Reclaim the supernatural

The loss of the sense of the supernaturalhelps to explain the declineof the Catholic Church since Vatican Council II.


Reclaim the supernatural

By Alice von Hildebrand


There is a very simple explanation for the devastation which has taken place in the Roman Catholic Church in the wake of Vatican II: THE LOSS OF THE SENSE OF THE SUPERNATURAL.


No doubt, this collapse was preceded by a steady erosion of this sense, an erosion which started at the time of the Renaissance. The first step was to limit one’s allegiance to the Church to lip service. Gradually this double-minded attitude (that is, keep a good conscience while divorcing the holy teaching of the Church frm one’s life) led to the temptation of watering down the divine message to make it more “palatable” to man’s fallen nature (according to Kierkegaard, this means “changing wine into water”). The next step was to praise the supernatural for purely naturalistic reasons: saints are acclaimed for their “efficiency” and Mother Teresa of Calcutta and Ted Turner are praised in the same breath!). Once on this downside slope, it is easy to fall into the temptation of placing nature over supernature. (A doctorate is more highly regarded than the priesthood). The road is now free for a total collapse of the divine message. Once the supernatural has been eliminated, it is logical that priests, monks and nuns should abandon religious life, and devote their time and energy to secularistic pursuits: to yoke themselves to the “wheel of human progress,” loaded with the rich promise of creating an earthly paradise here and now.



Not so long ago, I heard a nun proclaim that the most saintly priest she had met in her life was her father. I hardly had time to catch my breath to figure out how this was possible, when she volunteered the answer: “he had such a strong social sense.” Indeed, if a priest is only a social worker, seminaries should close. If there is no supernatural, religious life with its vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, becomes meaningless. Why submit oneself in obedience to a superior who has no doctorate, no diploma in the social sciences, no publication to his credit when one is endowed with all these admirable qualities! This is secularistic logic at its best.
Should we wonder that since the close of Vatican II many priests got married — oftentimes with ex-nuns gleefully liberated from “burdensome and crippling vows” which prevented them from being “fulfilled.”


In the sixties, the Catholic landscape reminded one of a piece of land devastated by a tornado.
But in the course of the last ten years, the invincible power of the supernatural has, once again, manifested itself. Father Benedict Groeschel stated in one of his programs at EWTN that in the course of the last ten years, an amazing number of new religious orders have sprung within the Church. Whereas many “old” orders are declining to the point of extinction, (the punishment meted to those who practice “spiritual birthcontrol”), these new foundations blossom at a surprising pace. In a short span of time, they double, triple and quadruple. What is their secret?
They have re-introduced the supernatural: this divine “intrusion” into the natural order, which is so sublime that it could never have been invented by man. The transforming power of the sacraments, the blessedness of the Eucharist, the incredible gift of the sacrament of Confession — “go in peace, they sins are forgiven thee” — are once again, showing their holy vitality. The havoc introduced in the liturgy — the horrible music (if it can be called music at all), the banality of the homilies are — in many places — being replaced by RELIGIOUS services in which the sacred is prominent. Let me mention the Parish of St. John Cantius in Chicago which was “defunct” ten years ago, and is now flourishing: the Latin Mass, (Novus Ordo), has been introduced, followed by the Tridentine Mass with Gregorian chant, and Masses of Mozart and Haydn). Women are not permitted to come to Mass immodestly dressed. There are long lines of parishioners waiting at the Confessional. The sacred is prominent: “Terribilis est locus iste; hic domus Dei est, et porta coeli” (This place is awesome; it is God’s house and the door of heaven).
The young generation has been starved, and as soon as they discover the beauty of the liturgy, the sublimity of Gregorian chant, the enriching silence that should reign in places of worship (which oftentimes remind one of convention centers), they flock there, gratefully, bringing their young children with them. God is re-conquering his Church. The battle is not over, but any one of good will must acknowledge that in the wake of Vatican II the church (with a small c) has deviated from the path of truth and peace.


Once the supernatural is lost sight of, the swarm of human imperfections will proliferate with vitality. “Menschlich, all zu menschlich” wrote Nietzsche. (Human, all too human). Let us briefly mention some of them (their name is legion).


The sublime vocation of the priesthood is a calling to give oneself totally and completely to Christ: to understand how great a privilege it is to be his servant, to do his will, to represent the Holy One at the altar, to give absolution to the sinners in His name. To become a priest because one comes from a modest background, and the priesthood is a sure way of ascending in the social scale, is an unworthy motive. Any wise spiritual director would turn down such “vocations.”
Alas, ambition is deeply rooted in one’s fallen nature, and it is a sheer illusion to believe that because one has a calling to the priesthood, one is ipso facto, liberated from this shackle. There are priests who hope to become a monsignor — a step that will possibly lead to being consecrated a bishop, and a bishop can potentially become a cardinal. The lives of saints testify to the fact that the true servants of God shun honors, and when they are offered to them, either turn them down (let us think of Don Bosco), or accept them under the cross. When the Holy Pius X was elected, — something which he dreaded — he said; “I accept under the cross.” (In his great work, The Republic, Plato already underlined the fact that the ruler worthy of this name is in no way anxious to take the reins of government in his hands). A holy priest is conscious of the fact that the greater the authority one receives, the greater one’s responsibility. St. Benedict writes in his Holy Rule: “Let the abbot remember always that at the dreadful judgment of God there will be an examination …. of his teaching and of the obedience of his disciples. And let the abbot realize that the shepherd will have to answer for any lack of profit which the Father of the family may discover in his sheep” (chap. 2).


These are words which anyone driven by ambition, should meditate upon. The responsibility of those in power is such that they justify the words of St. John Chrysostom who was troubled by the doubt whether any bishop could be saved” (quoted in Lowrie’s Kierkegaard, Vol. II, p. 53l, Harper, Torchbooks).


A simple test to determine whether one is happy to serve, or anxious to rule is the following: suppose that someone, hoping secretly to become a bishop, to become provincial or superior, to become president of a college, suffers a defeat. If his response is bitterness, rancor, it is luminously clear that the person in question was not supernaturally motivated. To be deigned to work in God’s vineyard, in whatever function, should be the only honor that one aspires to. A modest role, performed with love, glorifies God a lot more than a lofty position tainted by ambition (a form of pride). There the chasm separating the natural from the supernatural appears in all its depth. We only need think of the bitterness, the resentment, and sometime the rage of those defeated in politics, business or sports. All of us have seen tennis players hitting their racket upon the ground or shouting obscenities, because they are about to lose a match. If someone blessed with a supernatural attitude suffers a defeat — instead of ranting and raving, he will humbly examine whether this failure it is due to some fault of his: his rashness, his impatience, his lack of wisdom — and if the answer is positive, he will thank God for having opened his mind to this defect, and make the resolution to learn from his mistakes. He will say with the psalmist: “it is good for me that I was humiliated, that I might learn thy statutes” (Ps. 118: 71). If the defeat is due to injustice (a person is not elected because he takes a firm stand against abortion, or because he is not “politically correct”), this is something that God (for reasons that we shall perceive in eternity) has permitted. It should remind us that he can draw good out of evil, or wishes to grace us with the understanding that the servant should not be better treated than his Master who was flouted, rejected and spat upon. FROM A SUPERNATURAL POINT OF VIEW TO HUMBLY ACCEPT A DEFEAT CAN TURN OUT TO BE A RESOUNDING VICTORY, and glorify God in a unique fashion — much more than a victory which in ever so little a degree flatters one’s vanity. One’s attitude toward a defeat is a great test of one’s moral status. To let a defeat defeat one is the greatest defeat. Either to learn from a defeat, or to accept it with equanimity and composure is indicative of a soul that has real inner strength. History teaches one a great lesson: victories are not always beneficial to the victor. Oftentimes, it leads him to brashness, unhealthy self-assurance, and is the first step toward a future defeat. It is related in the life of the great Saint Ignatius that he once said that if his whole work in founding the Society of Jesus would collapse, it would not take him more than a quarter of an hour in front of the blessed sacrament to regain his peace. This is a sure sign of a supernatural spirit, of someone who knows that God is the master of history, and that not a single hair falls from our head without his permission.


Another sign that a “religious” person is not supernaturally motivated is if he allows a spirit of rivalry to penetrate into his work. There are persons who devote their lives to a noble cause, be it, for example, the fight against abortion. If such a person views this cause with a truly supernatural spirit, he will collaborate with any other organization fighting under the same flag. Unfortunately, there are cases in which such organizations develop a spirit of rivalry and actually denigrate one another to guarantee the predominance of their endeavor. Such “Menschlich, all zu menschlich” responses can, alas, also be found between religious orders, as if they were rival political factions, instead of working together in the same vineyard for the Kingdom of God. To ask which is the greatest order in the Church is an inane question; to assume that an order is necessarily greater because it has attracted a larger number of candidates is, once again, to take a secularistic yardstick, instead of adopting a supernatural outlook. How beautiful of St. Francis to call his order “fratres minimi,” to deflect the danger of spiritual pride. Each religious order, each lay religious organization can and will glorify God if its members are supernaturally motivated. Each one of them is called upon to play an instrument in the divine symphony, and no violin, sublime as the tones it produces may be, has a right to denigrate the trombone or the drum.


Man’s fallen nature faithfully accompanies him wherever he goes. This is why Saint Peter warns us that we should be vigilant. There are persons who give their time, energy and money to a worthy religious cause, but do so only if they are given a key position in the work, and if their merit is acknowledged. The very moment that they are replaced by someone else (let us assume that this replacement is justified), they become bitter, and refuse to collaborate in a lesser capacity. Misreading the sublime words of St. John the Baptist: “May He increase, and I decrease,” they are saying; “May he increase, and I with him.” Like Caesar, they prefer to be number one in a village than number two in Rome. They crave for the limelight and are allergic to being in the shade. From a supernatural point of view, it should be a matter of complete indifference whether another person or myself succeeds in accomplishing a task which glorifies God. “Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam” (Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to thy name give glory [Ps. ll5-1]).


There are even cases of people so convinced that their work is of crucial importance to the Church, so sure that they have the mission of saving the Church, that they refuse to acknowledge that other missionary works have any importance at all. To put it very bluntly, there are people so completely devoted to their work for the blind that they feel justified in being ruthless to the deaf.


The list of possible religious aberrations is long. What has been said should suffice to warn us how crucial it is to beg God for the grace to be animated by His spirit, and to acknowledge humbly that “without Him, we can do nothing.” This is the spirit which — in spite of human frailty and imperfection — has kept the Holy Catholic Church on even keel for two thousand years. Let us pray that it may reconquer the hardened heart of modern man.