Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me. Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so that you are proved right when you speak and justified when you judge. Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me. Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place. Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
King David was on the roof of his house, looking out over the city and the land he ruled. As his eyes scanned the scene, he saw a woman on her roof—Bathsheba—who was naked and bathing. Watching her, he felt desire for her, and even though she was married, he devised a plan to have her.
Her husband, Uriah, was one of his soldiers, so he sent him to the front lines of a fierce battle where he would certainly be killed. He was, and after the appropriate mourning period, David had Bathsheba brought to him and married her.
The Lord saw David’s wickedness and sent Nathan the prophet to rebuke him for his sin. David confessed, and it is believed that David wrote the Psalm I shared with you during his time of penance. He cried out to the Lord, “Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.”
From the very beginning of human history, when Adam and Eve were banished from the Garden of Eden, this cry has crossed the lips of all God’s children: “Wash me. Wash me from my sins so that I might be whiter than snow. So that I might be cleansed of my sins.”
It’s always been this way; however, on the day ordained by God, Jesus opened the gates to a new path. On that day, Jesus began by taking on the role of a slave and washing the disciples’ feet. Peter objected, but Jesus insisted, “If you are to be a part of me, if you are to be where I am going, then you must allow me to wash your feet. You must allow me to cleanse you.”
Following the foot washing, scripture says, “While they were eating, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’ Then he took the cup, gave thanks, and offered it to them, saying, ‘Drink from it, all of you. This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.’”
It is fair to say that the disciples failed to understand the significance and connection between these two events, but after his crucifixion, they would come to realize that the footwashing was symbolic of the washing of their souls through the body and blood of Christ.
Jesus—God—humbled Himself to the role of a slave and washed their feet so that they might be outwardly clean. Jesus—God—humbled Himself to death on a cross so that their souls might be cleansed.
Today we celebrate the gift of the most Holy Eucharist. The symbolism of washing the feet points to the washing of our souls, and it is the answer to our cry, “Wash me, Lord. Wash me and I will be whiter than snow.”
Last week, I shared with you a verse from the Epistle to the Hebrews: “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). In our study of the Heavenly Virtues, including the three Theological Virtues, we understand that faith is a gift from God, but that faith is not something like a commodity we can acquire more of it on an as-needed basis. Instead, faith is a relationship with the Father through Christ Jesus. Faith is resting in the shadow of His wings, regardless of circumstances or outcome. However, the passage from Hebrews introduced the second of the Theological Virtues—hope.
Within philosophy, hope has mainly been seen as negative, though sometimes as positive. It is considered negative because it was seen as frivolous optimism, and positive because, in the right measure, it can provide encouragement.
In psychology, hope is considered part of positivity and positive thinking. Hope is “the perceived capability to derive pathways to desired goals, and motivate oneself via agency thinking—willpower or drive—to use those pathways.” (Source) A psychology professor at the University of Oklahoma explains, “We often use the word ‘hope’ in place of wishing, like you hope it rains today or you hope someone’s well… but wishing is passive toward a goal, and hope is about taking action toward it.” (Ibid.) From this view, hope combines positive thinking with action to achieve a specific goal.
Both of these approaches—philosophy and psychology—bump up against our understanding of the Virtue of Christian Hope, but neither completely captures it, and they differ in two main ways.
First, Christian hope is not about an action or outcome we expect to be fulfilled in the future. Instead, Christian hope concerns an outcome that has already been accomplished. Our hope is the salvation that was achieved at Golgotha on the Cross. St. Alphonsus Liguori writes, “What sinner would ever have been able to hope for pardon if Jesus had not, by his blood and by his death, made satisfaction to the divine justice for us?” (The Love of Jesus Crucified, p.117) Without salvation, there would be no hope; without it, life is just a series of days strung together that lead to nothingness. Instead, “How great is the hope of salvation which the death of Jesus Christ imparts to us.” (Ibid. p.122)
Writing to the Romans, St. Paul said, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.Who is to condemn?” (Romans 8:32-34) Ligouri, expanding on this, wrote, “How should that Lord condemn thee, who died in order not to condemn thee? How should he drive thee away when thou returnest to his feet, he who came from heaven to seek thee when thou wert fleeing from him? ‘What art thou afraid of, sinner? How shall he condemn thee penitent, who dies that thou mayst not be condemned? How shall he cast thee off returning, who came from heaven seeking thee?’” (Love, p.122) In other words, for you, Jesus endured the horrors of the Cross, why—if you call on His name, if you have faith in Him and, through that faith, enter into a relationship with Him, and if you love Him—why would He turn from you and condemn you? Christian hope speaks to our souls and assures us that He would never do that. This also highlights the second main difference between Christian hope and the hope of philosophy or psychology: Although Christian hope helps us in this life, its main focus is eternal life.
Our hope lies in our salvation, which has already been secured. While we begin to experience the joy of that salvation in this life, it is our eternal life that Jesus cares most about. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die” (John 11:25-26). Our hope is eternal life, made possible through salvation gained through the Cross. That in turn gives us the hope we have in daily living. Through the hope of eternal life, made possible by the resurrection of the dead, regardless of the trials we endure, in the words of St. Teresa of Avila: “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.” That fun line from The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel puts it: “Everything will be okay in the end, and if it is not okay, it is not the end.”
Faith is the loving and protective relationship we have with the Father. Our hope informs our souls to know that not only do we have this relationship, but that it is eternal. This leaves us with the last of the Theological and Heavenly Virtues, and it is greater than all these—love.
Let us pray (from St. Alphonsus Ligouri). I invite you to make this prayer your own: My Jesus, my hope, Thou, in order not to lose me, hast been willing to lose Thy life; I will not lose Thee, O infinite good. If, in time past, I have lost Thee, I repent of it; I wish, for the future, never to lose Thee more. It is for Thee to aid me, that I may not lose Thee again. O Lord, I love Thee, and I will love Thee always. Mary, thou, next after Jesus, art my hope; tell thy Son that thou dost protect me, and I shall be safe. Amen. So may it be. (Love, p.130)
Today, we celebrate the Annunciation: when the angel of the Lord visited Mary and told her she would give birth to God’s Son. Regarding Mary, Mother Teresa writes, “Mary showed complete trust in God by agreeing to be used as an instrument in his plan of salvation. She trusted him in spite of her nothingness because she knew he who is mighty could do great things in her and through her. Once she said “yes” to him, she never doubted. She was just a young woman, but she belonged to God, and nothing nor anyone could separate her from him.”
Once Mary heard God’s message and plan, she believed. For such a young woman, that was a great demonstration of faith, but it is also a decision—through faith—that each of us must make, because even though we do not physically give birth to Jesus, we all must agree to him being conceived within us.
We know that Elizabeth was Mary’s cousin and the mother of John the Baptist. On this, Saint Ambrose once preached: “Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit after conceiving a son; Mary was filled before. ‘You are blessed,’ said Elizabeth to Mary, ‘because you have believed.’” But then, speaking to his congregation, Ambrose said, “You too are blessed because you have heard and believed. The soul of every believer conceives and brings forth the Word of God and recognizes His works. Let Mary’s soul be in each of you to glorify the Lord. Let her spirit be in each of you to rejoice in the Lord. Christ has only one Mother in the flesh, but we all bring forth Christ by faith. Every soul free from contamination of sin and safe in its purity can receive the Word of God.”
Like Mary, we are blessed if we allow Jesus to be conceived within us, but it doesn’t end there; we must also allow him to be born through us so his light can shine into the world. As Jesus said at the Sermon on the Mount, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.”
It might seem strange that we hear about the Annunciation so close to Easter, but remember, we are nine months from Christmas. Additionally, this is the time for Jesus to be conceived in us and for us to let his light shine through us. As St. Paul says, “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”
Hear the words the angel spoke to you and say with Mary, “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
The lineup for the St. Louis Wolves baseball team: Who’s on first, What’s on second, and I Don’t Know is on third. I do believe that trying to keep track of the seven Heavenly Virtues can at times be equally as confusing. Just be thankful I opted not to include the discussion on the seven Capital Virtues and the seven Deadly Sins—maybe another day.
To bring everyone up to speed: the seven Heavenly Virtues consist of the four Cardinal Virtues and the three Theological Virtues. So far, we’ve covered the Cardinal Virtues: fortitude (spiritual courage), justice (seeking the common good), prudence (setting rules and measures), and temperance (moderation and balance). The Theological Virtues are perhaps more familiar: faith, hope, and charity or love. Today, we turn our attention to the first—faith.
Holy Scripture is full of discussions about faith; after all, that is what it all revolves around. There are many passages we can quote, and one of the more well-known is found in St. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians—“We walk by faith, not by sight” (2 Corinthians 5:7). We enjoy quoting this, but I have to wonder—Do we truly walk by faith and not by sight? I would like to say yes, but I don’t think that is entirely accurate. Not because we don’t believe it to be true, but because we don’t fully understand what it means to have the faith that is proclaimed in the Bible. The issue began around the time of the Enlightenment (17th and 18th centuries), and it can be narrowed somewhat to that deep philosophical statement by the French (those darn French!) mathematician and philosopher René Descartes. He said, “I think, therefore I am.” Why is that a problem? That one little word “I.”
The word “I” shifts faith from the realm of God the Creator into the realm of us, the created. By doing so, faith becomes individualistic. It becomes what I can see, what I can do, and what I believe, which may sometimes align with other believers but often differ vastly. For example, consider the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds.
“I believe in one God, the Father Almighty… and in one Lord Jesus Christ. I believe in the Holy Ghost the Lord, and Giver of life.” Now, before I go further, please don’t rush to the Bishop and tell him, “Father John says the Creeds are a problem!” I’m not saying that. But when we declare these statements, I know for a fact that we don’t all understand them the same way. More importantly, even though these statements speak of our faith, they do so intellectually; knowing something intellectually doesn’t have the power to transform lives. I can know that Jesus is Lord intellectually, but that knowledge won’t help much when the doctor calls up and says, “Stage four.” I firmly believe that knowledge is power, but when it comes to our faith, that knowledge must be incorporated into a life that is lived.
Another way we misunderstand faith is how we perceive it working in our lives. Say you get that call from the doctor. In your mind, you might think, “I’ll need to have greater faith to see me through this.” Or when things aren’t going well, someone who should be slapped silly might say, “You just need to have more faith.” In both cases, faith becomes something akin to adding more horsepower to an engine. “I’m gonna nitro-infuse the dual turbocharged manifold of my faith and supercharge it!” I know nothing about cars, but you get the idea. But what happens when the turbocharged faith fails? What happens when the doctor says, “We’ve done all we can do”? Didn’t you have enough faith? Was God angry with you? Or do we couch it in easier-to-swallow but vague spiritual language, “It’s God’s will”?
Our beliefs and our turbocharged faith, or lack thereof, are just two reasons why I don’t think we truly understand what Holy Scripture means by faith. There are more reasons, but enough about what faith isn’t. So, what exactly is faith? A specific incident in Matthew’s Gospel helps us grasp the answer.
“When Jesus got into the boat, his disciples followed him. And behold, there arose a great storm on the sea, so that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. And they went and woke him, saying, ‘Save us, Lord; we are perishing.’ And he said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?’ Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. And the men marveled, saying, What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?’” (Matthew 8:23-27)
This is a familiar story and a favorite for many. We understand that water symbolizes chaos and death, and that the storm represents the world around us with its challenges, concerns, hardships, and more. We are the disciples—concerned, confused, afraid, and dying. Jesus… well, Jesus is conked out in the bow of the boat. From our intellect, we shout out at the storm, “I believe in one God, Father Almighty…,” but the storm still rages. We say, “I will turbocharge my faith,” but the storm still rages. We bargain with God, saying, “Get me through this, and I’ll attend every service during Holy Week,” but the storm still rages. Do all you know to do, but the storm is still going to rage. Why? Because rage is what storms do. You try to influence that storm with your intellectual understanding or your turbocharged faith, but it doesn’t work. Yes, in this particular instance, Jesus calmed the storm, but consider this: years later, after Jesus ascended into Heaven, Peter faced another storm in Rome. Jesus didn’t calm that storm, and it ended with Peter being crucified upside down. Bartholomew was caught in a storm that ended with him being flayed alive. James faced a storm that led to his beheading. All those men in that boat—the exception might be John, who likely saw his fair share of storms—had storms that ended in their brutal and merciless deaths. Did they not have enough faith? Was their faith not turbocharged? No!
In that boat on the sea, when the storm was raging, and the disciples were terrified, Jesus was not only sleeping peacefully. He was also teaching. He was demonstrating to them—and to us—what true faith in the Father Almighty actually looks like. He was teaching that storms are going to do what storms do—rage—but you, no matter what appearance the storms in your life may take, can rest secure in the Father’s arms, knowing—not just believing—but knowing that the Father Almighty will see you through. It’s not about the storms that blow out there—you can’t change them; they will do what they do—instead, it’s about the storms that blow within your soul, and you can do something about them. True faith says, “Regardless of what I know in my mind, regardless of what I see with my eyes, and even regardless of the final outcome, there is God, and where God is… How did David put it?”
“If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light about me be night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you (Psalm 139:8-12).
“I think, therefore I am.” “I will turbocharge my faith.” No. Faith is not about “I.” Faith is relational. “We walk by faith, not by sight.” Faith is a life walking with God and a life transformed by that relationship. If we walk by what we can see, the storm will terrify us; therefore, we walk by what we cannot see. That is faith.
Such faith is a grace, a gift from God. Do you need more of this faith? Then follow the example of the disciples. Ask Jesus for more—“Lord, increase our faith!” “Lord, all I can see is the storm. Help me to see you. Help me to know how to lie down in the bow of the boat next to you and rest in the Father’s arms. Help me to grow more deeply into a relationship with You.”
That is faith; however, there is more to this walk with God, for St. Paul also tells us, “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). Question: What is this hope he speaks of?
Let us pray: Lord God, grant us the faith to know Your will, the hope to accept it, and the love to do it, even when we don’t understand, trusting that Your way is best. We ask this through Christ Our Lord. Amen.
Cultural anthropology studies various cultures and identifies their differences. One way to categorize cultures is by whether they are driven by guilt, shame, or fear.
A guilt culture emphasizes law and judgment. Most people in such societies aim to have a clear conscience. Am I following the laws of the land and the moral standards accepted by most? A shame culture focuses on maintaining honor to avoid dishonor. Am I being viewed favorably by those around me? A fear culture involves living in the shadow of physical intimidation. Am I at risk of being physically harmed for my actions?
In the United States, we live under the first—guilt culture. Throughout history, we have developed the law of the land and built a moral code based on what we understand as Biblical teaching. The fear culture can be seen in countries like North Korea or Iran, where people fear retribution and do what is expected of them. In countries like Japan and China, culture is rooted in shame and honor—a fear of losing “face.”
In the Middle East today and during the time of Jesus, this shame and honor culture was, and still is, the main factor influencing people’s behavior. I admit, this is a new way for me to read and understand Holy Scripture, but the evidence of Jesus’ words and those of Paul and the others suggests that Jesus was much more focused on honor than on establishing strict moral laws.
Jesus said, “The Father judges no one but has given all judgment to the Son, so that all may honor the Son just as they honor the Father. Anyone who does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.” Jesus did not say, “Whoever does this and does not do that (law/judgment) will receive eternal life.” Jesus said, “Whoever believes my words and honors me and honors the Father will receive eternal life.” So the question is, how do we honor Jesus? Answer: We do what Jesus had been doing. What had Jesus been doing?
Leading up to these words, Jesus had healed a paralytic who had been crippled for thirty-eight years. Because he was a paralytic and sick, people assumed the man or his parents must have sinned greatly. Being sick brought him great shame. Jesus healed him and restored his honor. Similarly, Jesus healed a boy who was near death. There was also the Samaritan woman at the well. She had faced much shame—five divorces and now living with a man. Given the culture and the hostility between Jews and Samaritans, Jesus honored her simply by speaking to her. Still, through their conversation, he took her shame and restored her dignity, both to herself and to her community.
In the end, Jesus endured the shame of the cross (cf. Hebrews 12:2) to remove our shame and, in turn, granted us the greatest honor—He made us God’s children.
How do we honor Jesus? By working to restore the honor of others, fulfilling our Baptismal Vows—seeking to serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves, striving for justice and peace among all people, and respecting the dignity of every human being. We honor Jesus and the Father by honoring those we encounter.
The reign of Queen Victoria, known as the Victorian Era of the British Empire, lasted from 1837 to 1901. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens primarily focuses on the French Revolution; however, Dickens, an Englishman, had Victorian London and its issues in mind while writing that great novel. He recognized that what was happening in Paris could very easily happen in London too, so the beginning of the book references both Paris and London and aptly captures the spirit of the Victorian Era. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
During that era, there was a focus on morality, proper conduct, and manners. Therefore, Victorian etiquette was sometimes quite charming—we could still use some of it today—while at other times, downright silly.
One rule that was once good and should still be followed, although with the rise of smartwatches, it would never be reinstated, was: “Pulling out your watch in company unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill breeding… If at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wish them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. If you want to know the time, withdraw.” On the sillier side, we have, “A lady should not ever say ‘my husband,’ except among intimates; in every other case she should always address him by his name, calling him ‘Mr.’ It is equally proper, except on occasions of ceremony, and while she is quite young, to designate him by his Christian name. Never use the initial of a person’s name to designate him; as ‘Mr. P.,’ ‘Mr. L.,’ etc. Nothing is so odious as to hear a lady speak of her husband, or, indeed, anyone else, as ‘Mr. B.’”
All of these rules point to a society governed by various regulations that are followed by many—primarily the elite—and scorned by others as being foolish. However, rules and laws, written or otherwise, have always been a fundamental part of any society. Aristotle noted, “At his best, man is the noblest of all animals; separated from law and justice, he is the worst.”
Today, we continue our study of the seven Heavenly Virtues. As you’ll recall, they are made up of the four Cardinal Virtues and the three Theological Virtues. In particular, today, we’ll look at temperance and prudence. Together, these speak of reason and wisdom in creating, applying, and observing laws and rules.
Technically, “Prudence is the virtue that disposes practical reason to discern our true good in every circumstance and to choose the right means of achieving it. It is not to be confused with timidity or fear, nor with duplicity or dissimulation. It is called auriga virtutum (the charioteer of the virtues); it guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure. It immediately guides the judgment of conscience.” “Temperance is the moral virtue that moderates the attraction of pleasures and provides balance in the use of created goods. It ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable. The temperate person directs the sensitive appetites toward what is good and maintains a healthy discretion.” Those are the technical definitions and are supported by Holy Scripture, yet when I think about them in a less technical way, I think of paint-by-numbers.
As a kid, I’m sure most of us did dome paint-by-numbers. You’d get a nice 8×12 image of a bluebird or a dog and a dozen or so small pods of paint, along with a single paintbrush. They were fun and fairly simple projects. Now, as an adult, I’ve rediscovered paint-by-numbers. I have no idea why, but I can spend hours searching for 17s and be perfectly content. I recently finished my first one, and an example of that project is on the bulletin cover.
These are not the paint-by-numbers you did as a kid. Although it looks fairly complicated, this particular project is classified as beginner. How involved have I become? I have purchased an easel, scores of brushes, clear gesso to prepare the canvas before painting, and sealer for when it’s finished. I have watched hours of YouTube videos and studied techniques. Long story short: although I haven’t reached obsession level, I do invest a significant amount of time. The bonus: it’s cheaper than collecting antique cars.
Technically, prudence “guides the other virtues by setting rule and measure.” In paint-by-numbers, prudence is best represented by the lines. Let’s say that #17 is red. When you are painting 17s without any other color around it, you’ll have an odd-shaped patch of red in the middle of a field of white canvas. That odd-shaped patch of red might seem meaningless at first. It is just there. However, when finished, you might realize it’s part of the lips of the main subject. In the short term, the adherence to the lines, the rule of prudence, may not make much sense, but in the long term, without following the rules, something is amiss. Prudence, the lines, guide everything else.
Temperance “ensures the will’s mastery over instincts and keeps desires within the limits of what is honorable.” In the world of paint-by-numbers, which can be even more challenging with a cat that enjoys swatting at your brush, temperance is twofold. First, it means staying within the lines that prudence provides. Remember the first coloring a young child proudly delivers as a masterpiece? The page has a printed image of a floppy-eared bunny. The child, in their innocence, has taken the brightest of all the crayons, gripped them in one hand, and created a fine rendition of a Jackson Pollock. In paint-by-numbers, you can do the same—throw paint everywhere—and, though this is no judgment of your artistic flair, you too can create a Pollock, but you will never end up with the image you intended.
The second part of temperance is using the right color. I have a new project in progress. This one has much more vibrant colors than the last. When I got home Wednesday night, I sat down and started working on #6. However, at some point, I got it in my pointy little head that I was working on #16, and away I went. Then, things started to make no sense. Trusting the process, I pressed on for a while longer, but then it just started to look wrong. #6 is a nice olive green. #16 is a rather bright orange. Had I desired it, I could have continued, but instead, I went back and painted over what I had done with the correct color, and the image began to emerge once again. St. Paul tells us, “‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things are helpful. ‘All things are lawful,’ but not all things build up” (1 Corinthians 10:23). Temperance: just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should.
Together, temperance and prudence speak of wisdom and reason in creating, applying, and following laws and rules. Adhere to the rules and laws, and in the end, you’ll likely end up with a fairly nice picture. You can see for yourself how I did. The finished painting is hanging in the lounge.
These two virtues, temperance and prudence, along with the two we discussed a few weeks ago—fortitude (spiritual courage) and justice (seeking the common good)—supported by humility, are known as the Cardinal Virtues. St. Augustine helps us understand their purpose and how they function together. “As to virtue leading us to a happy life, I hold virtue to be nothing else than perfect love of God. For the fourfold division of virtue, I regard as taken from four forms of love… So we may express the definition thus: that temperance is love keeping itself entire and incorrupt for God; fortitude is love bearing everything readily for the sake of God; justice is love serving God only, and therefore ruling well all else, as subject to man; prudence is love making a right distinction between what helps it towards God and what might hinder it.” (Source)
To live such a life and to love in such a way isn’t always easy, but it does not lead to a life void of color or flavor. Instead, it represents the highest calling and the fulfillment of who we were created to be. St. Peter writes, “Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:12). By practicing the Cardinal Virtues, we are well on our way to living such a life, but three more virtues are needed—the Theological Virtues of faith, hope, and love. As for these, I say… to be continued.
Let us pray (from St. Thomas Aquinas): Plant in me, O Lord, all virtues: that I may be devoted to divine things, provident in human affairs, and troublesome to no one in bodily cares. Grant me, O Lord, fervour in contrition, sincerity in confession, and completeness in satisfaction. Deign to direct my soul to a good life: that what I do may be pleasing to Thee, meritorious for myself, and edifying to my neighbour. Amen.
The brother and I had the opportunity to do a bit of exploring around Charlotte, North Carolina.
A happy discovery and one we came upon by accident was the Belmont Abbey College.
Mission and Vision from the website…
Belmont Abbey College educates students in the liberal arts and sciences so that in all things God may be glorified. We are guided by the Catholic intellectual tradition and rooted in the Benedictine hallmarks. Both inside and outside the classroom, we provide programs that foster virtue and excellence, which is another reason why we stand among the top Catholic colleges in the country.
There was an event taking place on campus but we did get to go into the sanctuary and tour parts of the campus (including the inside of the bookstore!) Tap the image to enlarge.
We then made our way to the Daniel Stowe (textile magnate) Botanical Garden, consisting of 380 acres of trails, gardens, fountains, shops, and the William Conservatory, housing a collection of orchids and tropical plants.
There was a fun fountain where we took time for a selfie and a mad dash. I got rather wet but it was refreshing.
Then to see the orchids.
Chocolate OrchidDancing Lady OrchidArthurara Sea Snake Orchid (I immediately thought of the bugs in Starship Troopers!)StickpeaVariety of Moth OrchidsHappy little Daffodil
A nice adventure and great to visit with the brother for a day.
To continue our discussion of the Heavenly Virtues, I have a true story for you. It is a long one, so bear with me. I suspect most of you know some of the details.
In October 1962, a U.S. U-2 spy plane flew over Cuba and snapped a few photos of activity on the ground. Those images led to thirteen days of intense global tension, particularly between the U.S. and the former USSR. It was the Cuban Missile Crisis.
The U.S. deployed nuclear missiles in the UK, Turkey, and Italy. The Soviets returned the favor of close proximity by laying the groundwork to place nuclear missiles in Cuba. Many of President John F. Kennedy’s advisors pushed for an invasion of Cuba; however, Kennedy took a less aggressive approach and instituted a naval blockade around the island, preventing the deployment of missiles from Russia.
It worked, and the Russians reversed course. The U.S. missiles in Europe would also eventually be removed as part of the brokered deal to resolve the issue. This is the story most of us are familiar with; however, over the last week or two, I learned some additional, scarier details about the events.
Those of you who were aware of what was going on probably remember Kennedy’s October 22 speech, in which he stated, “It shall be the policy of this nation to regard any nuclear missile launched from Cuba against any nation in the Western Hemisphere as an attack by the Soviet Union on the United States, requiring a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union.” On October 27, also known as Black Saturday, the Soviets planned to complete the installation of the missiles. As part of the overall program, the Soviets were sending in 40,000 troops, along with support equipment, and four diesel submarines—B4, B36, B59, and B130—to patrol the waters around Cuba. Each of these submarines carried 22 torpedoes.
During their sail through the North Atlantic, the subs encountered severe storms and sustained significant damage to the boats. The crew was reported to have been injured, yet they arrived, though not without being detected. On Black Saturday, the US let them know that the US was aware of their presence, especially B59, by dropping echo-ranging depth bombs. These were not designed to destroy the submarine, only to keep tabs on where the submarine was located under the waters. However, having lost all communications with Moscow because of their depth, B59’s captain and crew believed they were under attack and that WWIII had begun. Now, for the scary surprise.
Those four Soviet submarines carried 22 torpedoes each, but only the Soviets knew that on each sub, one of those torpedoes was armed with a 15-kiloton nuclear warhead (about the same size as the bomb exploded at Hiroshima). To make that situation even more horrifying, the submarine’s captain, in agreement with the submarine’s political officer, had full authority to launch the nuclear torpedo without first gaining approval from Moscow. And, just to throw in a bit more to keep you up at night, the B59’s captain and political officer had in fact approved the launch. To add a bit of incentive, the sub’s cooling system and air filtration unit were damaged and dead. The sub was filling up with CO2. Without surfacing, they had less than an hour to live, but to surface—or so they feared—was to be blown out of the water by the U.S. The captain, now suffering from the effects of the CO2, tension, and nerves, said, “The war has already started up there, and we are down here doing somersaults. We’re going to blast them now. We’ll die, but we will sink them all. We won’t disgrace our Navy or shame the fleet.”
They were going to fire a nuclear torpedo that would have destroyed the entire U.S. fleet in the vicinity in a single blinding flash. JFK had already promised to retaliate if something like that occurred and had prepped and aimed 3,000 nuclear warheads at 1,000 targets in the Soviet Union. If the U.S. fired theirs, the USSR would fire theirs. All bets were off. The world was literally minutes away from a full-scale nuclear war. What prevented it? Better question: Who prevented it?
Remember, it only took the captain and the political officer to approve the launch, but aboard B59—and not on any other boats—was a third officer who outranked the captain, so his vote was also needed to launch. That person was Captain Second Rank Vasili Arkhipov.
In the face of all that was happening, the anxiety and terror of the detonations taking place around them, and the pressure from those around him, Vasili said, “No.” He insisted that they break radio silence, surface, and get a message to Moscow before proceeding. His argument and authority won the day.
While underwater, they had the means to send a very local message that was received by the U.S. ship above. The message: “This ship belongs to the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Halt your provocative actions.” How did the U.S. command respond? Why, they apologized. B59 surfaced, received word from Moscow that they were not at war, and limped back home.
The history books that cover these events indicate that it was Captain Second Rank Vasili Arkhipov who single-handedly prevented all-out nuclear war and the start of WWIII.
The Heavenly Virtue of fortitude is defined as “the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. It strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life. The virtue of fortitude enables one to conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions. It disposes one even to renounce and sacrifice his life in defense of a just cause.”
The Heavenly Virtue of Justice is defined as “the constant and firm will to give their due to God and neighbor. Justice toward God is called the ‘virtue of religion.’ Justice toward men disposes one to respect the rights of each and to establish in human relationships the harmony that promotes equity with regard to persons and to the common good.”
If you want to see a visual depiction of what these two virtues look like, look at the picture of Captain Second Rank Vasili Arkhipov on the cover of your bulletin. I have no idea whether the man was a Christian; there is no evidence to confirm it either way, but I will guarantee you this: for a person of his character to be placed in that position, on that submarine, at that time, and to have the fortitude to do what he did—what did Mordecai say to Queen Esther? “Who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?”
Vasili is reported to have been a shy and humble man, and so, perhaps through the overarching virtue of humility, he was able, through God’s grace, to practice the Heavenly Virtues of fortitude and justice. For that, we give thanks, but what about us today?
Questions we are asked at baptism: “Will you persevere in resisting evil… Will you strive for justice and peace among all people?” Rephrased: When evil, in all its various forms, comes against you, and when the pressure to give in is great, will you practice the virtue of fortitude so that justice might be served, not according to your own ideas of justice, but according to God’s? Will you do so so that all people will rightly be served, cared for, and given the opportunity to live and to thrive? You see, it is very easy to practice fortitude and justice when it comes to your own ideologies, beliefs about right and wrong, and other dearly held tenets, but what about when justice for another runs in the face of those same ideas? Will you humble yourself, set aside your ideas and beliefs, and serve the other? Or will you cave to the demands of others and the pressures exerted by the world around you?
As followers of Jesus, we must pray for humility so that we may practice fortitude and act justly toward all. This is our calling, for Jesus said, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”
Let us pray: Heavenly Father, flood the path before us with light, turn our eyes to where the skies are full of promise; tune our hearts to brave music; give us a sense of comradeship with the heroes and saints of every age; and so quicken our spirits that we may encourage the souls of all who journey with us on the road of life, to your honor and glory. Amen.
Candle in a Cave 