "Thou hast
said it; as if to say, "It is you, not I, who say so, who are
revealing it.  Once again our Lord shows Himself full of compassion
and mercy, closing His eyes to the sins of men so as to give them one
more salutary warning and lead them to repentance. In Him are realized
those touching words of the Scripture: "The Lord is compassionate and
merciful (Ps. 102: 8) ; "overlooking the sins of men for the sake of
repentance (Wis. 11: 24) ; "Let the meek hear and rejoice (Ps. 33: 3)
.

In view of these final warnings from God, we may well ask how the
sinner dare accuse God of being a tyrant. No, it is the sinner who is
his own tyrant; it is the sinner who has no consideration for himself;
and none for God either, since he refuses Him the joy of applying to
him what He said of the prodigal: This my son was lost and is found
(Luke 15: 24) .

If the sinner will only disburden his conscience by a sincere
confession, making acts of faith, of confidence in God, and
contrition, at the last moment the divine mercy will enter in to
temper justice and will save him. By reason of God's mercy every man
may cling to hope at death if he so wills, if he offers no resistance.
Remorse will then give place to repentance.

Otherwise the soul succumbs to remorse and abandons itself to despair,
a sin far more heinous than any of the preceding, as in that neither
infirmity nor the allurements of sensuality can excuse, a sin by which
the sinner esteems his wickedness as outweighing God's divine mercy.
And once in this despair, the soul no longer grieves over sin as an
offense against God, it grieves only over its own miserable condition,
a grief very different from that which characterizes at