Guigo II’s Ladder of Monks

Bodleian Library MS Douce 322

HAPPILY, the practice of lectio divina has become more common amongst Catholics in the last 20 years. While lectio divina itself is very ancient, the most popular form consists of the four steps of lectio (reading), meditatio (meditation), oratio (prayer) and contemplatio (contemplation).  This form comes from the writings of the Carthusian, Guigo II (fl. c. 1170), 9th prior of the Grand Chartreuse monastery.

Guigo explains his method in a letter to a friend. The short (a little over 10 pages) letter is a spiritual masterpiece and deserves to be read entirely.  Perhaps due in part to copyright reasons, the excellent English translation of Colledge and Walsh is not freely available on the web.  Instead, people have reposted a few excerpts in various places.

Fortunately there’s another option.  A translation of Guigo’s letter into Middle English was made in the 14th century, the full title of which is A Ladder of Foure Ronges by the Which Men Mowe Clyme to Heven. Not only is it a good translation, but both the spiritual insight and literary skills of the anonymous author are formidable.  He or she also added about 20% new materiel in the form of explanations and quaint analogies that explain Guigo’s points better.  It is a very ‘poetic’ work, just as we find in the writings of other Middle English mystics like Richard Rolle, Walter Hilton and the anonymous Cloud of Unknowing author.

The complete transcription of the Middle English version made by James Hogg is also not freely available.  However on a website dedicated to Julian of Norwich is what appears to be a modernized version of Ladder of Foure Ronges.  It’s not a simple word-for-word modernization (which in this case I would personally prefer), however, and might actually be an amalgam of Guigo’s letter and the Middle English version.  In any case, it appears to include all of Guigo’s original content as well as the new material in Four Ronges.

To demonstrate the style of the Middle English version, here’s a paragraph where the anonymous author likens contemplation to a delicious and intoxicating rare wine and God to a savvy taverner:

So doth God Almyʒty to his loveris in contemplacion as a tauerner that good wyne hath to selle dooth to good drynkeris that wolle drynke wele of his wyne & largely spende. Wele he knowith what they be there he seeth hem in the strete. Pryvely he wendyth and rowndith hem in the eere & seyth to them that he hath a clarete, & that alle fyne for ther owyn mouth. He tollyth hem to howse & ʒevyth hem a taast. Sone whanno they haue tastyd therof and that they thynke the drynke good & gretly to ther plesauns, thann

they drynke dayly & nyʒtly,
and the more they drynke, the more they may.
Suche lykyng they haue of that drynke
that of none other wyne they thynke,
but oonly for to drynke their fylle
and to haue of this drynke alle their wylle.

And so they spende that they haue, and syth they spende or lene [pawn] to wedde surcote [coat] or hode [hood] & alle that they may for to drynke with lykyng whiles that them it good thynkith. Thus it faryth sumtyme by Goddis loveris that from the tyme that they hadde tastyd of this pyment, that is of the swettnesse of God, such lykyng þei founde theryn that as drunkyn men they did spende that they hadde, and ʒafe themself to fastyng and to wakyng & to other penauns [penance] doyng. And whann they hadde no more to spende they leyde their weddys, as apostelys, martyrys, & maydenys ʒounge of ʒeris dyd in their tyme (Source: Hodgson, 1949; p. 466)

In modern English the passage is:

So does God Almighty to his Lovers in contemplation like a taverner, who has good wine to sell, to good drinkers who will drink well of his wine and spend well. He knows them well when he sees them in the street. Quietly he goes to them and whispers in their ear and says to them that he has a claret, and of good taste in the mouth. He entices them to his house and gives them a taste. Soon when they have tasted of it and think the drink good and greatly to their pleasure, then

They drink all night, they drink all day;

And the more they drink, the more they may.

Such liking they have of that drink

That of none other wine they think,

But only for to drink their fill

And to have of this drink all their will.

And so they spend what they have, and then they sell or pawn their coat, their hood and all they may, for to drink with liking while they think it good.

Thus it fares sometimes with God’s lovers that from the time that they had tasted of this potion, that is, of the sweetness of God, such liking they found in it that as drunken men they spent what they had and gave themselves to fasting and to watching and to doing other penance. And when they had not more to spend they pledged their clothes, as apostles, martyrs, and young maidens did in their time.

Hodgson comments:

The Ladder of Four Rungs reads like original prose, expressive of the writer. It is not merely a clear reproduction of a Latin treatise in another tongue, but a distinct piece of creative writing. Sentence by sentence comparison with the Latin, far from blunting the edge of the translation, throws into more pointed emphasis its verve and originality.

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Bibliography

Anonymous.  The Ladder of Four Rungs, Guigo II on Contemplation.  Ultima website. umilta.net/ladder.html Accessed: 22 Nov. 2022.

Colledge, Edmund; Walsh, James (trs.). Guigo II: The Ladder of Monks and Twelve Meditations. Cistercian Studies 48. Kalamazoo, 1981. (= Image Books, 1978). [free e-borrow at arhive.org]

Hodgson, Phyllis. A Ladder of Foure Ronges by the Whiche Men mowe wele clyme to Heven. A study of the prose style of a Middle English translation. Modern Language Review 44.4, 1949, 465−475.

Hodgson, Phyllis. Deonise Hid Divinite and Other Treatises on Contemplative Prayer. Early English Text Society 231. Oxford University Press, 1955. Appendix B (pp. 100−117) is a transcription of Ladder of Foure Ronges.

Hogg, James (ed.). The Rewyll of Seynt Sauioure and A Ladder of Foure Ronges by the which Men Mowe Clyme to Heven. Edited from the MSS. Cambridge University Library Ff. 6. 33 and London Guildhall 25524, Volume 1. Salzburg, 2003.

Iguchi, Atsushi. Translating grace: the Scala Claustralium and A Ladder of Foure Ronges. Review of English Studies, vol. 59, no. 242, 2008, pp. 659–676.

McCann, Justin. (tr.) A Ladder of Four Rungs. London, 1926. (McCann rearranges the Middle English translation to follow the order of Guigo II’s original.)

McCann, Justin (ed.). A Ladder of Four Rungs, being a treatise on prayer by Dom Guy II, ninth prior of the Grande Chartreuse, in a Middle English Version. Stanforth Abbey, 1953.

Nau, Pascale-Dominique (tr.).  Guigo II: The Ladder of Monks. Lulu Press, 2013.

Wilmart, André. Auteurs spirituels et textes dévots du moyen âge latin: études d’histoire littéraire. Auteurs spirituels et textes devotes de moyen age latin. Paris, 1932.

Latin text

Guigonis Carthusiensis. Scala claustralium (Ladder of Monks). J. P. Migne Patrologia Latina 184 cols 475−484. Paris, 1854.

Manuscripts of Ladder of Foure Ronges

Cambridge, University Library, Ff.6.33

Bodleian Library MS Douce 322

British Museum MS Harley 1706

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St. Augustine: The Utility of Belief

Fra Angelicao, The Conversion of St. Augustine (c. 1430−1435)

DEAR Philonous, 

I had promised to deliver to you this week an explanation of St. Augustine’s lesser-known but valuable work, De utilitate credendi.  I was prepared today to write my summary, but now find my mind agitated by a change in weather (an unseasonably warm, ‘Santa-Ana’ like wind). Rather than abandon my plan completely, though, I’ll attempt to accommodate Fate (a tactic which, when employed, sometimes reveals Fate to be Providence). Thus, while I am no fan of stream-of-consciousness style writing — but ,rather, tend to the oppose extreme of obsessive perfectionism — I will allow myself to experiment with the former this time.

Here, then, are a series of thoughts I had during today’s walk. I will write these directly, without adding substantially to them, however great the temptation may be to do so.  Hopefully posting these brief comments will help motivate a few people to read the work, so that Augustine can explain his points better than I can.

Augustine in this short book addresses those who are at point in their life where they genuinely seek wisdom and true religion.  He is not interested in those for whom these topics are mere curiosities or diversions.

Adapting his thesis to a modern audience, it is: That people — at least those in the West — should not avoid investigating Christianity.  This investigation may be done in an experimental way:  that is, one may test the waters, so to speak, without making any immediate and permanent commitment. However this initial experiment must be done in a sincere and ‘charitable’ way. By charitable, it is meant that a person should, in case of questionable teachings or, say, puzzling passages of the Bible, be inclined to give the ‘benefit of the doubt.’

Central to his argument is the premise that a person sincerely seeking wisdom and religion recognizes that they are subject to the delusions, follies and vanities of life, and that their own reasoning is subject to corruption by egoism, bias, self-love, and the like.  Not only does this make it difficult to understand true religion without help, but it means one has little ability to distinguish true from false teachers. Therefore it is both prudent and reasonable to seek first sources with good reputations.  Augustine speaks in terms of ‘authoritative sources’ here — but he does not mean by authority that of a policeman or dictator, but rather authority in the sense of having genuine expertise.

What are the signs of a such an authoritative source. He lists several that apply to the Christian Church (broadly defined):

• It’s longevity.
• It’s wide respect and admiration.
• The benevolent actions and intentions of its saints and doctors.
• The courage and determination of its martyrs.

He also lists as potentially relevant evidence miracles.  Modern readers may not accept that part of his argument, but it isn’t really necessary.

Augustine notes that the objection that most Christians themselves lack wisdom and virtue does not affect this argument. In any field of respectable endeavor, only a few gain mastery, yet all respect the field and admire those who do gain mastery. That the ideals of Christianity appeal to the masses, even if they are seldom achieved, is what matters here. It is evidence that Christianity genuinely responds to deep needs of the human condition and resonates with our highest innate ideals.

He also invites us to consider the parallels with authors like Virgil. All people respect these authors and those who study them.  Yet only a minority of people actually read them, and fewer still are able to grasp the fine points of their writings.

In this connection Augustine mentions another interesting and revealing point. If someone were to summarily dismiss Virgil or Homer, or read them with the specific intention of finding fault with them, we would consider that person worthy of blame.  That is, some instinct we have to honor trust sources of antiquity would be outraged.  Augustine does not pursue this point as far as he could, but it is anticipated at some length in the writings of Cicero (one of Augustine’s influences).  Ultimately this argument has roots before Cicero in Stoic philosophy. Human beings are social, communal creatures.  We are designed by nature, as it were, to honor valid traditions.  Those who do not do so — at least not without some good reason — are instinctively disapproved of; and, while perhaps not all instincts are trustworthy or constructive, this one may well be so.

Hence his argument might be succinctly framed as follows:

1. If we are sincerely, urgently, fervently seeking wisdom and religion, we must know that our reasoning and judgment are prone to bias and error.
2. Therefore we cannot attain wisdom and religion by our own reasoning alone.
3. We cannot find a good teacher by relying only on our reasoning.
4. We have little choice, then, but to experiment by investigating the teachings of a trusted, reputable source.
5. To profit from this source, we must approach the teachings charitably — that is, in an experimental way that basically says, “Okay, I’ll go along for now and see where this leads. If insight soon follows, the experiment will be successful. If not, then I will withhold further belief.”
6. That is what we might call experimental credence. It is very different from credulousness or gullibility, things Augustine in no way endorses or advocates.
7. To approach things this way is eminently reasonable. This is what he meant by faith (credence) seeking understanding. This is, in fact, far more reasonable than insisting on radical rationalism at the outset — that is requiring that each article of religion be given a fully rational argument before it is taken seriously.

Augustine is in no way here suggesting that we should just bow down to authoritarian dogma.  That would be insincere and affected.  He does not ask us to be insincere.  Rather, this is about adopting a kind of provisional belief.  Just as when we cross a street, we do not know a car will not come from around a corner and hit us.  We proceed with the ‘faith’ that crossing will be safe.  However we do not commit ourselves to this fixed belief, but remain attentive and ready to change our belief if circumstances so dictate. What he is calling credence is, then, somewhat like a “working hypothesis.”

While he does not say so explicitly, the implication is that we have a natural impulse to believe Christianity (or comparable trusted sources.)  Hence here we are not imposing on ourselves an arbitrary and artificial belief, but rather are permitting ourselves to accede to a natural impulse to provisionally believe.

Finally, although it may be difficult to find a reliable contemporary person to teach Christianity, we have access to the Bible.  We should apply ourselves to its study in the aforementioned spirit of trust and charity, asking such questions as how might this passage apply to my life? or how might I interpret these words in a useful, meaningful and wise way?— and not how may I ridicule or find fault with it? Augustine took it as axiomatic that much of the Bible’s message (especially in the Old Testament) is conveyed by means of allegory.  Passages which seem morally objectionable if taken literally assist us by forcing us to look for symbolic meanings. Having sometimes to struggle to find deeper meanings is consistent with the role of religion in helping us to reform and improve our thinking.

Augustine also places great emphasis on the fact that Christian teaching is open, public, and available to all without charge.  This contrasts with the secrecy of esoteric texts and elite ‘schools’ which promise to deliver subtle wisdom for the right price. Why seek religion at all if we do not believe God is both generous and actively seeks to assist our endeavors?  What could be more evidence of such benevolence and wisdom than by entrusting the teaching of divine truths to an institution like the Christian Church?

Then what are the messages the seeker may hope to find from the Bible?  I would propose to classify these under three headings. (These are my view, that is, and not anything Augustine says directly in the work.)

The first is moral reformation and purification, and the gaining of intellectual and moral virtue.  (This is similar to Stoicism.)

The second is instruction in contemplative ascent of the mind (anagogy; this is similar to Platonism).

Third (this goes beyond Stoicism and Platonism) is achievement of loving union with God and the theological virtues of Faith, Hope, and, above all, Charity.

Of course nothing I’ve said here should be understood to dissuade the study of other traditional religions, including Hinduism, Buddhism, Judaism and Islam — or, for that matter, ancient religious and philosophical traditions like Neoplatonism and Hermeticism. At least one source I’ve seen claimed that Augustine himself continued to read Plotinus all his life. Augustine’s main objection to the Manicheans was not so much their wrong doctrines, but that (1) they maligned Christianity and (2) they insisted that rationalism alone is sufficient in religion.

John

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Bibliography

English translations

Burleigh, J. H. S. (tr.). St. Augustine: The Usefulness of Belief (De Utitlitate Credendi). In: J. H. S. Burleigh (ed.), Augustine: Earlier Writings, SCM Press, 1953 (repr. Knox, 2006); pp. 284−323.

Cornish, C. L. (tr). St. Augustine: On the Profit of Believing.  In: Philip Schaff (ed.), Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, Vol. 3, Buffalo, 1887.

Kearney, Ray (tr.). Saint Augustine: The Advantage of Believing (De utilitate credendi). In: Boniface Ramsey (ed.), The Works of Saint Augustine: A Translation for the 21st Century, vol. I/8, (On Christian Belief), New City Press, 2005; pp. 116−150.

Meagher, Luanne (tr.). St.Augustine: The Advantage of Believing (De utilitate credendi). In: Ludwig Schopp (ed.), Fathers of the Church, Vol. 4 (Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. 2), New York, 1947; pp. 385−442.

Marriott, Charles (tr.). On the Profit of Believing. In: John Henry Parker (ed.), Seventeen Short Treatises of S. Augustine, Oxford, 1847/1869/1885; pp. 577−618.

Latin editions

Migne J. P. (ed.). Augustinus Hipponensis: De utilitate credendi. Patrologia Latina 42, 65−92. Paris, 1841

Pegon, J. (ed. & tr.). De utilitate credendi. In: Oeuvres de Saint Augustin, 1re série, Opuscules, volume VIII. Bibliothèque Augustinienne (BA) 17, Paris, Desclée de Brouwer, 1951.

Zycha, Joseph (ed.).  S. Aureli Augustini: De utilitate credendi. Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum (CSEL) 25.1. Vienna, 1866.

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Active Imagination and the Mysteries of the Rosary

Artist unkown: The Annunciation

LET’S continue the topic of experimenting with meditation on the Rosary Mysteries as tools for personal growth — spiritual, psychological and philosophical. To repeat in brief what I’ve said before, the guiding premise is that the ‘author’ of the Rosary Mysteries is the collective unconscious. They represent a cumulative attempt, crafted and refined by countless inspired individuals, to express in symbolic form stages or components of ones spiritual self-realization.  They are therefore of universal value.  One need not be a practicing Roman Catholic to benefit from them.  They concern universal and (what a follower of Jungian psychology would call) archetypal principles of the human psyche.

There is a standard formula by which Roman Catholics consider these mysteries while praying the Rosary.  However one is entirely free to experiment and improvise, and there are advantages with this. In particular, one might apply the Jungian technique of active imagination to this task — for example, by looking at artistic portrayals of these Gospel events — and creatively ‘engaging’ with them.  Almost the whole point of active imagination is spontaneity.  Nevertheless, another element of Jungian psychology can be used profitably here, namely his well-known distinction between four kinds of cognitive activity: sensing, thinking, feeling and intuiting.  (These of course are the four personality dimension of the Meyers-Briggs inventory).

Elsewhere I’ve related what was explained to me by a retreat director years ago — how these four cognitive activities can be used in connection with the traditional practice of lectio divina (holy reading) for interpreting Scripture. As understanding the complex messages of art is much like interpreting Scripture, it’s plausible to apply this approach to the former.

Accordingly, this works as follows.  Quiet your mind, and arrange time to devote to studying some work of art that portrays one of the Sorrowful, Joyful, Glorious or Luminous Rosary Mysteries.  In succession, spend some amount of time considering it exclusively by each cognitive function:

Sensing.  Examine the literal details without analyzing them.  Notice every important object and detail.  Scan the entire image so nothing is missed.  Notice shapes, colors, shadings, arrangement of figures, foreground and background, etc.

Thinking.  Now think about the objects in the painting.  Don’t force things or be overly analytical; in fact, more of a playful approach might be most appropriate.  For example, applying this process to interpret Scripture, one technique is to make puns or find alternative, varied meanings — however implausible — in the actual words.  Something similar might be done here.  The idea is not to form any definite conclusions, but rather to activate and exercise the rational faculty.

Feeling.  Here again, one should feel free to experiment. How does the art make you feel? One possibility is to cycle through the characters portrayed, and to imagine what that figure is feeling towards each of the others — or try to have the same feeling yourself.

Intuiting. Pause, take a breath, close your eyes.  Put yourself in the loving ‘shalom’ of God’s presence.  Now open your eyes and let the picture speak to you.  Imagine, if you like, it speaking directly to your heart, without specific words, giving intuitions and insights.

This is enough to say.  Of necessity this should be a completely personal method, and each person will need to discover what works best for them.  I would just encourage you to make the experiment.  Regardless of ones religious affiliation, these Mysteries and their associated art are a great cultural resource available to help your process of self-realization.

As for the picture above, I don’t know it’s source, but it is a rather unusual representation of the Annunciation.  What I like about it is that it –somewhat uniquely — focuses on Mary experiencing an ecstasy.  As such, it can be interpreted as an allegory for deep religious contemplation — as, perhaps, do the other Joyful Mysteries (and Sorrowful, Glorious and Luminous Mysteries).

 

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Revisiting the Rosary Mysteries

The Coronation of the Virgin, El Greco (Prado)

DURING the Covid pandemic, I’ve been giving thought about the positive purpose of trials in life. Here my interests in Christianity and Stoicism coincide. The Stoics, like Christians, placed great emphasis on reconciling what seem to be bad events with an all providential God.

As a psychologist also, I can easily believe that trials and pain are vital for our psychological and spiritual maturation, and for the growth, expansion or development of new forms of consciousness. “Suffer and learn,” as Aeschylus wrote.  This is expressed in the ancient Greek adage, pathe mathe (suffering teaches).  Interpreted psychologically, the crucifixion, death and resurrection of Christ (in addition to whatever metaphysical meanings these may have) seem to relate to this principle. With that in mind, I was recently thinking about the meanings of the five Sorrowful Mysteries of the Catholic Rosary; and from there I went on to consider the possible meanings of the three other sets of Rosary Mysteries (Glorious, Joyful and Luminous).

The practice of ‘saying a rosary’ consists basically of praying five sets of 10 (a “decade”) Hail Mary’s; at the beginning of each decade one meditates on one Mystery. On a given day, one would select the Sorrowful, Glorious, Joyful or Luminous Mysteries for meditation. The Mysteries within each set are meditated upon in a precise order, suggesting they may constitute steps in a gradual process of mental and spiritual ascent. (Clearly, mental ascent is a main function of any spiritual exercise).

As an example, we may consider the Glorious Mysteries.  I will leave my comments here only at the level of conjecture, partly because these are things that each person must explore individually. Here, then, is how one might interpret them in a psychological sense.

The Resurrection. Traditional sources associate this Rosary Mystery as the awakening of new Faith. That is, in the state of spiritual sleep that is our usual, fallen state of consciousness (carnal mindedness) something happens to remind us that we *are* fallen, and that a higher state of consciousness is possible.

The Ascension. Again, some traditional sources associate this with the yearning to ascend. That was be a natural second step once one realizes one is indeed mentally fallen.

The Pentecost. But in order to rise, we must avoid making the cardinal mistake of trying to do so by our own efforts alone. Rather we must be attentive to some gift or gifts of the Holy Spirit (like charity, piety, humility, patience, inspired insight, etc.) that prompt, direct and enable our ascent.

The Assumption of the Virgin and Mary is Crowned Queen of Heaven and Earth. For now I would propose to consider these, which seem richly laden with psychological meanings, jointly. Official Christian doctrine has a very ‘male’ view of God. Popular devotion to the Virgin serves to express the human need to likewise acknowledge the divine feminine. The Assumption and Coronation could be understood as symbolizing a sort of union between the heavenly divine and material Nature. Psychologically this union would be very important as a means by which we may reconcile our Eternal nature with our life as practical human beings in the here-and-now physical world. If Mary is Queen of Heaven the Earth, it means the natural world is infused with the Divine. This union would also mean our instinctive, emotional love of Nature and our spiritual love of God could coincide.

Admittedly this mere outline leaves many questions unanswered. However my goal is not to come up with definitive answers here, but rather to suggest that praying the Rosary and meditating on the Mysteries is still very much a relevant practice that modern Catholics might consider re-introducing into their spiritual practice.

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The Great Prayer of St. Augustine

Art: Unknown.

BETWEEN the time of his conversion and his baptism, St. Augustine retired with his family and friends to a villa in Casciago in the beautiful lake region north of Milan. There he wrote several dialogues in the manner of Cicero, including the Soliloquies. Years later Augustine described his conversion in the Confessions, but here we have, as it were, a direct window into his mind at this important period of his life. The Soliloquies opens with an inspired and impassioned prayer — full of phrases from the Neoplatonist Plotinus and the Bible.

While I was turning over in my mind many and divers matters, searching ceaselessly and intently through many a day for my very own self and my good, and what evil should be avoided, all at once a voice spoke to me— whether it was myself or another inside or outside of me I do not know, for that is the very thing I am endeavoring to find out. Reason thereupon spoke to me as follows:

Reason. Now then, suppose you had discovered something, to what would you consign it, in order that you might proceed to other matters?

Augustine. To memory, of course.

R. Is memory of such virtue that it well preserves all that has been thought out?

A. That is difficult; in fact, it is impossible.

R. It must be written down, then. But, what are you going to do now that your poor health shirks the task of writing? These matters ought not to be dictated, for they demand real solitude.

A. You speak the truth. Wherefore, I really do not know what I am to do.

2.
O God, the Founder of the Universe, grant me first of all that I may fittingly supplicate Thee; next, that I may so act that I may be worthy of a hearing from Thee; finally, I beg Thee to set me free.
O God, through whom all those things, which of themselves would not exist, strive to be.
O God, who dost not permit to perish even that which is self-destructive.
O God, who from nothing hast created this world which every eye sees to be most beautiful.
O God, who dost not cause evil, and who dost cause that it become not most evil.
O God, who, to those few who have their refuge in that which truly is, dost show that evil is nothing.
O God, through whom the universe, even with its sinister side, is perfect.
O God, by whose ordinance the uttermost discord is as naught, since the less perfect things are in harmony with the more perfect.’
O God, whom everything loves which is capable of loving whether knowingly or unknowingly.
O God, in whom are all things—and yet the shamefulness of every creature does not shame Thee, their wickedness does not harm Thee, nor docs their error deceive Thee.
O God, who hast not willed that any save the pure should know the True.
O God, the Father of Truth, the Father of Wisdom, Father of True and Supreme Life, Father of Happiness, Father of the Good and the Beautiful, Father of Intelligible Light, Father of our watching and our enlightenment, Father of the covenant by which we are admonished to return to Thee.

3.
I call upon Thee, O God the Truth, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are true which are true.
O God, Wisdom, in whom and by whom and through whom all those are wise who are wise.
O God, True and Supreme Life, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things live which truly and perfectly live.
O God, Happiness, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are happy which are happy.
O God, the Good and the Beautiful, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things are good and beautiful which are good and beautiful.
O God, Intelligible Light, in whom and by whom and through whom all those things which have intelligible light have their intelligible light.
O God, whose domain is the whole world unknown to sense.
O God, from whose realm law is promulgated even in these regions.
O God, from whom to turn away is to fall, to whom to turn is to rise again, in whom to abide is to stand firm.
O God, from whom to depart is to die, to whom to return is to be revived, in whom to dwell is to live.
O God, whom no one loses unless deceived, whom no one seeks unless admonished, whom no one finds unless he is purified.
O God, whom to abandon is to perish, whom to heed is to love, whom to see is to possess.
O God, to whom Faith moves us, Hope raises us, Charity unites us.
O God, through whom we overcome the enemy, Thee do I pray.
O God, through whom we obtain that we do not altogether perish.
O God, by whom we are admonished to be ever watchful.
O God, through whom we discern the good from the evil.
O God, through whom we flee evil and follow after good.
O God, through whom we are not overcome by afflictions.
O God, through whom we fittingly serve and fittingly rule.
O God, through whom we learn that that is alien to us which once we thought was meet for us, and that is meet which we used to think was alien.
O God, through whom we cling not to the charms and lures of evil.
O God, through whom deprivations do not abase us.
O God, through whom what is better in us is not under the dominion of our lower self.
O God, through whom death is swallowed up in victory.
O God, who dost convert us, stripping us of that which is not and clothing us with that which Is.
O God, who makest us worthy to be heard.
O God, who strengthenest us; who leadest us into all truth.
O God, who speakest to us of all good things; who dost not drive us out of our mind, nor permittest that anyone else do so.
O God, who callest us back to the way; who leadest us to the gate; who grantest that it is opened to those who knock.
O God, who givest us the bread of life.
O God, through whom we thirst for the cup, which when it is drunk we shall thirst no more.
O God, who dost convince the world of sin, of justice, and of judgment.
O God, through whom we are not shaken by those who have no faith.
O God, through whom we denounce the error of those who think that the merits of souls are naught before Thee.
O God, through whom we do not serve weak and beggarly elements.
O God, who dost cleanse us, who dost make us ready for divine rewards, graciously come to me.

4.
Whatever I have said, come to my aid, Thou, the one God, the one, eternal, true substance in whom there is no strife, no disorder, no change, no need, no death; where there is supreme harmony, supreme clarity, supreme permanence, supreme fullness, supreme life; where there is no deficiency and no excess; where the One begetting and the One begotten is One.
O God, who art served by all things which serve, who art obeyed by every good soul.
O God, by whose laws the poles revolve, the stars follow their courses, the sun rules the day, and the moon presides over the night; and all the world maintains, as far as this world of sense allows, the wondrous stability of things by means of the orders and recurrences of seasons: through the days by the changing of light and darkness, through the months by the moon’s progressions and declines, through the years by the successions of spring, summer, autumn, and winter, through the cycles by the completion of the sun’s course, through the great eras of time by the return of the stars to their starting points.
O God, by whose ever-enduring laws the varying movement of movable things is not suffered to be disturbed, and is always restored to a relative stability by the controls of the encompassing ages.
O God, by whose laws the choice of the soul is free, and rewards to the good and chastisements to the wicked are meted out in accord with inexorable and universal destiny.
O God, from whom all good things flow even unto us, and by whom all evil things are kept away from us.
O God, above whom, beyond whom, and without whom nothing exists.
O God, under whom everything is, in whom everything is, with whom everything is.
O God, who hast made man to Thine image and likeness, a fact which he acknowledges who knows himself.
Hear, hear, O hear me, my God, my Lord, my King, my Father, my Cause, my Hope, my Wealth, my Honor, my Home, my Native Land, my Salvation, my Light, my Life.
Hear, hear, O hear me, in that way of Thine well known to a select few.

5.
Thee alone do I love; Thee alone do I follow; Thee alone do I seek; Thee alone am I ready to serve, for Thou alone hast just dominion; under Thy sway do I long to be.
Order, I beg Thee, and command what Thou wilt, but heal and open my ears, so that with them I may hear Thy words.
Heal and open my eyes so that with them I may perceive Thy wishes.
Banish from me my senselessness, so that I may know Thee.
Tell me where I should turn that I may behold Thee; and I hope I shall do all Thou hast commanded me.
Look, I beseech Thee, upon Thy prodigal, O Lord, kindest Father; already have I been punished enough; long enough have I served Thine enemies whom Thou hast beneath Thy feet; long enough have I been the plaything of deceits. Receive me Thy servant as I flee from them, for they took me in a stranger when I was fleeing from Thee.
I realize I must return to Thee. Let Thy door be open to my knocking. Teach me how to come to Thee. Nothing else do I have but willingness. Naught else do I know save that fleeting and perishable things are to be spurned, certain and eternal things to be sought after. This I do, O Father, because this is all I know, but how I am to reach Thee I know not.
Do Thou inspire me, show me, give me what I need for my journey.
If it is by faith that they find Thee who have recourse to Thee, give me faith; if it is through virtue, give me virtue; if it is by knowledge, give knowledge to me. Grant me increase of faith, of hope, and of charity. O how marvelous and extraordinary is Thy goodness.

6.
To Thee do I appeal, and once more I beg of Thee the very means by which appeal is made to Thee. For, if Thou shouldst abandon us, we are lost; but Thou dost not abandon us, because Thou art the Supreme Good whom no one ever rightly sought and entirely failed to find. And, indeed, every one hast rightly sought Thee whom Thou hast enabled to seek Thee aright. Grant that I may seek Thee, my Father; save me from error. When I seek Thee, let me not find aught else but Thee, I beseech Thee, Father. But, if there is in me any vain desire, do Thou Thyself cleanse me and make me fit to look upon Thee.

With regard to the health of this my mortal body, so long as I am ignorant of its usefulness to me or to those whom I love, I entrust it to Thee, O wisest and best of Fathers, and I shall pray for it as Thou shalt in good time advise me. This only I shall ask of Thine extreme kindness, that Thou convertest me wholly to Thee, and that Thou allowest nothing to prevent me when I wend my way to Thee. I beg Thee to command, while I move and bear this my body, that I may be pure, generous, just, and prudent; that I may be a perfect lover and knower of Thy Wisdom; that I may be worthy of Thy dwelling place, and that I may in fact dwell in Thy most blessed kingdom. Amen. Amen.  (Source: Soliloquies 1.1−6; Migne PL 32 cols 869−872; tr. Gilligan pp. 343−350).

Bibliography

Augustini Hipponensis. Soliloquia (Soliloquiorum libri II). Migne Patrologia Latina vol. 32, cols. 869−904, Paris, 1841. Latin text.

Gilligan, Thomas F. St. Augustine: Soliloquies. In: Schopp, Ludwig (ed), Writings of St. Augustine, Vol. 1.  (Fathers of the Church, Vol. 5). CUA Press, 1947 (repr. 2008); pp. 333−426. English translation.

On the Praying for Others’ Forgiveness in the Catholic Mass

Why the Confiteor is one of the most beautiful and important parts of the Mass

The section of the Roman Catholic Mass called the Penitential Rite is insufficiently appreciated. This part contains, among other things, the prayer known as the Confiteor. Its name comes from the first line, which, in Latin, is Confiteor Deo omnipotente…, in English translated as “I confess to Almighty God….” The Confiteor is the source of the phrase, mea culpa (mea culpa, mea culpa, me maxima culpa — i.e., one confesses that one has sinned “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”

A special virtue of this section of the Liturgy is that it is an opportunity for members of the Church to pray for one another. When I was younger, I understood the Confiteor, along with the Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison (Lord have mercy! Christ have mercy!) which comes later, as being mainly concerned with seeking forgiveness for ones own sins. But with age comes a growth in instinctive concern for others; you look around and see what difficulties and burdens others bear, and, if you have a heart, you naturally want them to be helped. As this charitable concern develops, the Mass takes on new meaning and importance.

Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained. (John 20:23)

Just think of what the verse above implies. Look at the suffering and the burdens others bear — whether those be their sins, or the consequences of those sins, or the guilt and shame their sins produce. And then consider the possibility that you may be an agent in removing those burdens and effecting their healing. Have you never noticed how real benefits may come to others as the result of your prayers? What if no-one else on the entire the planet is praying for these individuals? That may easily be the case! Can you not bring yourself — indeed, can you not resist the compassionate urge — to pray for them?

To give a personal example, suppose I’m at Mass and I see people in the congregation with serious obesity problems; these days, I’m afraid, that’s an all too common experience. Now God has given me the gift of physical fitness and a strong personal motivation to exercise. This is a grace not everyone has. It is a blessing, and I’m extremely grateful for it. But I have been overweight before, and therefore know that these people suffer very much because of obesity. It’s perfectly natural, then, for me to pray for them.

Now it might be objected, “Aren’t you being judgmental here? On what basis are you apparently equating their health issues with sin?” The answer is that I’m taking a very broad view of sin; it might be better to call the issue here moral imperfection, or even an insufficiency of moral strength. We need to strip ‘sin’ of its judgmental connotations in any case. The original Greek word for sin is hamartia, which means ‘missing the mark.’ It’s appropriate, then, to see the alleviation of obesity, depression, substance abuse, or many other things people suffer from as subjects of prayer in the Penitential Rite.

It is of some interest to note changes in the liturgy apropos of this. Before the reforms of the 1960’s and 70’s, the Mass was, of course, still said in Latin. People may not remember this detail, but in the traditional Tridentine Mass the Confiteor was actually prayed twice. First the priest recited it to the assistant(s) or altar servers, confessing his sinfulness and pleading for the intercession of “Mary ever Virgin, blessed Michael the Archangel, blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul” and “all the Saints.” In conclusion he further asked, “you brethren, to pray to the Lord our God for me.”

In response, the assistant(s) — representing the entire congregation — prayed,

May Almighty God have mercy upon you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to life everlasting.

To which the priest said, “Amen.”

Then the assistant(s) recited the Confiteor, changing only the last phrase by asking “you Father, to pray to the Lord our God for me.” The priest then prayed the same response as the assistant(s) had to his Confiteor, to which the latter responded, “Amen.” Then the priest, making the sign of the cross, prayed:

May the Almighty and merciful God grant us pardon, absolution, and remission of our sins.

To which the server(s) replied, “Amen.”

This detail actually signifies something momentous: that the priest and congregation, symbolized by the assistant(s), are praying, interceding with God, for each other’s forgiveness.

The present form of the Roman Catholic Mass includes only one Confiteor, said jointly by the priest and congregation. In theory, nothing has changed spiritually: all are praying both for themselves and for each other. But the present liturgy leaves this more ambiguous. If not instructed in the matter, people may misunderstand, and think they are only praying for their own forgiveness.

At one level, it’s perfectly understandable and ordinary for people to be so intent on confessing their own sins and seeking forgiveness that the reciprocity of the Confiteor escapes attention. Yet Christians in this respect are called on to be more than ordinary. They are called to be priests, a priestly people (1 Peter 2:5–10; cf. Exodus 19:6); and one vital function of a priest is to intercede with God for the welfare of others.

Moreover, an exclusively self-oriented confessional attitude fails to recognize a fundamental principle of the psychology of forgiveness, a detail to which Scripture pointedly calls our attention: that forgiving others and being forgiven ourselves are so integrally related as to literally be two aspects of the same thing. Let us recall some relevant passages:

Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. (James 5:16)

For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you:But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. (Matthew 6: 14–15)

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. (Matthew 5:7)

Note that we are not just called to forgive those who have trespassed against us, but also those sins others commit that might not involve us at all.

Sometimes we might think that the connection between forgiving and forgiveness is merely a kind of reciprocal justice: if we forgive, then we’ve done a good deed, and our reward is to be forgiven in exactly the same degree. But the connection is actually much stronger. In a sense, our holding onto grudges, or even just a ‘stinginess’ in wishing forgiveness for anyone, automatically carries with it a burden of moral imperfection, if not outright sin. Said another way, the moment we earnestly pray for others’ forgiveness — not just those who have harmed us, but those who need forgiveness in any way and for any reason — we ourselves come into right relation to God and with ourselves. And whatever burdens we have imposed on ourselves by being out of right relation are removed.

This shouldn’t be taken to imply that an awareness of our own sinfulness isn’t terribly important. Quite the opposite: the more cognizant we are of our need for forgiveness, the more enthusiastic and willing we are to forgive others, as this is a small price to pay indeed. If we fully understood this principle, we would beg and thank God for the opportunity to forgive others!

Perhaps at this point some will expect me to suggest that we should restore the Tridentine Mass, but that is by no means my point. In fact, I think the liturgical changes have been, in the main, for the better. It seems sufficient for the Confiteor to be said once — provided that people are aware of all that’s going on. I believe it proper to say that the main focus of ones prayer here should be for others’ forgiveness. That is the object of our prayer. The action of our praying for others is itself implicitly the prayer for our own forgiveness — so that both needs are being met at the same time.

I do believe, however, that, with the present liturgy, special attention needs to be given to instruct people about the dual nature of the Penitential Rite. Further, some things I’ve read online seem to suggest that in certain diocese and/or at certain times, the Confiteor is omitted from masses. If so, then it seems to me very important that whatever is used in its place emphasize and encourage the dual aspect of praying for forgiveness.

I wrote at the outset that this is something momentous, but have yet to fully explain why. Consider this principle of each forgiving another — of striving to do this oneself, and of coming to regularly expect that others approach you in the same way — carried to its logical extreme. That is, imagine a society where this principle became conventional, usual, regular. In that case the whole orientation of the individual towards others and society in general would be transformed, and for the better. Inasmuch as the ability to heal by forgiving is natural, and human beings are naturally social and gregarious, then an ambient recognition of this principle would amount to a revolution in human consciousness, individual and social. We would achieve in practice what is yet only latent and dormant in our collective potential.  We would change as a species.

 

Catholicism and Transcendentalism: The Christian Consciousness

The important 1967 encyclical of Pope Paul VI, Populorum progressio (On the development of peoples) called for, among other things, a new transcendental humanism (§16, §20). In May 2011, Pope Benedict XVI, addressing the faculty of the Catholic University of the Sacred Heart, renewed the call for “a new, integral and transcendent humanism.”

Precisely such a transcendental humanism can be found articulated with great depth, insight, and beauty in the literature of the 19th century American Transcendentalists and Unitarians, many of whom were Christian. I believe that modern Roman Catholics would do well to examine this literature.  It is a treasure-trove of ideas and inspiration, and the ‘old religion’ expressed in a form uniquely suited to the American mind.

As an example, below are excerpts from an 1859 discourse by Octavius B. Frothingham, ‘The Christian Consciousness, Its Elements and Expression’.  (O. B. Frothingham, Christian Consciousness. Philadelphia, 1859; pp. 3—33).

* * * *

I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit. (John 15:5a)

“HAVE you ever fairly mastered this thought: That once upon a time, eighteen hundred years ago, what we call Christianity was all gathered up in the person of a single man, who lived and breathed like other men, in the far-off land of Judea, — when Christ was Christianity, and all the Christianity there was on earth? … In that remote corner of the earth, Jesus of Nazareth stands alone, uncomprehended by the few who love him, despised or feared by the few who love him not, unheeded by the many who see in him nothing by which he can be distinguished from common humanity; solitary in person, and solitary in spirit, having little in common with his generation; solitary, with his great Religion folded in the secret place of his own heart. The mighty Truths which the world hail as revelations and build up into confessions, are his private thoughts. The creative forces which have wrought such moral results, and even something like a transformation in the sentiments of the most elevated portion of mankind, are the silent affections of his heart. The regenerating principles which have effected so much towards the growth of a new order of humanity, are the deep convictions of his individual conscience; and profoundly hidden in the experiences of his soul, are the spiritual laws that have since purified the piety and re-constructed the worship of millions of men. In that one peculiar being, as in a seed, [Christendom lies latent.] … The seed fulfils the conditions of all growth. It falls into the ground and dies.

“Ere long the fruit it was to bear, begins to appear. Little clusters of people like grapes on a vine are found in cities both near and remote from the place where he lived. They cling to each other. They grow together as if united by a common life, and attract the notice of all men by the singularity of their worship and behavior…. To them existence is not what it was; the world is not what it was; new thoughts occupy their minds; fresh affections, making old things seem distasteful, are yearning after congenial intercourse; an awakened moral sense abhors the practices in which they had before innocently engaged, and makes another order of the world necessary to their peace and satisfaction; strange hopes have taken hold on their souls; strange aspirations and purposes, which have altered their whole attitude towards their generation. They are one in the sympathy of a common Faith, Hope, and Charity. And what has begotten in these people, this new and singular spirit? They have seen, heard, conversed with, the men to whom this Jesus had communicated himself through some subtle influence which they could neither explain to themselves nor to others. They had no insight into his motives or intentions. Up to the very last hour of his life, they indulged a hope, which all his life long he had been laboring to dispel. His immortal ideas they failed to grasp, while they clung to his less significant words with a tenacity that nothing could loose. Yet, through all their stupidity and prejudice, his spirit had found its way to theirs. His being had bathed them like an atmosphere; had refreshed them like another climate. His character had shed itself like an aroma from his person, and penetrated invisibly to their natures’ roots. The mild radiance of his presence, the beaming of his face, the glance of his eye, the accents of his voice interpreting to their hearts words which their understanding could not apprehend, the indescribable serenity of his mien, so holy and so gracious, all expressed and imparted the spiritual life that was in him, so that when he died, that life was in various forms reproduced in those that knew him, according to their degree of susceptibility. And these, again, borne like seeds on the breath of the Spirit, spread the divine contagion even to distant lands, and made the attributes of the inward Christ visible in multitudes of communions, some of which knew him not, even by name.

“You will understand now what I mean by saying that Christianity was LIVED into the world. It was not built up by any skill in organizing establishments. It was not planted by sheer force of authoritative teaching. Men were not drilled into it, nor indoctrinated into it; they were BORN into it. It came to them as inspiration comes, and the effect of its coming was a new CONSCIOUSNESS, a new motive force, an original stamp of mind, and style of character. In a word, there was another life in the race….

“Christianity, let me repeat, was LIVED into the world. As a life, it reproduced and extended itself.   Its tendency, at least, nowhere completely fulfilled, it is true, but everywhere pushing against the obstacles in its path, was to re-animate and re-construct human relations….

“We have heard much lately about the Christian ‘CONSCIOUSNESS,’ as distinct from particular forms of belief or modes of thought; a general state of mind and affection that belongs to all genuine Christians alike, the partaking of which makes one a Christian, the lack of which makes one to be not a Christian; a prevailing and determining spirit, which, having the hidings of its power far down among the roots of human nature, distributes a secret but vital and quickening influence all through the substance of the moral and spiritual being, and diffuses abroad an aroma too delicate to be caught and imprisoned in symbolical books and sacred confessions, yet powerful enough to impress every spiritual sense and stimulate every spiritual desire. I believe there is such a spiritual Consciousness, common to all Christians, and distinguishing them from all who are not Christians more clearly than divines have ever succeeded in doing, while, at the same time, it prevents Christians, however artificially divided among themselves, from falling out finally with one another; a spiritual Consciousness which is nothing more or less than the mind of Jesus organizing itself in humanity….

“These are thoughts, vast, deep, shadowy. They are not dogmas; they are not opinions. They are spoiled and clipped by logical definition. They are spiritual truths, addressing themselves to the higher reason, which each may define for himself who can, or may innocently leave in the indistinctness which the soul best loves. They are inferences from what the Christian regards not as a notion but as a fact, a fact of inward assurance, a great conviction, that abides as a cornerstone, immovable in the deep soil of his heart. They are his translation into thought of a feeling that is deeper than all thought and runs before it.”

* * * *

One must read this material selectively. Along with sublime thoughts are a few prejudices and errors – many American Transcendentalists and Unitarians rejected, along with the harsh doctrines of Calvinism (from whence these movements evolved), many fine and noble elements of traditional Christianity.  For example, Frothingham writes,

“Put the intervening centuries by. Let your imaginations brush away, like so much dust on a window-pane, the vast Church that stands between you and him. Disappear, pope, cardinal, and priest; cathedral, chapel, shrine, altar, vestments, symbol, cross and goblet, keys and dove; vanish, creeds of every complexion, sects of every name.”

That is, in his appeal to  readers that they consult directly their Reason, Conscience, and intuitions for direct evidences of God, he goes further to question the validity of certain external forms of religion.  But remember that if we demand perfection of our saints, we shall have no saints. Despite certain prejudices, many of which are understandable if one considers the historical context, there is much that is saintly in these writings.

This caveat notwithstanding, there are times reading this literature that I am struck with a conviction that, in it, the prisca theologia, the ancient and venerable religion, reached its highest level of literary expression, before the radical materialism of the 20th century eclipsed the spiritual senses.  It remains there, providential, evidence of the action of the Holy Spirit in history, for us to consult and build upon.

This Old World religion, brought by the Puritans to New England and developed in the rich soil of village life in colonial America, I recognize as the same spiritual tradition in essence and fundamentals that was transmitted to me by Catholic sisters and priests at the parochial schools I attended as a child.

I should certainly try to follow up this post with more detail about the 19th century American Christian Transcendentalists and Unitarians.  One note of general interest to add here is that there is a direct literary and ideological connection between these writers and the Cambridge Platonists of the 17th century.  Besides Frothingham, some names of particular interest are William Ellery Channing, James Freeman Clarke, Francis Henry Hedge, and Abiel A. Livermore; but there are dozens more.

Additional Readings

Frothingham, Octavius B. Transcendentalism in New England. New York: Putnam, 1876.

Gardiner, Harold C. (Ed.). American Classics Reconsidered: A Christian Appraisal. New York: Scribner, 1958.

Howe, Daniel Walker. The Cambridge Platonists of Old and New England. Church History, 57, No. 4 (Dec., 1988), pp. 470-485. Reprinted as Ch. 7, ‘The Platonic Quest in New England’ in: Daniel Walker Howe, Making the American Self, 189-211. Oxford University Press, 2009 (orig. 1997).

Livermore, Abiel A. Discourses. Boston: Crosby, Nichols & Co., 1854.

Wells, Ronald V. Three Christian Transcendentalists: James Marsh, Caleb Sprague Henry, Frederic Henry Hedge. Columbia University Press, 1943.

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Origen of Alexandria: Purgatory or Paradisiacal School of Souls?

The usual Roman Catholic and Anglican belief is that, after death, souls go to Purgatory. This is traditionally envisioned as a purifying fire, though many suggest that ‘fire’ is to be understood in a metaphorical sense, representing a potentially painful purification.

While it is believed that souls of the good will eventually join God in heaven, this would actually happen after the end of the world, the General Resurrection and the Last Judgment.  So, even one who lived the most saintly life on earth would not go to heaven immediately, but would need to wait until after end times before receiving his or her final reward.

So what do souls of the good do in the meantime?  If they sinned little, why would they  remain in Purgatory for a protracted period?

Some theologians suggest that in the intermediate state, that is, the period between death and the General Resurrection, redeemed and sufficiently purified souls may go to not to heaven, but to different place, which is itself pleasant enough to merit the name Paradise.

Scriptural evidence comes from Jesus’ words on the cross to the penitent thief: Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise. (Luke 23:43)   Jesus said not “some day” but today the thief would be in Paradise.

Origen (184 – 254 AD), the enigmatic and mystical Church Father from Alexandria, Egypt, conjectured on the intermediate state in his speculative work, On First Principles (De Principiis).  He suggested that perhaps the just, after death, go to a place, Paradise, which is a school for souls.  He also mentioned an ascent through various spheres of heaven, using some of the same imagery as Gnostics (who were active in Alexandria at the same time, and whose work Origen knew well).  There are also associations to Jewish Merkabah mysticism, something which Origen also was exposed to by virtue of his tenure as a teacher in Caesarea, Palestine.

An extract of his work follows.  (As Origen’s sentences tend to be long, I’ve parsed them into something like blank verse poetry to aid understanding.)

Origen on the School of Souls

On First Principles, Book 2, Chapter 11, Sections 6-7 (2.11.6-7)

6… I think, therefore, that all the saints who depart from this life

will [first] remain in some place situated on the earth,

which holy Scripture calls paradise,

as in some place of instruction, and,

so to speak, class-room or school of souls,

in which they are to be instructed regarding all the things

which they had seen on earth,

and are to receive also some information respecting

things that are to follow in the future,

as even when in this life they had obtained

in some degree indications of future events,

although through a glass darkly,

all of which are revealed more clearly and distinctly

to the saints in their proper time and place.

If any one indeed be pure in heart, and holy in mind,

and more practised in perception, he will,

by making more rapid progress, [then]

quickly ascend to a place in the air,

and reach the kingdom of heaven,

through those mansions, so to speak,

in the various places which the Greeks

have termed spheres, i.e., globes,

but which holy Scripture has called heavens;

in each of which he will first see clearly what is done there,

and in the second place, will discover the reason

why things are so done:

and thus he will in order pass through all gradations,

 following Him who has passed into the heavens,

Jesus the Son of God, who said,

I will that where I am, these may be also.

And of this diversity of places He speaks, when

He says, In My Father’s house are many mansions….

7. When, then, the saints shall have

reached the celestial abodes,

they will clearly see the nature of the stars

one by one,

and will understand

whether they are endued with life,

or their condition, whatever it is.

And they will comprehend also the

other reasons for the works of God,

which He Himself will reveal to them.

For He will show to them, as to children,

the causes of things and the power of His creation,

and will explain why that star was placed

in that particular quarter of the sky,

and why it was separated from another

by so great an intervening space;

what, e.g., would have been the consequence

if it had been nearer or more remote;

or if that star had been larger than this,

how the totality of things would not have remained the same,

but all would have been transformed

into a different condition of being.

And so, when they have finished all those matters

which are connected with the stars,

and with the heavenly revolutions,

they will come to those which are not seen,

or to those whose names only we have heard,

and to things which are invisible,

which the Apostle Paul has informed us are numerous,

although what they are, or what difference may exist among them,

we cannot even conjecture by our feeble intellect.

 

And thus the rational nature,

growing by each individual step,

not as it grew in this life in flesh, and body, and soul,

but enlarged in understanding and in power of perception,

is raised as a mind already perfect to perfect knowledge,

no longer at all impeded by those carnal senses,

but increased in intellectual growth; and ever gazing purely,

and, so to speak, face to face, on the causes of things, it attains perfection,

firstly, viz., that by which it ascends to (the truth),

and secondly, that by which it abides in it,

having problems and the understanding of things,

and the causes of events, as the food on which it may feast.

For as in this life our bodies grow physically to what they are,

through a sufficiency of food in early life supplying the means of increase,

but after the due height has been attained we use food no longer to grow,

but to live, and to be preserved in life by it;

so also I think that the mind, when it has attained perfection,

eats and avails itself of suitable and appropriate food in such a degree,

that nothing ought to be either deficient or superfluous.

And in all things this food is to be understood

as the contemplation and understanding of God,

which is of a measure appropriate and suitable to this nature,

which was made and created;

and this measure it is proper should be observed by

every one of those who are beginning to see God,

i.e., to understand Him through purity of heart.

Source

Origen. De Principiis. Tr. Frederick Crombie. Ante-Nicene Fathers, Vol. IV (ANF4). Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson, Eds. Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1866-1872.

Christianity for Agnostics

Introduction

One way of expressing the thesis presented here is this:  if one were to design an ideal spiritual-philosophical system for Americans and Europeans, I believe it would contain everything that traditional Christianity has, except for some problematic and potentially dispensable doctrinal elements (e.g., the idea that religious authority can replace personal free inquiry in religious matters). One may participate in the psychological experience of Christianity, in my personal opinion, while at the same time reserving judgment on certain specific doctrines of this kind.  Doctrine can never be perfect, because ultimate realities cannot be expressed in words; any attempt to do so must inevitably produce contradiction.  Or to simply look at the matter historically, the Christian authorities were wrong about Galileo, and it is certain that some doctrines of today will follow the route of the earth-centered universe.

But such limitations are no cause to ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater’. The Christian tradition already exists.  It is the product of centuries of continual refinement, a consummate work, polished and refined by the wise, loving, and inspired hands of countless individuals – each potentially the image of God, but in any case a human being with angelic abilities and aspirations, unimaginable creative potential, and loving instincts  Moreover, this tradition is an organic cultural whole, which operates according to principles yet unknown to science. The suggestion that one might begin from scratch, constructing a new, personal religion, spirituality, or psychological system of equal or comparable quality, by selectively borrowing pieces here and there is unlikely at best.  Such a view is hubris of a very high order, and elevates to personal godhood that meager sliver of consciousness denoted by the word ‘ego’. One may as well try to equal Beethoven in writing a symphony, or Raphael in painting.

Although I am a Christian myself, for this article I wear my hat as psychologist.  My interest in that capacity is to assist others, as best I can, to achieve psychological integrity and self-actualization.  Nothing asserted is contrary to reason. To a significant extent I follow the theories of Carl Jung here (but disagree with Jung on several important points, and would hesitate to call myself a ‘Jungian’).  More fundamentally, I follow the basic trend of intelligently-based rejection of radical empiricism that began with the Romantic movement and is associated, for example, with writers like Coleridge and Wordsworth.  The leading principle of the Romantic argument – which has tragically been lost in the 20th and 21st centuries (yet are  more urgently important now than ever) – is that Enlightenment rationalism allows no place for the experience of the sublime, or those things which give deepest meaning to our lives.

While written from a Roman Catholic perspective,  the points below apply with similar force to other liturgical Christian denominations, such as the Anglican, Orthodox, and Eastern Catholic Churches.  Many of the same arguments might also apply to traditional Judaism.

This, then, is sufficient introduction.  What follows is a brief listing of specific points, organized around the categories of (1) Psychology, Anthropology and Ethics; (2) Cultus; and (3) Metaphysics.

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1. Psychology, Anthropology and Ethics

Ethics

Christianity is an advanced ethical system that promotes the abandonment of personal egoism.

The pronounced emphasis in Christianity on acts of charity follows from and supports the abandonment of egoism.  In the West, Christian saints and charitable institutions set the standard for egolessness.

The abandonment of egoism, or humility, as it is technically known, also manifests itself in a surrender to God’s will.  Here we encounter a constellation of concepts – Providence, Grace, the Logos, etc. – associated with an orderly plan for all Creation, and man’s role therein. These all point to the potential attainment of a state of harmony between thought, action, and Nature.  While Christianity is often criticized as being dualistic (e.g., denigrating the natural world, and tolerating , or even supporting its exploitation), true Christianity aims for a condition of non-duality.

If one investigates the matter attentively and honestly, one will readily observe within oneself a definite capacity to (1) act in ways that harm oneself; (2) act in ways that harm others; and (3) have negative thoughts (i.e., thoughts which disrupt, rather than serve to integrate the mind).  The honest person will also recognize a tendency to self-deceit, and lack of objectivity in evaluating ones thoughts and actions.  Lacking a better term, we may lump all of the preceding under the provisional term of “sin.”

Sin, therefore, is a useful concept, because it denotes a range of important related phenomena, for which no other term is available.  We could as easily name it “what traditional religions call sin”, but that would be a bit awkward.  Various associations to guilt, punishment, penance, etc., or the idea that “sin” may be defined unconditionally by an ecclesiastic authority we may exclude from our operational definition.

This thing, “sin”, then, exists, and is to our detriment.  Unless one is courageous and honest enough to accept ones capacity for “sin” in some sense, it is difficult to see how one will find happiness, achieve personality integration, or improve ethically.

Soteriology

Salvation.  It is similarly apparent to the honest observer that one exists in a state of need and deprivation.  Most of us live day to day in various degrees (often severe) of unhappiness and lack of fulfillment.  (Recall Thoreau’s remark:  “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.”)  All too infrequently, we live in states of anxiety, depression, aimlessness, confusion, wasted energy, etc.  For this reason, each person, then, instinctively seeks what we may call psychological salvation.  Christianity is not necessarily the only theoretical means of achieving psychological salvation; but it is an established means, tested by time, designed for this purpose, and especially adapted to the personality structure of Westerners.  It would be difficult to demonstrate that any other means is more effective.

The Christ Principle

Many psychologists speak of a “self-actualizing” principle in the human psyche:  a force, drive, principle, or telos which directs one to levels of greater integration, completion and happiness.  For Christians, this self-actualizing principle can be understood as an inner Christ.  We may call it by other names, but that does not change the significance of this salvific principle.

Inasmuch as this principle is present in all people, it is reasonable to think of there being a universal Archetype – an original principle of which all individual instances are images.  This Archetype would correspond to Jesus Christ as a cosmic principle.  However, it must be admitted that this latter part is more speculative, and more a matter of personal faith and intuition.  The point to be made here is that modern psychology affirms the existence of an individual self-actualizing principle, and this principle is both acknowledged by and central to Christianity.

Forgiveness

The principle of forgiveness is central to Christian ethics.  The earnest Christian affirms, “as I forgive those who trespass against me” with each recitation of the Lord’s Prayer.  The Apostle’s Creed also affirms as a basic Christian belief “the forgiveness of sins.”  Christ died, Christians are taught, for the forgiveness of sins.  Nearly his last words on the cross were, “Father, forgive them.” St. Paul, who became one of the greatest Apostles, was previously a great sinner — as though this aspect of his life was meant to engrain in our minds the availability of forgiveness.

If one probes deeply into human nature, one may observe that issues of guilt and forgiveness are of immense concern.  Almost all of our difficulties, personal and social, relate, in some way or another,  to an inability or failure to forgive.  Yet there is never anything gained by not forgiving.  Holding onto anger and resentment is a deep-seated and pervasive flaw in human character.

In no other religion is an emphasis on forgiveness so pronounced. Christianity might well be called a religion of forgiveness.   That this is an ideal many find themselves unable to live up to completely is incidental for our purposes.  What matters is that it is an ideal.

The God-image

A central tenet of Christianity is that the human being is made in God’s image.  This has profound implications for how we view ourselves and other people.

2. Cultus

The eminent psychologist Carl Jung once wrote that, if one of his patients reported that he or she had returned to participation in the Catholic Church, he (Jung) considered that patient cured, or in any case advanced beyond the point that psychotherapy would be of further use.  By this he meant that within the human psyche are archetypal principles and forces that are largely beyond our ability to scientifically understand, but are effectively dealt with by religion.  Religion, properly practiced, in Jung’s view, is a primary means by which our culture has evolved for grappling with these archetypes, and achieving integration of the personality.

This brings us to the important subject of  cultus, which we may define here as all the non-doctrinal practices and traditions of Christianity.

Opponents of religion and Christianity typically level their accusations against specific Christian doctrines. This mistakenly equate Christianity with doctrine.

But much of Christianity’s value comes from its cultus.  This cultus is the result of a millennia-long process of cumulative development and improvement.

Just as our material culture – how to mix cement or build bridges – has improved  through the centuries inexorably, regardless of regimes or wars, the  culture of Christianity, its cultus, has been gradually improved and refined.  Any time an innovation in cultus emerges, it is compared with the present counterpart and the better chosen.  A successful innovation introduced one place can be immediately imitated elsewhere.

So Christianity has grown gradually to satisfy the aesthetic, intellectual, emotional and spiritual needs of its flock.  When a process like this continues for a long time it produces considerable refinement.  Christian cultus  continually improves to accommodate the deepest needs and propensities of the human psyche.

Three important divisions of Christian cultus are Art, Literature, and Practices.

Art

Fine art. Christianity has inspired many of the finest works of art that Western culture has produced, including paintings, sculptures, illuminated manuscripts, stained glass windows, and so on.

Music.  Similarly, Christianity has inspired great productions of music from composers such as Bach, Handel, Vivaldi, Schubert, Vaughan-Williams, and innumerable others.  This superlative music evokes feelings and intuitions of the highest order, which no words adequately describe, although terms like Joy, Beauty, Wonder, and Mystery are related to it.  But who has ever composed an Atheist Oratorio or a Skeptic’s Symphony?

Architecture.  What has been said above can also be said of the magnificent churches of Christianity, the basilicas and, especially, the Gothic cathedrals of Europe.  To enter one of these buildings is to enter the realm of the sublime – or, as some would have it, heaven itself.

Literature

Scripture.  Even were it not religious, the Bible would command our utmost attention as an unsurpassed work of literature and psychology.  Every aspect, problem, difficulty and puzzle of human life is somewhere addressed therein.  It has grown organically, reflecting the judgment of erudite and lofty-minded collators and translators.  It passes to us a gem of human wisdom and insight.

I do not believe the Bible is literally true in every detail.  In fact, I find such an assertion contrary both to reason and Christian teaching itself!  But I do consider the Bible as something sacred, numinous – as exemplifying or manifesting a reality higher than this material one.  Whatever you seek from ancient lore, from mysterious writings of great import, however you honor that sacred human urge – seek it first in the Bible and you will not be disappointed.  The Bible is your book.  Approach it as if it were written for you alone.

Patristic literature.  Along with the Bible, we also possess an immense literature by the so-called Fathers (and Mothers) of the Church, both West and East.  Luminaries in this constellation of geniuses include Origen of Alexandria, St. Augustine of Hippo, the Cappadocian Fathers (St. Basil, St. Gregory of Nyssa, St. Gregory of Nazianzus), St. John Chrysostom, St. Ambrose of Milan, and St. Maximus the Confessor, among others.

These great authors have produced profoundly beautiful and deeply insightful works.  Nobody who reads them is disappointed.  No modern writer today’s approach them degree of knowledge, rationality, and skill.

One might ask:  if these writers are so profound, why are they not better known?  The answer is largely that, in many cases, it has only been recently that their works have appeared in modern languages.  Even the works of St. Augustine have not yet been fully translated.

Doctors of the Church.  Another category of traditional Christian writers is that of the Church Doctors.  Examples include St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, St. Catherine of Siena, and St. Francis of Sales.  Again, these writers show remarkable humanism and insight into psychology.  It is most unfortunate that their works, sources of deep insight and inspiration, are neglected solely because they are Christian or Roman Catholic.

Christian mysticism. The Christian contemplative and mystical tradition is a living one.  Today there are still many monastic centers, carrying on a tradition of mystical practices that originated in ancient times – perhaps even before Christianity.  The works of, say, St. John Ruysbroeck, command our attention if for no other reason than their sheer beauty.

Asceticism.  Many Westerners today, and even many psychologists, recognize the benefits of practices like mindfulness meditation and the watching and analyzing of thoughts.  There is no doubt that these practices have evolved to a very high degree in Eastern traditions such as Buddhism.  Yet no less impressive is the ascetical psychological tradition of the West, found in Catholic and Orthodox Christianity.  The  Philokalia  is an outstanding example of this tradition.   The Western ascetical tradition is in no way inferior to the Eastern tradition, yet is better suited to the culture, moirés, and temperament of Americans and Europeans.

Practices

The Mass.  Even were it viewed only as a form of ritual art, the Mass’s value  would be more than sufficiently demonstrated.  Cross-cultural evidence reveals a universal human interest in ritual.  Ritual appears to satisfy needs that cannot be met any other way.  Ritual is a language of the unconscious, and, as such, needs no rational defense.  Many rituals, the Mass included, are connected with personal transformation.  Because Carl Jung’s essay, ‘Transformation Symbolism in the Mass’ (Collected Works, Vol. 11, Psychology and Religion: West and East, 1975, pp 201-98) has treated of this subject admirably well, we need say no more here in this regard.

Other rituals.  The ancient rituals, rites and ceremonies associated with special occasions – baptisms, marriages, the Easter and Christmas seasons, and so on – must also be mentioned.   It is difficult to convey the aesthetic and deeply satisfying quality of these to any who have not seen them first-hand.  They are a living connection with our ancient past.

In the tradition of Greek pagan religion, one sometimes encounters the idea of theurgy – or ritual practices aimed to promote spiritual growth, in connection with various gods or goddesses.  Some people today find such ancient pagan religions attractive for this very reason.  Yet within Christianity there is the same sort of thing – namely the liturgies, rituals, and sacramental practices – developed to a much higher degree.  But in the case of Christianity, this is a living tradition, not one that modern people have tried to reconstruct based on scanty past evidence and conjecture.

Prayer.  What good person has never felt the deep and spontaneous urge to pray for another, whether it be a relative, friend or the victim of unfortunate circumstance?  The urge to pray is so universal that we can little imagine it not having decidedly positive effect – even if only in the mind of the one who prays.  If we are to pray, if we are pray-ers by disposition, may we not conceive of a technology of prayer?  Should prayer be the only aspect of human life in which tradition and the cumulative experience of others is be of no benefit?  Christianity teaches us how to pray.  Moreover, it contains a rich store of formulas and prayers suitable for every circumstance in life.

Christian prayer is supported by traditional practices. Consider, for example, the folding of hands by a Christian in devout prayer.  In the terminology of yoga, this is called a mudra – a ritual position of the hands, thought to have psychological or spiritual value.  It is good to study yoga, with its various mudras and asanas; yet one should not, in the process, neglect the store of comparable postures and actions in the Christian tradition – the kneeling, the crossing of oneself, the bowing of the head, the raising of hands in characteristic ways.  The ritual positions and actions of a priest saying Mass are exceptionally interesting in this regard, yet are typically taken for granted.

Liturgical calendar.  Over the centuries, the Christian Church has evolved an elaborate and rich calendar, associating festivals and commemorations with various days and seasons.  These no doubt reflect very ancient traditions.  They connect us with the changing seasons, and promote a harmonization of our lives and souls with the natural world

Veneration of saints.  What is remarkable is not so much that there are saints, but that there are so many.  Each saint is the expression of some virtue or human excellence of which the human being is capable.  Each saint, it may be said, corresponds to some archetype of the individual soul.  Each constitutes an ideal whose example we are naturally inclined to imitate.  By studying the lives of the saints, we learn about our own deepest aspirations and potentialities.

3. Metaphysics

The Holy Trinity. To some, the doctrine of the Holy Trinity may seem a strange and arbitrary one.  But, in fact, the doctrine partly derives from the speculation and theories of pre-Christian, Platonic philosophers.  The Trinity solves certain meaningful theological and metaphysical problems.

Divine Mother.  Christianity also makes ample room for and pays due homage to a Divine Feminine principle.  Admittedly, the written doctrine on this point is somewhat unclear and perhaps even a little contradictory.  But, to return briefly to the idea of cultus, clearly at that level considerable attention is paid to the Divine Feminine, and this promotes psychological integration.

Angels.  This subject is a broad one, but one aspect of particular interest is the idea of a guardian angel.  This Christian concept corresponds to very ancient notions of a companion spirit associated with the individual person.  I hope to write more on this at another time; for now let it suffice simply to suggest a possible connection between this concept and a Higher Self.

Communion of Saints.  One of the most extraordinary innovations of Christianity is the concept of a communion of saints – a spiritual community of Christians, both living and dead, into a kind of super-personal organism or institution.  This makes a lot of sense.  If our souls are eternal, and if we may, as many suppose, communicate and help each other at a spiritual level, then would it not be in our interests to form some kind of spiritual organization for mutual benefit and to effect God’s work together?

Look at the challenges of the world today, the great social needs, the injustice, the terrible deprivation of so many.  If you are reading this, it presupposes that you are the kind of person who is moved to concern and action by such things.  Can you solve them by yourself?  Perhaps you have tried, and, if so, likely have not gotten very far.  Would it not make sense to at least explore the possibility of working within a spiritual communion of similarly inclined souls?  If God wants these problems solved, would it not make sense that He would employ such a means as this?

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In the interests of the reader, this list has been kept short and minimal.  Many more items could be included and elaborated on at length.  Let these suffice, however, to supply an honest view of how one Christian views his faith.  Hopefully even the most inveterate skeptic will discern that there is a much firmer foundation here than mere superstition, or failure to exercise disciplined reasoning – the two objections raised most commonly today against Christianity.

Names of God in the Catholic Mass

It is instructive to consider the various names of God used in the Catholic Mass. The list below comes from the regular Order of the Mass, variable Eucharistic Prayers I — IV, and variable Eucharistic Prayers for Masses of Reconciliation I — II, as shown on the web pages of Felix Just S. J. .

God

One God

God the Father

God
The Lord
Lord God
The Lord, Our God
Lord God Almighty
Lord, God of All Creation
Almighty God
Almighty God and Father
Almighty Father
Our Father
God Our Father
Father, All Powerful and Everliving God
Creator of All Life
Heavenly King
Holy Lord, God of Power and Might
God of Glory and Majesty
God of Love and Mercy
Fountain of All Holiness
One God, Living and True
Through All Eternity You Live in Unapproachable Light
Source of Life and Goodness
Our Living and True God
All life, all holiness comes from you through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, by the working of the Holy Spirit.

Jesus Christ

Jesus Christ
Lord Jesus Christ
Jesus Christ Our Lord and God
Christ Our Lord
Lord God
The Lord
Jesus
The Beloved Son, Jesus the Christ
Only Son of the Father
The Holy One
The Most High,  Jesus Christ
Maker of Heaven and Earth
Eternally Begotten of the Father
God from God
Light from Light
True God from True God
The Word
The Word that Brings Salvation
He Who Comes in the Name of the Lord
You Raise the Dead to Life in the Spirit
You Bring Pardon and Peace to the Sinner
You Bring Light to Those in Darkness
Our Savior
Our Savior, Jesus Christ
Savior of the World
Dying You Destroyed Our Death
Rising You Restored Our Life
Lamb of God
You Take Away the Sin of the World
Jesus Christ, Our Passover and Our Lasting Peace
Jesus Christ, Your (God the Father’s) Only Son, Our Lord
The Sacrifice which Restores Man to Your (God the Father’s) Friendship
The Hand  You (God the Father) Stretch Out to Sinners
The Way that Leads to Your (God the Father’s) Peace

The Holy Spirit

The Spirit
The Holy Spirit
The Lord, the Giver of Life (Holy Spirit)
Your (God the Father’s) Spirit