Jul 29

The Body's Forgotten Ally: A Brief Defense of Corporal Mortification

discipline1

It's an interesting question.
Did Leonardo wear a cilice or use a discipline? Though not mentioned in Dan Brown's popular fantasy novel, The Da Vinci Code -- with its bizarre and misleading description of corporal mortification -- and granting Leonardo a certain religious fervor, it's possible.

The cilice, a sharp chain worn around the leg, is really a derivation of the ancient hair shirt, which originated in the region of Cilicia in Asia Minor. It was used for many centuries in the medieval and Renaissance Church as a means of purifying the senses, atoning for sin, and winning grace for others. So too was the discipline, a whip of knotted cords applied to the back, imitating Christ's scourging at the pillar. One of Leonardo's contemporaries, St. Thomas More of England, wore a hair shirt under his garb as Lord Chancellor of England. He also used the discipline.

Mortification is an unpleasant word to the contemporary ear. For many, it has something vaguely to do with "being embarrassed" -- but it also conjures up pain, humiliation, even cruelty. This is hardly surprising: What isn't understood often produces shock and incredulity. In our world of high tension, uncertainty, and psychological stress, why would any sane person welcome more affliction?

Despite all this, voluntary mortification has an enduring power for both the body and soul. Self-denial helps a person overcome both psychological and physical weakness, gives him inner energy, helps him grow in virtue, and ultimately leads to salvation. It conquers the insidious demons of softness, pessimism, and lukewarm faith that dominate the lives of so many today.

In contrast to the extremes of sadism or masochism, corporal mortification is grounded in a healthy view of man and the world around him, namely, that all of us are flawed and have sinful tendencies within us. The practice itself dates back to biblical times and finds its greatest expression in the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.

But corporal mortification isn't confined to Christians. Most religions throughout the centuries have recognized the need for powerful, even bloody sacrifices to appease the divine. At times, these sacrifices were grossly immoral -- the Aztecs' offering of their human victims' hearts to their gods, for example. Others involved extensive fasting, as in the case of Ramadan in the Muslim world; or elaborate rites of purification along with the sacrifice of certain animals, as the Jews did for centuries before 70 A.D. There are also many passages in the Hebrew Scriptures that speak of wearing sackcloth and ashes as a way of obtaining favors and atoning for sin. The enduring message of the various practices is the same: Nothing valuable in this life is obtained without some voluntary sacrifice and suffering.

The postmodern world readily endorses the practice of voluntary pain regarding sports and physical fitness. Many admire those who adhere to long and rigorous diet and exercise regimens. Others endure painful, costly surgeries to add a few years to their lives. Some also find value in fasting and long days of labor to promote noble social causes, like solidarity with disenfranchised groups. Yet we've become strangely blinded to the great spiritual benefit of mortification and sacrifice for the sake of God and one's own soul.

We cannot lay the blame for this entirely on individual selfishness or blindness. For almost 400 years, the Western world has been infected with the philosophical disease of subjectivism, which encourages people to value their own perceptions over what is objectively true. The net result is that God and His commands have been refashioned upon man's view of Him, not upon His view of man. If there's no higher power beyond one's own mind and feelings, then the whole idea of voluntary mortification will obviously seem absurd: Why die to yourself, if your self is the only thing that really exists?

Materialism and relativism also have much to do with our flight from God and penance. In a world where material things and pleasures are glamorized and made into the very objects of life, the spiritual life grows distant indeed. If there are no standards of right or wrong, then there's no compelling need for individual sacrifice and mortification.

 

The word "mortification" comes from the Latin words mortem facere, meaning "to produce death." A person who is mortified has accomplished a kind of death in himself to those obstacles separating him from God, and therefore genuine happiness. These barriers include pride, the excessive emphasis on the self or one's own feelings or ideas; laziness, the tendency to do the minimum; and sensuality, the excessive attachment to bodily pleasures, whether food, or drink, or sex. Mortification is the process of "putting to death" these lower desires and appetites so that the purified man might live.

cilice2Very close to their Savior in time and experience, the first Christians practiced much voluntary sacrifice and mortification, and the penances they did for sin were extraordinary. Hair shirts date back to the ancient Church and were worn by both priests and lay people. Sts. Jerome, Athanasius, and John Damascene all bear witness to its use. The first monks and hermits in the desert, from the third century onward, themselves practiced severe austerities; they were to have a profound influence on the spiritual development of the Church.

Of course, there were abuses in the use of corporal mortification -- one thinks here of the flagellants of certain fanatical sects in 14th-century Italy and Germany, which were condemned by the Church repeatedly. But with greater judgment, the saints knew how to combine love for God and others with the most painful mortifications. It was their purity of purpose and burning love for Christ that made their sacrifices so powerful. St. Francis of Assisi, and more recently Padre Pio, were favored with the stigmata of Christ's own wounds. St. Catherine of Siena wore a sackcloth and would scourge herself three times a day in imitation of St. Dominic. St. Ignatius of Loyola, who recommended a spirit of "continual mortification" to his brethren, wore a hair shirt and heavy iron chain. Even St. Thérèse of Lisieux, famous for her "little way" and her love for God and others, fasted and used the discipline vigorously, "scourging herself with all the strength and speed of which she was capable, smiling at the crucifix through the tears which bedewed her eyelashes," according to one biographer.

The ultimate strength and effectiveness of all Christian mortification lies, of course, in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on Calvary. "And I, if I be lifted from the earth, I will draw all things to myself," He said. Uniting themselves to His pain and blood, the saints -- and those earnestly trying to become saints -- have always recognized that they had to die to themselves, sometimes in very dramatic and painful ways, in order to gain eternal life. They did not perform painful sacrifices because they thought the body was evil. This would be the heresy of Manicheism, long condemned by the Church. Matter and the human body are not evil in themselves, but because of the body's substantial unity with the soul, it's often the staging ground for a person's inordinate desires. As a result, the saints knew that their unruly tendencies needed to be corrected and purified.

 

But let's go even further. It's clear that simply being a good person requires some kind of mortification. If a man doesn't control his anger or resentment, he'll be impossible to live with, and may even end up a murderer. Furthermore, if a person doesn't know how to deny his excessive desire for alcohol, he'll become useless to himself and others. The child who wants to pass his exam must say no to, or at least postpone, his desire to watch television or play computer games. There is enduring human and divine wisdom in Christ's powerful words: "For unless the grain of wheat die to itself, it shall not produce fruit."

St. Thomas More coined the English word "atone" by combining two words, "at one," to produce one meaning "to reconcile opposing sides of a conflict." One of the most powerful effects of mortification is the atonement for sin. Indeed, this is the central meaning of the Jewish feast Yom Kippur. Since all sin is a kind of violation of the order of things -- whether that of justice, chastity, or human life itself -- there's a need to repair that order, in very much the same way that one is obliged to repair a broken window. Mortification or voluntary suffering restores that order, both in relation to God, who has been offended, and to the person's own soul, which has been hurt by the sin committed.

St. Paul describes in an existential and vivid way his own battle with himself. It is a conflict that sincere men and women of all centuries and social classes will recognize: "For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from the body of this death?"

The root cause of this rebellion goes back to the origins of the human race, to what Catholics call original sin: It is the wound in human nature that produces disordered passions and desires that must be controlled and even punished at times -- much as you must hammer straight a wire that is twisted. Paul describes just such a punishment when he compares the spiritual life to an athletic contest. To win the contest, one must be hard on oneself and refuse to succumb to the soft weakness of the flesh: "I do not run aimlessly, I do not box as one beating the air; but I pommel my body and subdue it, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified."

Despite the tremendous good that mortification can do for a person -- within the proper limits and under the guidance of a good spiritual guide -- it will always be a shock. When he learned of the coming crucifixion, Peter reacted as any human would: "God forbid, Lord, that this should ever happen to you!" Yet had it not, the human race would not have been redeemed. Given our own weakness and lack of spiritual vision, we rebel at the demands of life. Not only great mortifications but also the smaller ones will seem unpleasant to us -- getting up on time, beginning work punctually, smiling when we are annoyed. But therein lies the challenge and the glory of it.

When speaking of sacrifice to the pagan world, Paul faced the same disbelief we witness today. His words are charged with irony, energized by his own suffering: "Where is the wise man? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?... But we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men."

Perhaps this great Pauline insight explains why many of today's elites cannot -- or will not -- grasp the real value of penance. Or why so many in the popular media make mortification material for lurid news stories, when it's really meant to be performed in silence, for the love of God and others.

Humanly, it's inexplicable that a person could be deeply joyful in the midst of suffering. Yet the greatest saints -- who suffered the most for Christ -- have also been among the most joyful figures in history. Suffering offered generously for God and others liberates a person from his own miseries. Witnesses recorded that many of the early Christians actually sang as they were escorted to their deaths in the arena. That was the joy that brought down pagan Rome.

St. Josemaría Escrivá, who himself suffered many persecutions and misunderstandings, performed heroic mortifications and sacrifices to serve God and help souls. Through it all, he was able to maintain a cheerful and optimistic attitude that inspired those around him. "If things go well, let's rejoice, blessing God, who makes them prosper," he once wrote. "And if they go wrong? Let's rejoice, blessing God, who allows us to share the sweetness of his Cross."

Encouraging words.

 

This article originally appeared in the July/August 2005 issue of Crisis Magazine.
 
Photo credits: Cilice
 



Comments (25)

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Giving catholicism a bad name
People who write articles like this embarass the Catholic Church. It adds fuel to the firy claim that catholics are out of touch, living in the middle ages and focused on the "flesh". A God of Love does not require self mortiifcation.....If oyu want to bring yourself closer to the ideals of CFhrist go hug someone!
Gus Delaney , July 29, 2010
Question Regarding Mortification
I'm in my thirties and when I workout I do Olympic weightlifting. Its really hard, and I hate doing it, and its not to make me look good (for its pretty much the opposite of bodybuilding...it makes you strong but not ripped).

My question is this. It is extremely physically taxing. Worse than running. Worse than the "work outs" done by 99% of Americans. When I do it, I tend to pray and I offer up each set. When I'm done, I am on the floor usually in pain.

Does that count? I'm begin completely serious on this.
Bruce , July 29, 2010
St. Therese
Where did you find that anecdote about St. Therese? In Story of a Soul, she writes that she couldn't do physical mortification because she would get sick. Specifically, she states that she used to wear an iron cross with spikes on it and she got so sick she had to stop wearing it. I thought that this is why she created her "little way"...because she couldn't do great deeds. Please correct me if I'm wrong, I'm just confused! smilies/smiley.gif
Confused , July 30, 2010
with regard,...
with regard to a topic that has been rarely discussed (if ever) in my ear-shot, it IS interesting to read an unabashed presentation giving the historical support for this now relatively obscured (and poo-pooed) tradition,...the original framework, assumptions, and unabashed justifications sing their tune of praise (and almost glory!) from another era,..."o, holy mortification of the flesh,"...

given the extent of fleshly and demonic debauchery that we now see the world fast sinking into, perhaps it begins to make some sense both as a deterrent and "just punishment,"...perhaps its "time" is coming again,...

although it certainly is pretty much an obscure and odd concept to me, i'm catching an almost poetic sense of spiritual satisfaction with an identification with Christ in suffering, that may very well transcend its seeming peculiarity,...

if nothing else, as "the flesh" is certainly running rampant these days--with almost "no holds barred"--its reappearance does seem a bit timely and almost refreshing (at least expiating), in this very negative context of our devolving trajectory back down to the cultural themes of Sodom and Gomorrah,...

given the aging challenges to my flesh, i'd take "the Little Flower's" Little Way any day,...

and i would also hope that a true fruit of joy--i guess i would suppose that this would be joy in transcending the pull of the flesh and uniting with Christ "on the Cross"--rather than a perpetual dourness, would be a result,...

although things ARE really getting so bad, that maybe some serious perpetual dourness is in order,...

i would have to say that it is very interesting how limited our understanding is of these things,...mine, anyway,...
georgie-ann , July 30, 2010
...
I've read several biographies of St. Therese and they all say she took a rather dim view of mortification. In her time, French Catholicism was influenced by Jansenism and physical mortification, above and beyond that sanctioned by the Carmelite rule was encouraged. That was not Therese's way. It's not mine either, although I do fast.
Ellen , July 30, 2010
...
I have two points:

First, in terms of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, I'd consider what is said by her on humble confidence:

"It is true that instinctively we seek to climb the rough stairway of perfection instead of taking the gentle elevator of the arms of Jesus. This is because we have been told so often of our miseries. We have been told, and rightly, that we are miserable; and then, we have been told about Jesus that He is good, yes, but not enough that He is wondrously good, infinitely good, infinite charity. No one has told us at the same time that He is Savior before He is Judge and that, in the Heart of God, 'justice and peace have embraced'.

We have been trained in the habit of looking at our dark side, our ugliness, and not at the purifying Sun, Light of Light, which He is, who changes the dust that we are into pure gold. We think about examining ourselves, yet we do not think, before the examination, during the examination, and after the examination, to plunge ourselves, with all our miseries, into the consuming and transforming furnace of His Heart, which is open to us through a humble act of confidence.

I am not telling you, 'You believe too much in your own wretchedness.' We are much more wretched than we ever realize. But I am telling you, 'You do not believe enough in mercuful love.'

We must have confidence, not in spite of our miseries, but because of them, since it is misery which attracts mercy.

Oh, this word, mercy -- misericordia -- 'miseris cor dare,' a Heart which gives itself to the miserable, a Heart which nourishes itself on miseries by consuming them. Mediate on this word.

St. Thomas says that 'to have mercy belongs to the nature of God, and it is in this that His omnipotence manifests itself in the highest degree.'

Yes, I sense that even if I had on my conscience all the sins which can be committed, I would go, my heart broken, to repent and throw myself into the arms of Jesus, for I know how much He cherishes the prodigal child who returns to Him. It is not because the dear Lord in His provident mercy has preserved my soul from mortal sin that I am lifted up to Him by confidence and love.'

Secondly, perhaps mortification in the way this article describes is a pleasing thing in the eyes of God. Perhpas it's necessary even. But I have a hard time reconciling this emphasis on doing an outstanding x, y and z in order to get right with God when we have 'learned' recently through St. Faustina especially of how much God wants to give us, how much He wants our righteousness to be His own, how He wants us to be children who depend on Him for everything, etc.

And with St. Thérèse too, it's the same way. She herself said she set out to find a totally new path of holiness, so I don't think it's accurate to lump her into the rest of the names big on this type of mortification as if that was her path.

Did the old monks and other ascetics big on this mortification have it right all along and we've softened up? Or perhaps were they somewhat misguided, though genuine of course, in their knowledge of what pleases God? Is Divine Mercy and the way of trust really "Plan A" that has taken us so long to accept and realize or was it a "Plan B" since the world has become so soft and so far away from obedience and penance and such that the old monks and ascetics used to practice?

Perhaps neither?

These are the important questions to me, as I simply don't see how we can look at the revelations of Divine Mercy and not wonder where mortification in the way described above fits in with it all.
Pete , July 30, 2010
...
I find this emphasis on self infliction of pain, and punishing of the body to be in conflict with the Gospel message. First of all, Jesus took upon himself the chastisement for our sins. We cannot add to that or pay for our sins by punishing ourselves. Secondly, The Holy Spirit works from the inside out, and causes the heart to be changed so that the individual desires the same thing that Our Lord desires. The change of heart produces the fruits of the Holy Spirit: love, joy , peace, patience, kindness, etc. Based on personal experience, this kind of heart change works a lot better than completing a laundry list of painful external acts.

Fasting is the only thing Jesus ever recommended in the way of personal deprivation. That , combined with prayer seems to have some sort of powerful effect in the Heavenlies. Besides, we are also told that our bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit, and we are to care for them. Deliberately causing pain does not make any sense, regardless of how many saints did this.
B.B. , July 30, 2010
Self mortification
Pope John Paul II would sometimes sleep on the hard floor, rather than his more comfortable bed. He would unmake the bed so the maid would not know that he had slept on the floor. He did not want other people to know that he was doing this, perhaps because he knew they might find it strange. JP II knew if the secular media ever found this out, they would try to make him out to be weird.
Smart man.
Austin , July 30, 2010
In Response to "Giving Catholicism a Bad Name"
I missed the passage in scripture that says "Put down your cross and go hug someone"
Bert , July 30, 2010
In Response to Naysayers about Mortification
How many of the saints that we are so fond of refused to practice mortification? Your arguments are weak.

Consider St. Thomas More, he lost his head with his hair shirt on. Do you think that perhaps it was this constant mortification (small suffering)that allowed him to have the fortitude to stand trial and die "as the King's good servant, but God's first?'

Oh to have the guts to be a martyr for the Lord! Oh to have the grace to mortify my flesh in preparation for a happy death. To be united more fully to the Passion of the Lord is the saint's one true goal in this world because His Passion brings us life eternal.
Andy F. , July 30, 2010
question
My question about mortification is that don't you have to be in an advanced spiritual state before you undertake it? That was my understanding of it anyway. If I ever got to the point where I easily prayed at least one a hour a day continuously (St Thomas Moore prayed much more than that), then and only then would I try these physical penances. Or do you think these mortification practices would help a beginner advance his spiritual state (chicken or egg question)? Your thoughts?

HannahG
HannahG , July 30, 2010
not well acquainted with this topic, but,...
i'm not well acquainted with this topic, but there are times that in obedience to the Lord, in the spirit of prayer, that i resist the natural inclinations of my body to make itself "comfortable," mainly for the reason that to cater to my body's whims and impulses would end up becoming a distraction to the focus of the prayer, at that time,...it does feel like a sacrifice and an obedience at the time, that isn't really coming naturally, and as such is a bit of a mortification of the flesh, hopefully in the service of something higher,...such as: a long period of time spent in kneeling--(not always comfortable, ultimately)--in prayer before the Blessed Sacrament,...

i can imagine that mortification of the flesh in some deliberate and purposeful way could have different reasons or foci, depending on the individual(s) involved:

(1) a person struggling with a strong and stubborn rebellious element in their own make-up, might see this as a way to exert some personal resistance to the problem, while imploring God's grace for deliverance,...i have no idea if this effective, but maybe it could be,...

(2) it also seems possible that someone dedicated to prayer as intercession for the imperfections of oneself AND for others, might accept intentional physical punishment "on behalf" of not only oneself, but also on behalf of those "who could care less" about surrendering their lives and deeds to God's will,...it strikes me that this day and age is rapidly becoming a season where this focus might pick up some "big-time" momentum, since nothing else really seems to "work" or be sufficiently effective--our cries for repentance seemingly falling on "deaf" and very resistant "ears,"...

(3) then, of course, for the ecstatic ones among us, to be identified with Christ in such deep union with the stripes He bore on behalf of all mankind, how much better does it get?,...(this is a very theoretical perception on my part--not something that i have tried,...just trying to deal with life as it presents itself daily, has always been quite enough of a challenge for me),...

so, just as Christ "took our place on the Cross," we can be free to offer ourselves to take the place of others in intercession in various ways,...a good spiritual director and good teaching on this is probably very well-advised, in order to create a firm foundation,...although i've always found that a certain amount of prayer, intercession, contemplation, and "spiritual warfare" issues that push the envelope a bit, are learned "on the job, by our bootstraps," so-to-speak,...always remembering that "God is Good,"...
georgie-ann , July 30, 2010
mortification is necessary
Mortification is actually required form the very beginning of the spiritual life right up to one's physical death.

If anyone is interested in reading more on this, a good book I've found that's tremendously helpful is "Spiritual Theology" by Fr. Jordan Aumann O.P.(the book is online, http://www.domcentral.org/stud...efault.htm), particularly chapter 7 of part 2. It explains it all in good detail!

Now just to be clear, mortification is not simply harming or inflicting physical pain on our bodies by instruments of penance (things of this sort require the guidance of the confessor). It not just inflicting pain so we can be like Jesus either - it actually has a much more practical value in relation to the body and the spirit as I'll try to explain below.

Mortification generally speaking is the active inflicting of discomfort, or, the active deprivation of legitimate pleasures toward the body with the goal of submitting our unruly tendencies to the rule of reason enlightened by faith (thus we aim to ultimately "die" towards these tendencies meaning we don't allow them to come in our way towards our goal of complete union with Christ). Just to show a concrete application of how all this works, take for example our tendencies towards eating good food. We see a delicious piece of cake but we know we shouldn't eat it because we've already eaten too much, but we feel the pull or tendency to eat it (in other words, we're tempted to commit the sin of gluttony). That intense feeling we have is the tendency. The reason why we're pulled towards something we know we shouldn't do is a result of original sin; and the unruly tendency itself is called concupiscence. We might think to ourselves at the moment we experience the pull towards eating that cake, "well, we shouldn't eat this...it would be a sin...there would be spiritual and physical consequences...I could offer it up...etc..." This would be an example of reason enlightened by faith, and we can choose to follow it or disregard it. Most of the time, however, we give into our bodily tendencies and so we become slaves to them. In order to over come this habit we need mortification (It was St. Francis De Sales who said that "prayer without mortification is dead"). Mortification in this case can take on many forms. It can take on the form of simply resolving not to eat anything outside of meal time, or, maybe taking a certain side-dish during meals that one doesn't naturally like; or even by performing a fast from time to time by skipping one meal, say on a Friday. The whole point of this? It's like doing to the will what weightlifting does to the muscles. It makes it stronger by habitually depriving your body of what it naturally tends towards (pleasure), so that when fierce temptations come your way, you are thus spiritually equipped and trained. All the saints were unanimous on this point: mortification is absolutely necessary for all if you want to become holy. To disregard mortification in the spiritual life is like praying to God to make you into a good athlete without expecting to go through a painful workout. In the spiritual life, mortification is equivalent to a workout in the gym.

Again, all saints did this, even St. Therese. A quote from her:

"from being like to those great souls who from their childhood practise all sorts of macerations, I made my mortification consist solely in the breaking of my will, restraining a hasty word, rendering little services to those around me without making anything of it, and a thousand other things of this kind."

She lists just some of her mortification here, http://www.archive.org/stream/.../mode/2up, page 82.
M , July 31, 2010
dying to self,...
Ste. Therese: "I made my mortification consist solely in the breaking of my will, restraining..., rendering..., without making anything of it,..." (TY, M)

i think this is the main point,...dying to the cantankerous, unenlightened, self-willed, self-appeasing flesh/self (that we ALL have/are), IN ORDER THAT a higher point of view (spiritual), and awareness and understanding may begin to have its way within us,...our Joy will come from being "opened up to God and the universe" in Love for one another, that is impossible for the simply natural reactive being that we are without God's Grace and our cooperation with that Grace,...

John 12:24 "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain."
georgie-ann , August 01, 2010
Excellent article
Fr Giesler used to be my spiritual director and I can tell you from knowing him that he conveyed an attitude of joyfulness and cheerfulness every time I met with him. Perhaps the source of this grace would be the practice of voluntary mortification.

If only I could put some form of mortification into practice in my life on a consistent basis. smilies/cheesy.gif
Sam , August 02, 2010
...
Until recently, from an outsiders’ point of view, both OD and the Legionnaires seemed identical institutions. Both worshiped their founder, both had an outside appearance of orthodoxy, both had their ”charism” speedily approved by Rome, both brought political (mainly right wing) and great financial influence to the church. Both used similar recruiting techniques of young and focused on rich families. Both have lay movements, with “spiritual commitments” poorly defined canonically but with very real consequences to those that made them. The only difference seems to be that OD has instituted physical mortification. The question, from an outsiders’ point of view, does that make a difference? Discipline and self-sacrifice are critical. The sex abuse scandal and extensive cover up by bishops would not have happened if the church had more of both. But in themselves, are discipline and self-sacrifice sufficient? A good burglar has to be disciplined to perform well a heist. Aren’t discipline and self-sacrifice valid only as a necessary expression of our love of God and neighbor (starting with our families)? The cover up of Fr Maciel happened when OD was in full power in the curia. Why? What it to protect Maciel’s “assets” and influence? So what is the purpose of this excessive mortification in OD? Is it love of God and neighbor? Or is it part of the methodologies to control the environment of movement members by those in charge, to make them better serve the movement? Its it “the way” to give a “feeling” of self-justification to the members, the “feeling” that one can buy one’s ticket to “holiness”, while giving all of one’s resources to the movement? Isn’t our salvation a free gift from God, and that there is nothing we can ever do to deserve it? Shouldn’t our acts be not so much defined by our willingness to buy our salvation, but rather as a simple expression of our love and obedience to God? With these new outside-side pseudo-orthodox “spiritualities”, that use classic self-serving cult methodologies, the concern is that parts of the Church will continue to devolve to become similar to secular cults.
AT , August 03, 2010
AT,..
these are lines of distinction that are very clear to some, but--unfortunately--very blurry to others,...matters of religion, faith, true spirituality vs. cultism, leadership, follower-ship, obedience, trust, personal discernment, and on and on,...i do believe that developing true and deep spirituality will always involve a serious search, serious questions, fortuitous connections--a lot of "sifting of the sands"--if you will,...

in these cases, a person's path may develop in singular ways, and pass through many "stages"--not all of them "pure light"--because "we're all in this together" from beginning to end,...and we're all affected by one another,...(and we all haven't "arrived" yet),...

God will certainly know the "true seeker" and "lover of His own heart,"...He will guide and protect such a disciple, even through situations and experiences that are compromised in some ways,...(the wheat and the tares?),...God's Word(s) are true and still speak Truth to the listener, even when delivered by a less than perfect, less than enlightened, vessel,...

in "religion," some leaders do their leading cultic-ly,...they evidently like feeding on the power of the position,...but so also do some followers desire to be led in such a way, by someone "who has all the answers and knowledge for them,"...over time, people may "see through" limiting and less true factors, and go on to purify their own walk before God,...

the dynamics of large groups, of course make it difficult to monitor every individual situation,...for such reasons, the broad teachings and principles of the Church are very important to be upheld and proclaimed boldly before the congregations,...not every adherent wants to go personally deep deep with God,...and God does provide avenues of sustenance for them,...we pray for "the best" for everyone,...give as good instruction and guidelines as possible,...attempt to monitor questionable situations and set-ups,...the more enlightened--(i mean that word in a good and truly aware sense)--as to God's true nature, each person and leadership become, the better for all,...

but, even though "things aren't perfect" here on earth, there is a spiritual dynamic at work among us saving and preserving that which is good (the wheat), and blowing away, dispersing, the chaff,...truly we are in good hands with God ultimately,...but the more we can learn, study, and grow, the better it will be for everyone--here and in the beyond,...
georgie-ann , August 03, 2010
btw, AT,...
i do completely agree with you that fanatic cultism is dangerous and seriously out of place in Christianity,...each worshipper needs to be able to develop the ability to hear God for him/herself, to have that personal reassuring connection to the Lord,...developing greater awareness of these issues is probably very appropriate for our times--(thinking, as well, about the dangers of islamic fundamentalism),...

what i was trying to say before had to do with the situation of true believers and the faithful being somehow caught and/or formed in these groups,...God can still watch over them and preserve them,...but our prayers for this are very important as well,...
georgie-ann , August 03, 2010
Thanks georgie-ann
Thanks georgie-ann, those are great comments. Gods peace. AT
AT , August 03, 2010
thank you, AT,...
thank you, AT,...and God bless,...
georgie-ann , August 03, 2010
AT -- Opus Dei is not fanaticism or a cult
I'm a cooperator of Opus Dei (not a member), and I've known them to be anything but fanatical or excessive in recommending methods of bodily mortification. For example, their usual recommendations for bodily mortification involve things as simple and practical (but still hard to do because of weakness) such as refusing to take a second helping at a meal, taking a less-preferred item of food, drinking coffee black when you like it with cream and sugar, etc. Not exactly the stuff of hair shirts or the discipline! The genius of it all is to practice mortification in a perfectly natural and cheerful manner so that no one would ever know (except God) that you're doing it.

Some Opus Dei recommendations of mortification actually sound downright indulgent. For example, making sure you get 7-8 hours of sleep instead of 6 so that you can better serve your family, workplace, etc.

As for the tired old fanaticism/cult charge, Opus Dei has a family sense about it. Yes, they love St Josemaria Escriva but doesn't any healthy charism in the Church's history equally love their founder? The Jesuits used to be seen as fanatics and worshippers of St Ignatius Loyola. Same with the Franciscans with St Francis of Assisi. Your slander of Opus Dei sounds like jealousy to me.

I can't speak as much for the Legionaries, but everyone so far who I've met associated with them has impressed me. Fr Maciel undoubtedly had sins and his order covered them up. The Pope is reforming them and will preserve the ample good that they still do despite Maciel's sins.
Sam , August 05, 2010
Mortifications should not be at the price of harm done to others
Sam
Without going into an excessive discussion on this forum, let just say, I think that most people like you, who decide to be more involved in the Church, are great. The concern with OD, is the way it is organized, the way it recruits, the way it changes and rewrites history over time. It may have adapted to a “softer” approach for the “US market”, but it operates differently elsewhere (see Opuslibros or recent books from ex-numeraries in Italy). This has nothing to do with Christianity, in my books. 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice,' (Mat 12, 7). How much mercy is there in “The Way”? From what I read, it is about doing “ordinary” things, or “sacrifices” NOT directed at others. ”Charity” is almost exclusively defined as “Obedience” to superiors. “The Way” exhorts very little about ones need to love others, to help and care. There is nothing “ordinary” about smiling to some one that one usually ignores, for example. It would be perhaps a greater “mortification” if numeraries stopped treating associates like cheap labor, who wash numerary underwear, and that one otherwise ignores (as directed by the OD statutes). These people are not cattle, but humans, like numeraies. As St Therese says, we are all flowers in field. My concern is that OD “mortification” and other directives are just methods of sensory and emotional numbing, that allows those in charge, to have better control of members (JP2 explicitly called OD a hierarchical organization). The very loose canonical structure of “the prelature” allows it to operate outsides of the usual time tested governing structures of the Church, with little oversight. OD served as model for a con-artist like Maciel, who copied much of it's structure. The Maciel people tried the loose canonical “lay-that-make-spiritual-contracts” trick with the so called “consecrated women”, in Regnum Christi. These statutes were approved by the Vatican (including the 4th vow of “charity” or absolute obedience, similar to the so called “charity” in “the Way”), and caused true harm to many young, dedicated women. The concern is that OD will serve as model for the next big con in the church. There is sufficient circumstantial evidence that the prominent members of OD, that were in the Curia during JP2, either did nothing or obstructed the investigation of Maciel. Why? I hope that you, as OD cooperator lay, will be asking these questions, because if you don’t, some one else will be paying the price either now, or some day. One’s “feeling” good and “holy”, because one “mortified”, as instructed by the "spiritual director", should not be at the price of harm done to others. This does not mean that, as lay, we should not lead a disciplined life, at the service of the church, with love, faith, hope and reason. Peace. AT
AT , August 08, 2010
…then again
…then again, eating a little less, keeping ones mouth shut for a change…nothing wrong with that! ATsmilies/wink.gif
AT , August 08, 2010
...as long as
...as long as we love God with all our heart, mind and soul, and neighbor including honor our parents (maybe its me, but I have a hard time finding this written in the Way; also why now redefine the word “family”, isn’t there enough problems with this now days?). Peace. AT smilies/smiley.gif
AT , August 09, 2010
...
Fanatics should never suppose that theirs is the only way to salvation. To recommend mortification to others positively harms!
Alex , August 10, 2010

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