It is not hatred that is wrong, it is hating the wrong thing that is wrong. It is not anger that is wrong, it is being angry at the wrong thing that is wrong. Tell me your enemy, and I will tell you what you are. Tell me your hatred, and I will tell you your character. Do you hate religion? Then your conscience bothers you. Do you hate the wealthy? Then you are avaricious, and you want to be wealthy. Do you hate sin? Then you love God. Do you hate your hate, your selfishness, your quick temper, your wickedness? Then you are a good soul, for ‘if any man come to me… and hate not his own life, he cannot be my disciple’. — Luke 14:26
There is a law that is not in nature, at least not in raw nature, namely, we who are strong should bear the infirmities of the weak and not please ourselves. It is here that Christianity makes it most unique and distinctive pronouncement, and gives the supreme example of Divinity dying for the weakness and sinfulness of humanity. The Christian law is not the survival of the fittest, but the survival of the unfit.
It may take a long time for Western civilization to realize that the good it is seeking is the good that it left. The world will not quickly realize that the Church which it believed was so restraining to liberty is really the only force that can make us free, and that which was so much behind the times is the only institution which has survived the times.
The greatest joys in life are purchased at the cost of some sacrifice. No one ever enjoys good reading, good music, or good art without a certain amount of study and effort. Neither can one enjoy love without a certain amount of self-denial.
Broadmindedness, when it means indifference to right and wrong, eventually ends in a hatred of what is right.
All love craves unity. As the highest peak of love in the human order is the unity of husband and wife in the flesh, so the highest unity in the Divine order is the unity of the soul and Christ in communion.
There is always hope for the man who knows that he is doing wrong; but there is no hope for the man who is doing wrong and calls the wrong right. The Catholic gets off the road like anyone else, but he never throws away the map.
A pulpit in which the words of our Lord are repeated does not unite us to Him; a choir in which sweet sentiments are sung brings us no closer to His Cross than to His garments. A temple without an altar of sacrifice is non-existent among primitive peoples, and is meaningless among Christians. And so in the Catholic Church the altar, and not the pulpit or the choir or the organ, is the center of worship, for there is re-enacted the memorial of His Passion. Its value does not depend on him who says it, or on him who hears it; it depends on Him who is the One High Priest and Victim, Jesus Christ our Lord.
Unlike anyone else, Our Lord came on earth, not to live, but to die. Death for our redemption was the goal of His sojourn here, the gold that he was seeking. He was, therefore, not primarily a teacher, but a Savior. Was not Christ the Priest a Victim? He never offered anything except Himself. So we have a mutilated concept of our priesthood, if we envisage it apart from making ourselves victims in the prolongation of His Incarnation.
And yet at that moment when a tree of his own creation turned against Him and became a cross, when the iron of His earth reacted against Him and became nails, when roses rebelled against Him and became thorns, at that second when a sickle and a hammer combined to cut down the weeds on Calvary’s hill to erect a gallows and drive nails through hands to render impotent the blessings of love incarnate, He, like a tree which bathes in perfume the ax which kills it, lets fall from His lips for the earth’s first hearing the answer to the riddle of hate and anger: “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.”
He did not ask that men should write down His Words into Scripture; He did not ask that His kindness to the poor should be recorded in history; but He did ask that men remember His Death. And in order that it’s memory might not be any haphazard narrative on the part of men, He Himself instituted the precise way it should be recalled. The memorial was instituted the night before He died, at what has since been called “The Last Supper.”
He that is without sin among you, let him cast the first stone. The implication is clear: innocence alone has the right to condemn. But innocence will always wish to take on the guilt of the other, to atone for his failings as if they were his own. Love recognizes the sin, but love also dies for it.
I don’t want my life to be mine, I want it to be Christ’s. The more ego there is, the less there is of Christ.
Why do I exist? That is a question very few ever ask themselves. They would not have a ten cent gadget in their homes for five minutes without knowing its purpose, but they will go through life without knowing why they are living. Until we answer that question there is no question worth answering; and the way we answer it determines our character in this world and our destiny in the next.
Cynicism is a screen behind which youth hides its ignorance and old age its sin.