Times of Consolation, Times of Trust

Sometimes it seems as if the very fabric of society is being ripped to shreds, families are falling apart, people have lost compassion for each other, and each person is at war with himself and his neighbor. Truly, as we meditate on these first weeks of Advent, and as skies grow darker earlier, we feel that this world is going to continue to plunge into darkness until the end. So it has been foretold.

This is the time to trust! As dark as our sins - individual and societal - may be, they are not so dark as our distrust. As the voice of Jesus says in St. Faustina's diary (1486): "My child, all your sins have not wounded My Heart as painfully as your present lack of trust does - that after so many efforts of My love and mercy, you should still doubt My goodness."

The other day I was making a list of some times of spiritual consolation in my life, that I might thank God for them, and recall them when I'm tempted to distrust. I noticed a trend, three things: times at Mass or prayer, times at confession or spiritual direction, times in close, spiritual friendship. The best of times involved two or three at once. I think of that last trip to visit Nathan. Thank you, God, for giving that to me. Though it came and went, as all good things on this side of eternity do, it will sustain me in difficult times.

I've developed the habit, recently, of praying for a few minutes at the beginning of the day, when all is quiet and dark, before work. These times have become so consoling also. It is spiritual bread to sustain me all day. Many nights, as I go to bed, I'm anxious for the night to be over so I can get up and spend that time again another day. Thank you, God, for this present gift.

Collard Greens

I cooked collard greens for our Thanksgiving dinner. I did it one of the Southern old fashioned ways: in a cast iron skillet, sautéed in bacon grease then covered and simmered for a few hours. We ran out before anyone could get seconds.

Being sautéed.

Almost done cooking.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

On Thanksgiving I wish, first of all, to thank God for giving me life and my parents for saying yes to it. I'm thankful for my family and my friends. I'm thankful for the many blessings and privileges which I have enjoyed in life, knowing full-well that I am not a self-made man. And, though I never would have welcomed them, I am thankful for what the little suffering and grief I've faced in life has taught me, both about myself, that I may be more grateful and humble, and about others, that I may look outside of my interests toward the wellbeing of others.

One thing, though, has especially been on my heart this year, that I am especially thankful for. There is someone who taught me much, and continues to teach me though we are apart. At the time, I did not know I was being taught. I took her presence for granted. But, with every passing day this year, I have looked to her example for wisdom, and her life inspires me to be compassionate to others, and to know myself more deeply. I repent of having taken her for granted.

I think of her and other friends who are no longer with me. What I learn from this is to be grateful today for what I will wish I had been grateful for tomorrow. Because today is passing away forever, and the things we do, or refuse to do, will be forever.

Being Made of Solid Wood

There's nothing quite like holding a piece of furniture, a box, or a musical instrument of solid wood, made thoughtfully and artfully, by hand. These objects have a certain aura about them, something in them that even inspires me to be a better man. They are the real deal. It is one of my aspirations in life to be like these. When someone encounters me, I would want them to think, "This here is a true man." This requires more than authenticity. Our generation loves authenticity. We are all supposed to just "be ourselves." This is true, but our selves also need to be something. Our selves must have substance. Otherwise we are just authentically mediocre. 

I like an idea I encountered in Dietrich von Hildebrand. In spite of what psychologists might say, we do not all have personalities. Some people are personalities. A personality is someone who is great, someone who has virtue. The rest of us, who lack greatness, have no personality. A personality is a person who becomes what God intended him to be. Take von Hildebrand himself:

A personality in the true sense of the word is the man who rises above the average only because he fully realizes the classical human attitudes, because he knows more deeply and originally than the average man, loves more profoundly and authentically, wills more clearly and correctly than the others, and makes full use of his freedom; in a word, he is the complete, the profound, and the true man (Liturgy and Personality, Ch. II). 

This is what sets those beautiful works of human craftsmanship apart from the cheap veneered furniture to be found anywhere. They have "personality". In our times, the veneered person is commonplace as well. Our social media presences and our résumés are often veneers covering what is lacking in substance and true personality. It reminds me of one of the aphorisms of Baltasar Gracián, SJ, (translated by Christopher Maurer):

292. Let your character be superior to the requirements of the job, not vice versa.

No matter how great the post, you must show you are greater. Deep talent grows even deeper, and more obvious, with each pursuit. The person with a narrow mind and heart will be easily caught, and eventually the weight of his duties will crush his reputation. The great Augustus was proud of being a better man than a prince. Here is where one needs a lofty spirit, and well-grounded confidence in oneself.

This last sentence contrasts quite starkly with what I quoted from Lorenzo Scupoli the other day. Two priests, giving almost opposite advice.  It should be noted that Gracián's aphorism comes from his work titled The Art of Worldly Wisdom. Note that he also says "well-grounded confidence". Coincidentally, both Scupoli and Gracián were disciplined for disobedience. Yet, Scupoli seems to have accepted his chastisement with humility, and was vindicated in the end, whereas Gracián was obstinate in his ways. So, I would rather follow the advice of Scupoli, but I am still drawn to the ideal of Augustus, of being a better man than what one's titles or credentials show, having a substance of solid wood, not just its outward appearance.

Mozart's Requiem (Hogwood)

I've been listening to Mozart's Requiem Mass over the past few days. I love the interpretation by Christopher Hogwood with the Westminster Cathedral Boys Choir and The Academy of Ancient Music. Some other, more Romantic interpretations are rather heavy and seem to drag on. I love Hogwood's swifter pace and the use of treble voices which adds some lightness and sweetness.

As an example, here's an excerpt from the Dies Irae, Lacrimosa, which Mozart has made a separate movement:

Lacrimosa dies illa
Qua resurget ex favilla
Judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus:
Pie Jesu Domine,
Dona eis requiem.

Mournfully be that day
On which from ashes shall arise
The guilty man to be judged;
O God, have mercy on him.
Gentle Lord Jesus,
Grant them eternal rest.

Ruffner Mountain in Fall

Ruffner Mountain is one of my favorite places. Here are some photos I took there over the years.

Deep blue sky made with polarizing filter on camera.

Inside the old quarry.

Another inside the quarry.

"Fake it till you make it"

I wrote a rather impertinent piece a couple of weeks ago on this topic, which I subsequently deleted. Brittany, however, wanted to know my views. Here is my attempt to present a case against it more concisely. And I hope to hear her response (or anyone else's).

First of all, I would say that I'm not entirely against "fake it till you make it," depending on what the phrase means. If I "fake" being a saint by never sinning again and continuously performing heroic deeds and works of mercy, I wouldn't call that faking it. That's just making it. It would be helpful, then, first to articulate what we mean by "fake it till you make it."

The concept is basically that of a positive self-fulfilling prophecy. If I believe positive things about myself, even if they are untrue, I will act more positively, in accordance with those beliefs. Thus, if I pretend to be a confident person, I will act like a confident person, and thereby become a confident person. If I pretend to be a happy person, I will act like I'm happy, then I will feel happy. &c. This all seems like common sense, and it might seem difficult to argue against it. But first, is this characterization accurate?

Let me try to diagram it:

"Fake it till you make it":

lack of self-confidence → weakness/failure as the result of lack of self-confidence → self-deception (the "faking it") about weakness/failure → boost in self-confidence as a result of self-deception (faking) → overcoming of weakness/failure as a result of boost in self-confidence ("making it")

Again, is this an accurate characterization?

The Problem:

If I were to take issue with this, it would be with that most pesky moral principle for us pragmatic moderns: the principle that the end does not justify the means. The end, overcoming weakness and failure, is good. Unquestionably. The means, "faking it until you make it," seems to work, but there is something else to consider: is the means good?

The problem with the means is that it involves deception (faking; self-deception or deception of others). Can deception be excused if it accomplishes something positive? It would seem, based on the writings of the saints and spiritual guides, that it cannot. In fact, with almost unanimity, they list self-deception as one of the chief enemies of moral and spiritual growth. It would seem, then, apart from the fact that lying itself is intrinsically disordered, deception cannot bring about long-term good, no matter if we can make it useful in the short-term.

Fr. Scupoli, in The Spiritual Combat, specifically mentions self-confidence as an obstacle to spiritual growth. The purpose of our weaknesses and failures is actually to destroy our confidence in ourselves, since our illusion of self-confidence is the means by which we fall into them in the first place. Real personal, moral, spiritual growth does not come by deceiving ourselves into feeling more confident in our abilities, but rather in relinquishing all confidence in our abilities, and placing total confidence in God. Fr. Scupoli:

God permits us to fall only that we may gain a deeper insight into ourselves, that we may learn to despise ourselves as wretched creatures and to desire honestly to be disregarded by others. Without this we cannot hope to obtain distrust of self which is rooted in humility and the knowledge of our own weakness. Whoever seeks to approach the eternal truth and fountain of all light must know himself thoroughly.

Thus, our impulse to action and change, by which we overcome our weaknesses and failures, is not from self-deception or an optimistic illusion about what we are capable of, but from a real knowledge of Who God is and what He can do and wishes to do in us. Having confidence in God requires no deception, as He is perfect and trustworthy already. To have confidence in Him is simply to recognize the truth about Who He is.

My problem with "fake it till you make it," then, is not about whether it sometimes works, but whether it is good, or whether it is aimed at our ultimate good. Call me an optimist, but I believe truth is the answer.

Bare Pawpaw

As I drove to work this morning, the fields sparkled with frost. I was surprisingly eager to get up this morning, in spite of the cold. No doubt the little radiant heater glowing across the dark room helped. I forgot to post a photo I took this weekend: the pawpaw tree has lost its leaves.

November Garden Update

It's late November, and so far no frost here yet, but maybe tonight. I took some photos of plants I have growing at my mom's yesterday:

Buddha's hand citron (Citrus medica). Citrons are one of the pure citrus species (of natural, rather than hybrid, origin). "Medica" refers the the Medes, not to medicine. If you've never smelled on of these before, you're missing out! The sweet fragrance carries across the yard.

Myrtle-leaf sour orange (Citrus myrtifolia). These tiny sour oranges make great marmalade, so I read. I'll have to try it sometime.

Rosa chinensis 'Louis Philippe'. This China rose does great in the South.

Instresses

Welcome to my new blogging venture. I've decided to return again to blogger after a few years on Tumblr. I've taken the name from Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J., whose terms "inscape" and "instress" I really love:

[Hopkins] felt that everything in the universe was characterized by what he called inscape, the distinctive design that constitutes individual identity. This identity is not static but dynamic. Each being in the universe 'selves,' that is, enacts its identity. And the human being, the most highly selved, the most individually distinctive being in the universe, recognizes the inscape of other beings in an act that Hopkins calls instress, the apprehension of an object in an intense thrust of energy toward it that enables one to realize specific distinctiveness. Ultimately, the instress of inscape leads one to Christ, for the individual identity of any object is the stamp of divine creation on it. (source)

Fr. Hopkins being aloof on right