The friars in Australia have told me about Brian Regan.

Here is a segment on men and women:

And  a little military humor:

And just to see if you can breathe through it:

I have been reflecting lately on the notion of Dom Chautard concerning that aspect of the interior life that is Englished in his book “custody of the heart.”  Perhaps a more militant way of translating this notion in modern English would be “guarding the heart.”

It is the duty of a knight to guard and protect, and we often associate this role with his perennial preoccupation with the Damsel in Distress.  Elsewhere I have noted that the Blessed Virgin is the personification of the Damsel in Distress–not so much because She is helpless, which She is not, nor is that an essential quality of any such damsel, but because She personifies everything true, good and beautiful.  She does this precisely at the foot of the cross as the personification of the Bride of Christ and as Mother and exemplar of the Church.  Ultimately the Christian Knight must be at Her service.

But the curious fact is that the knight, while an image of Christ, the Bridegroom and Savior, is first of all a sinner and one who must identify with the needy Bride as much as any woman should.  This is not to say that the knight must become a woman spiritually, but that his masculinity need not be threatened by whole-hearted honesty about his dependence on God.

In fact, nothing could be more important.  In order to stand fast in the breach that has been blasted in the wall of the City of God, Our Lady’s knight must first repair the breach in his own heart.  How can a knight defend the City of God, how can he fight for the honor of the Immaculate Heart and guard it from the dishonor of the heathens, if he has not first mastered the art of guarding his own heart?  In fact, there is nothing more urgent than the attention we pay to our own vulnerabilities.

To this end, I would like to associate the notion of Dom Chautard with that of St. Paul concerning the Armor of God.

Ephesians 6

Finally, brethren, be strengthened in the Lord and in the might of his power.  Put you on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the deceits of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood; but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places (10-12).

This particular passage of St. Paul’s writings is perhaps the most militant in expression of anything he wrote.  In fact, St. Paul was a fearless man, undergoing every suffering willingly for the sake of the gospel, facing whatever danger and enemy with which he was confronted for the sake of souls.  Whenever a spiritual writer refers to “the Apostle” without mentioning a name, we know that he is referring to St. Paul.  This is because the Apostle exemplified in himself the man of action in the heart of Christ.

However, this most militant passage of his writings is not about the apostolate or action, but about the interior life.  His exhortation is to stand fast against the enemy of our soul, which is not flesh and blood, but the Prince of this World.  Interesting how the one who pretends to have the world in his hand is not a power of this world, but one of the world of darkness.  And the subtle liar would like us to believe that all our fights in this world are the wars of righteousness, meanwhile he insinuates himself into our hearts and makes mayhem of our spiritual lives, compromising our prayerful union with God and throwing smoke in the eyes of our discernment.

How often we invest ourselves in our daily concerns without having first invested ourselves in prayer.  The life of a warrior is nothing if not one of discipline.  Spiritual combat is more than anything a matter of our interior union with God.

Therefore, take unto you the armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day and to stand in all things perfect (13).

Because of these considerations, I was inspired then to reflect on St. Paul’s words in the form of a prayer.

The ordination of a knight or his investiture (clothing) is the matter at hand.  In the ancient text, De benedictione novi militis (Blessing of a New Knight), the prayer in which the candidate receives his shield reads thus:

O Lord, we pray of your mercy, that your servant, who receives this shield in honor of chivalry, may pass through this temporal world without losing the eternal one.  Through Christ Our Lord. Amen.

There are plenty of dangers in this world, the greatest of them are spiritual and have little to do with pagans and profligates.  Sometimes we are our own worst enemy.  We should be careful not to lose the one fight that really matters.

There is long standing tradition of “vesting prayers” within the Church, very often reflecting the words of St. Paul.  The text of the vesting prayers of the priest are the most eloquent example, though many religious have their own form adapted to their habit and charism.  The following is my own adaptation of vesting prayers for the Christian and modern knight, not necessarily to be prayed as such, but at least an expression of custody of the heart.

At Rising

Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth (14a) . . .

Heavenly Father, in the Holy Name of Jesus, let me guard my heart from all falsehood and allow me to live in Thy truth.  Give me Thy help to keep far from me every deception of the enemy.  May I be strong and ready for every arrow that flieth in the day, of the business that walketh about in the dark: of invasion, or of the noonday devil (Ps 90:6).  Amen.

At Kneeling Down

. . . and having on the breastplate of justice (14b):

In Jesus’ Name, I beg for His righteousness, Lord God, because I have none of my own.  Clothe me in His life and virtue.  Give me His spirit so that I guard the recesses of my heart from every sinful inclination and false inspiration. May zeal for justice increase in me as I stand fast against my own compromises. Set a watch, O Lord, before my mouth: and a door round about my lips.  Incline not my heart to evil words; to make excuses in sins (Ps 140:3-4).  Give the grace to submit myself entirely to Thy holy will.  Amen.

At Dressing

And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace (15).

Father, All-Powerful, Our Lord Jesus Christ, who said, Do not think that I came to send peace upon earth: I came not to send peace, but the sword (Mt 10:34), also spoke to us saying: Peace I leave with you: my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, do I give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled: nor let it be afraid (Jn 14:27).  May I be prepared by His gospel of peace to bring peace wherever I go, by resisting the enemy of my soul and helping others to do likewise.  Let me die to myself for Jesus Christ to win souls for Him, in who’s Holy Name I trust and pray.  Amen.

At Leading the Family

In all things taking the shield of faith, wherewith you may be able to extinguish all the fiery darts of the most wicked one (16).

Heavenly Father, in Thy power and in the Holy Name of Thy Son, Jesus, I beg the Grace to be a shepherd after the heart of Christ to my family and all those entrusted to my care.  May my faith not fail and may my conversion be complete so I might confirm my brethren in their faith (cf. Lk 22:31-32).  Grant that I might shield myself and my people from every wile of the enemy and rise in joy and confidence in the Power of the Holy Name of Jesus.  Amen.

At One’s Daily Duty

And take unto you the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God (17).

Lord, All-Powerful, blessed art Thou, who teacheth my hands to fight, and my fingers to war.  Thou art my mercy, and my refuge: my support, and my deliverer: My protector, and I have hoped in Thee, who subdueth my people under me (Ps 144: 1-2).  Guard my mind from impurity and deception that I may discern your holy will in all things.  Separate from my heart by Thy armed right hand every motive that does not come from Thee.  May I do Thy work, and only Thy work, in the manner of Thy Son, Jesus, and with the honorable intentions of His Sacred Heart.  I ask this in His Holy Name.  Amen.

****

St. Paul concludes with the following:

By all prayer and supplication praying at all times in the spirit: and in the same watching with all instance and supplication for all the saints. (18).

In Dom Chautard’s teaching’s on custody of the heart he mentions spiritual disciplines like “purity of intention,” the “practice of the presence of God,”devotion to Our Lady,” continual formation in custody of the heart and vigilance at all times.  St. Paul says: all prayer, all times, with all instance, for all the saints.  The matter is preaching clear:  before anything else, to stand fast means to guard our own heart.  And for this we must not count the cost, but fight in a manly way for the kingdom of God

Got to hand it to those Presbyterians. Notice that last remark about shoes and shirts. I grew up in California. Makes perfect sense.

My posting this is a bit ironic, since the alarm on my phone went off this morning during Lauds and instead of turning the alarm off I hit snooze, so it went off again an minute later. Bad friar.

Hat tip to Brian.

Breakthrough Study:  Learning to Say “No” to yourself is a key to success.

I guess child psychology has come around full swing.  On second though, perhaps, not quite.  We have not gotten around to identifying certain choices as “bad” yet.  What is the word?  O yes, “inappropriate.”

Catholics used to call this “mortification,” which is a sound psychological habit elevated by grace and supernatural motivation.  But we guilty Catholics, what do we know?

The new apologists would tell us that God is like a marshmallow.

During my discussions of the topic of prudery on The Linde, Lauretta found a quote from Christopher Derick in which he makes the claim that the paschal candle is, in fact, a phallic symbol.  I mention this because in one of my posts I noted that, while Christopher West quotes Derrick’s Sex and Sacredness as supporting this theory, the quote he actually uses says nothing about the candle.  In any case, there is still no magisterial or patristic evidence for this assertion and I still maintain that it is a baseless invention.

I have also updated the compendium with my latest contribution.

My last full day in Fatima, Father Peter, Father Andre, Fra Solanus and a local Fatima friend of the friars, Leo Madigan had an opportunity to visit the Convento de Cristo, a very imposing Knights Templar Castle less than an hour away from Fatima.  In 1319, few years after the papal suppression of the Templars, the knights were re-founded in Portugal as the Knights of Christ, and retained possession of the monastery fortress.

The Templar Church architecture is very notable.  The original construction of the Church was round to which a later rectangular nave was added.  This pattern is seen also in the Church of the Temple in London and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Cambrige, and all of these examples are based on the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, the focus of the whole crusading spirit.

When I posted last I was poking around a little on Anthony Esolen’s page in the Touchstone archives and found an excellent article on the Quest called “The Lovely Dragon of Choice: The Freedom Not to Be Free.” I think I will make it the topic for discussion at tomorrow night’s men’s discussion group meeting in Griswold.

I recommend a careful reading of the piece. It is worth reading twice.

What I took away from it is the way in which the “Dragon of Choice” has insinuated itself, not only into the hearts of those who consciously purvey the culture of death, but also into the hearts of those who wish to be the champions of life. In fact, life itself is a quest full of adventure, something that is dissolved by calculation and cleverness. Esolen pegs “Modern Man,” and by that I mean not the “other guys” but all of us:

Modern man is afraid of the quest, and is not particularly fond of hunger and cliffs, either. He will not see that the very point of an adventure is that you cannot plan it. And to be in quest of the Holy Grail—that is, the mystery of Christ made manifest in our world under the humble appearances of bread and wine—is to be prepared for the appearance, sudden and awful, even on a bare rock and when one’s stomach knots with hunger, of the ineffable God.

The Eucharistic Grail, the object of our yearning and our quest, is not merely what we see, the form of bread and wine, but what we do not see, the substantial presence of Our Blessed Lord’s Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. But it is even more than that. Eucharistic life is not only participation in the Holy Sacrifice, Communion and Adoration, it is not only a reverent liturgy or high liturgical culture; it is the same self-offering and radical obedience by which Christ submits Himself to sinful men and makes himself vulnerable on our altars, in our tabernacles, on our tongues and in our hands. Our Lord is not clever and calculating in the Eucharist. The altar is the Holy Sepulcher to be defended by Crusaders or defiled by His enemies. The adventure of the Cross is not over for Lord, nor for us.

Esolen, in fact calls it wisdom to throw choice away; he says that our hope lies not in choice, but in being chosen. I think this translates into a real openness to divine providence, which in the context of the culture of life, means openness to children, for example, and in the context of life in general, openness to the hazards of people we do not choose to live with.

Esolen is not denying that it is our particular gift as men, created in the image and likeness of God, to deliberate and choose between various options, but at the real heart of our choices there must be something more than calculation. There must be vision:

We cannot worship the Almighty, nor ought we to try to, without this artistic, willful, playful intelligence, this embrained choosing. Hence the precise symbolisms of color and gesture and matter in a high-church liturgy, or the delicacies of musical meter and pitch and tempo and rhyme in a Baptist revival.

But those same examples of art and liturgy show that this choosing-among, this intelligence, cannot be primary, cannot itself provide the criterion controlling the choice. The elegant painter chooses the red ochre for the stag because he sees something that precedes choice. He has a vision, perhaps, of the power and the vitality of the stag, and wishes to render the stag as red as he is to the hunter’s heart, though it may be redder than he is to the hunter’s eye.

I find Esolen’s insight here fascinating and exhilarating. I am all for a restoration of Catholic Culture, for a whole-hearted and vigorous commitment to the Christianization of the world in which we live. But the more I argue for it, the less I think it has anything to do with calculation and planning.

I am very much interested in creative intuition and the artistic impulse, which are so often driven by egoism and the addiction to self-expression. But despite the valid reasons the morally astute have to hold creative intuition in suspicion, I don’t think culture is served by slavish reliance cultural unity and by planning perfect Catholic communities.

From a Catholic perspective, there is a fundamental and very difficult question to answer at the heart of aesthetics:  What is the relationship between creative inspiration and grace?  Both Domincan and Franciscan schools admit a relative autonomy to the natural order, but not an absolute one.  Franciscans especially tend to see Christ at the heart of every wholesome inspiration.  It cannot exist without the truth, but neither can it exist when it is merely calculated.  Inspiration is inherently a dangerous thing.  And so it must be.  If we take the adventure out of creativity we have given up the quest.

I would like to see the following two paragraphs of Esolen inscribed on every orthodox, traditional door and gate, be it home, church, parish or church organization:

If a group of people get together and choose to form a village, they have formed not a village but a club, a clique. The true village embraces all the romance and adventure of a pirate raid: people next door who insist on keeping chickens; a troop up the street who yell like Huns on furlough; the near genius who drinks too much, who can take your car apart and rebuild it better than it was, but who cannot keep a job; Irish and Italian boys who get into brawls now and who marry each other’s sisters later.

There they are, the crazy lot of them, from the smug churchgoer to the even smugger atheist, thrust into one cranny of a continental crust, forced by the accident of birth not only to put up with each other but also to keep their streets clean, rebuke each other’s children, spike the punch on holidays, and bury each other at the last. When Christ asks us if we loved our neighbors, how many of us modern choosers will be hoping he means those nice people with the good grace to live far away in India, people whom we chose to help, rather than those strange and terrible beings who just happened to live on our block?

Creative intuition is partly about art and culture, but before anything else it is about a more fundamental aesthetic, the social aesthetic of family and community life.  Here more than anywhere else calculation is cancer.  What is needed is wisdom, the wisdom of the Cross.

I mentioned in an earlier post my suspicion with a recent attempt to create a Catholic village. I am more and more suspicious  of cultural solutions that are drawn like pictures to illustrate the approved form of Catholic life and distinguish it from those that are verboten. I am not suggesting we should reinvent the wheel or hold our venerable traditions in suspicion, but I am suggesting that our communities need to embrace the crazy genious, the atheist, the smug churchgoer and all the rest.  We need a real village.  We do not need any more clubs or cliques.

Cultural unity cannot be bought by calculation at the expense of vision.  Will there be dangers?  Of course there will.  Those who take upon themselves the Quest cannot expect otherwise.  As Joan of Arc once said:  “The men will fight and God will give them the victory.” Our Guarantor is God, not man.

I think the fear of “scandal” among some from those who are not “faithful” has become a pretext to become calculating, to become servants of the Dragon of Choice and to stifle the vision necessary to work effectively for a real restoration of Christian culture and for the salvation of souls. If we are really open to the Culture of Life, that is, to large families as God chooses them, then our families within the faith need also to be large. We shouldn’t be so calculated about those we live with and those we do not. The real adventure and quest is full of uncertainty and danger. Where would we be if Christ was calculating about what altars to come down upon and what tabernacles to dwell in? Do we presume that if He was fussy He would choose to dwell in ours?

I think sometimes we presume too much, and decieve ourselves into thinking that we have more figured out than we really have.  And in the end this is just willfulness.  Wisdom is not willfulness.  As Professor Esolen says, it is wonder.

It is to pray, to wait, to obey, to listen, to give over one’s own interfering and noisy choosing, the static of one’s life of half-sleep, that dragon of the noonday hour, in the hope that the wisdom will come. The pagan poets themselves invoke the Muse, and she, note well, is the one who chooses.

Somehow creative intuition and grace need to come together.  I would suggest that our Muse must be the Immaculate.  As St. Maximilian Kolbe says:

She alone must instruct each of us in every instant; She must direct us, transform us into Herself, in such wise that it is no longer we who live, but She in us, just as Jesus lives in Her and the Father in the Son. Let us grant Her permission to do in us and by means of us whatever She desires and She will surely accomplish miracles of grace: we will become saints and great saints.

Heading back to my old hideout for almost a week.  I need to get out of here.

I leave you with some good news from Doug Barry, a.k.a. Radix.  He is making some real progress on his Camp Gargano.

I have also come into contact with a group much like ours called Fraternus.  Check it out.  I will have more on this later.

Please also take a look at my last post on Our Lady and masculinity.

And last, but not least, a demented cat lover.

I’m sure you can find something to chew on while I am away.

Since I am in an apocalyptic mood I thought it would be nice to have some more war, but let’s brighten things up a bit at the same time. Don’t worry, I won’t ignore the multi-headed devourer that threatens our existence, I just think that the Woman Clothed with the Sun might shed some light on what we should do in our predicament.  Forgive me for not being quite as lugubrious as usual.

Just read something interesting on Our Lady of Guadalupe:

The Image of Christ in the accidents of bread, and the image of Mary in the accidents of flowers, but with this lovable difference, that in Christ’s sacrament the accidents of bread appear, and not the image, and in Mary’s sacrament the image appears and the accidents of flowers disappear.

Father Juan de San Miguel, SJ preached these words in 1671 during the consecration of a side chapel of the Mexico City Cathedral dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe.  I can only assume that the context of the remarks would indicate that he is speaking metaphorically.  He certainly is not saying that the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe is a “sacrament” in the proper sense of the term.  Nevertheless, a comparison with the Eucharist is valid.

The whole point of the continuous miracle of the tilma, which is comparable to the perduring miracle of the Real Presence of the Eucharist, is to reassure the members of the Church Militant that the Woman Clothed with the Sun is really with us and is ready to manifest that presence in power and victory.  John Paul the II made the central thought of his Marian encyclical “the role of Mary in the mystery of Christ and on her active and exemplary presence in the life of the Church.” That active and exemplary presence is going to bring the red dragon to the mat.  Just you wait.

Father Juan notes the ostensible difference between sacramental transubstantiation and the miracle of the tilma.  Jesus hides himself under the accidents of bread and wine in order to exercise our faith and to assume a form by which we partake of Him as our food.  Mary sheds the accidents of the flowers in order to manifest herself as the Woman Clothed with the Sun.  In the Eucharist we humble ourselves through faith and reverence.  Through the lesser charismatic grace of the tilma we are given an extraordinary sign of Our Lady’s presence and reason for confidence in the midst of conflict.

This was precisely the case historically when Our Lady appeared in Mexico.  The power of hell had been unleashed in Mexico through a diabolical religion and through the vices of the Conquistadors.  God had his way through the Woman Clothed with the Sun.

Soon the novena in preparation for the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception will begin and within its octave we will celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  These are times in which we need unwavering confidence.  Make or renew an act of consecration to Our Lady.

St. Maximilian Mary Kolbe also saw the connection between the Eucharist and the power of the Immaculate Conception:

We want Her to think, to speak and to act through us. We desire to belong to the Immaculate to the extent that nothing will remain in us that is not Her, so that we may be annihilated in Her, transubstantiated into Her, changed into Her, that She alone remains, so that we may be as much Hers as She is God’s. She belongs to God, having become His Mother. And we want to become the mother who would give the life of the Immaculate to every heart that exists and to those that will still come into existence. That is the M.I.–to bring Her into every heart, to give Her life to every heart. Thus entering these hearts and taking full possession of them, She may give birth to sweet Jesus, who is God, that He might grow in them in age and perfection.

If Father Juan looks to an extraordinary sign to find the presence of the Woman Clothed with the Sun. St. Maximilian looks to our own transformation which is a matter of constant effort at purification through prayer and penance (annihilation) and the power of God through Our Lady (transubstantiation).

It’s the consecration, stupid.  Our Lady at Fatima told us this when the whole contemporary mess got started.  When are we going to figure this thing out?

It’s a bit ironic that the liberal party of self-governance and civil liberty has served us up a celebrity for a president whose cult of personality has permitted him to exercise an unprecedented kind of political paternalism. He has looked upon his candidacy as a “teachable moment,” and upon his victory in the Democratic primary as an event which restored “his faith in America,” as though the electorate owed him some kind of proof of its loyalty. Now he is putting forward this preposterous mandatory civilian security service, banking on the power of his creepy personality cult.

It’s not that Obama is altogether a phenomenon unto himself. This has been coming on for a long time. Why have we ever cared what celebrities think? Our thought processes have been formed by American Idol, and now we bow down before the empty suites that we have neatly arranged for our own destruction.

I am not one to complain about patriarchy, but the icon of a father is not a red, white and blue Obama, looking down from his perch of wisdom upon his needy children. No the real icon of a father is the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.

One of the earliest images of Our Lord used in the history of the Church is that of the Good Shepherd. In the catacombs of Rome, Our Lord was portrayed as a beardless young man who carried a lamb on his shoulders, calling to mind the parable of the lost sheep. It is a beautiful image, but it is only half the story. In the Gospels the Good Shepherd according to Our Lord is the one who lays down his life for his sheep. The Roman fresco of the Good Shepherd illustrates the paternal solicitude of Christ for the weak and the needy, His personal attention to the individual who is hurting, but Our Lord Himself applies the title of Good Shepherd to the one who stands up to the wolves to protect His sheep from death and himself is torn to shreds in the process.

I once saw a child’s crayon drawing of the Good Shepherd of Jesus wielding a spiked club, standing between the wolves and his sheep, and bleeding from the hands where He has been bitten by the wolves.  That’s Our Lord on the Cross.

Why don’t we have leaders like this? Because we don’t want them. Heaven forbid that we admit that we are weak and needy. Far be it from us to allow ourselves to be led by someone who has our best interests at heart, based on a commitment to the truth of Christ. Instead we throw our babies to the wolves and thank the lupine divinity for being delivered from the responsibility to care for them.