St. Therese of Lisieux

Today is the Feast St. Therese of Lisieux (also known as The Little Flower) on the Catholic liturgical calendar. Happy Feast!

I want to mention this wonderful Saint and Doctor of the Church for a virtue I haven't heard referred to her very often: meekness. Perhaps this is because her humility is so radiant we don't stop to consider this other virtue which was so closely allied to her humility.

Meekness is, I think, a virtue which in our times is especially overlooked, misunderstood, and undervalued.

Indeed, St. Therese, whose spiritual life is called, "the little way," was blessedly humble. But she was also marvelously meek. (This word is so misunderstood I still find resistance within myself to using it as a positive attribution, even though I know it is a great virtue). Perhaps, if this can be said, if the other virtues aside from humility were ranked according to how humble they seem, meekness would be at the top.

I'm not sure how closely this corresponds with more expansive and precise definitions of meekness, but the way I think about it, meekness is that virtue which enables a person to absorb any sort of personal assault, offense, or irritation--no matter how big or small--without lashing back in any way that would contravene Christian charity. To be able to immediately respond to personal offense or annoyance with love, with no bitterness in one's heart, is the height of meekness.

Here's where people get confused. Meekness is not equivalent to becoming a door mat. Meekness is not being a wimp. Jesus, the most meek of all ever to walk this earth, was no wimp; nor was he a door mat. When I think of our Lord's meekness I see Him nailed on the cross, in the midst of great suffering, saying "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." The pinnacle of fortitude is perfectly compatible with the pinnacle of meekness.

It seems to me the Little Flower is a beautiful example of meekness because in many and various ways during her days in the convent, she absorbed small hurts, annoyances, and irritations without responding in an unkind way. When faced with small crosses she became so successful at transforming temptations toward frustration or anger into spiritual acts of penance and love that her sisters in the convent did not know what her dislikes were, whether food, chores, or particular personalities. But she was meek not only in small, but also in great ways. When she became ill with tuberculosis (which ended up killing her) and was suffering pain and had bouts of coughing, she did not reveal outwardly that she was in pain. So much was this the case that some of her sisters (that is, until Therese became so ill she would collapse) thought she may have been faking her illness.

Now, it is not a great thing to react once or twice to small annoyances with calmness and equanimity. But to do this without fail--especially when one lives in an enclosed community and sees the same faces every day--and to do this consistently for love of one's sisters and for Christ--this is truly heroic.

May we all strive toward authentic Christian meekness, that meekness so powerful it can absorb the nails of the cross without malice.

If you want to learn more about her spirituality, I Believe in Love, is an excellent book that does a good job of helping you enter into her Little Way. (And of course her duly famous spiritual memoir is Story of a Soul.)

Therese of the Child Jesus and the Holy Face, pray for us!

Do Catholics Commit Idol Worship?

While having a pleasant evening last night with a friend and several of her acquaintances, I was reminded of an all-too-common belief among some Protestants: that Catholics (some of them, anyway), when they pray in front of statues or images, are practicing a form of idolatry.

I want to comment on this from the point of view of what it would actually require to really be able to conclude truthfully and honestly that another human being is engaging in idol worship. I'll start by laying out some basic facts that all people of reason and fair judgment should agree with.

Real idol worship (indeed, any worship, for that matter) is an act that is not primarily external but mainly internal to the one doing it. In other words, you cannot tell what is truly in a person's heart--whom (or what) they are worshiping--from outside observation alone. Worship is essentially determined by what comes from the center of a person's soul--from the heart. It does not essentially derive from one's physical gestures or surroundings.

Here is a corresponding observation: You cannot tell that a person regards something as an idol and is worshiping it simply by what physical objects are in front of him, nor, by his physical gestures. For example, some Christians have Sunrise services on Easter Sunday morning. Nothing wrong with this! Now, such a service may involve facing East, toward the rising sun, and engaging in gestures and words of worship. From external appearances only, this might appear similar to ancient pagan sun-worship. Would it be fair, then, for an observer to conclude, without speaking to the worshipers about what they intended in their hearts, that they were worshiping the rising sun? Of course not! Or, consider this. Some Christians like to have some sort of devotional space set up in their home--a place set aside to pray, read the Bible, and worship God. No problem! Now, this might include putting a Bible in a position of special prominence, perhaps on a special stand or pedestal, highlighted with a decorative cloth, and perhaps even a display of real or artificial flowers nearby. An observer might see the pious Christian kneeling in front of the Bible and praying, hands clasped, and conclude, "this person is worshiping the Bible" (as in, the physical book in front of her)--"she is making a physical book into an idol and worshiping it." Would such a conclusion be reasonable or fair, without asking the person what was in her heart as she prayed? No. Certainly not.

I simply would like to point out that the very same consideration should apply to Catholics. By the mere fact that a Catholic is praying, including kneeling, in front of a statue or a religious image, does not by any means prove that they are worshiping that statue or image. And to conclude that they are doing so, without bothering to ask, is tremendously uncharitable. I would even suggest, that to presume that the largest group of Christians in the whole world (more Christians are Catholic in the world than any other group) are idolaters, without knowing what is in their hearts when they pray in front of a statue or image, is incredibly contrary to the love and good will that we are called upon by Christ to have for fellow Christians. We are to love one another, and should presume the best of each other, not the worst.

Any preacher or Christian evangelist who makes any sort of blanket statement implying that people who pray in front of statues or images (i.e. Catholics) are idolaters, is in fact assuming the worst of his fellow Christians. He is presuming to read the hearts of such people, when in fact he does not know what is truly in their hearts at all.

I could go into a Buddhist temple and kneel silently near a statue of Buddha, and yet I could still pray an ardent prayer to Christ in my heart. It might look, from the outside, like idol worship. But, it would not be. Simply being in front of a Buddha would not make any difference to what the prayer in my heart truly was.

I might have a picture of a deceased loved one on my wall. If, on occasion, I were to kiss my fingers and touch the photo, would I thereby be worshiping the photo? Of course not. No fair person would suggest this. The gesture would represent affection for the person represented in the image, not for the image itself.

If I ask another Christian to pray for me for a specific intention, am I thereby making that person an idol? Of course not. If I am especially eager to ask a person who is especially close to Jesus--someone considered holy--to pray for me for a specific intention, would I be making that person an idol? Of course not. It is only natural to have a little more personal emotional investment in asking a person who is very prayerful and Christ-like to pray for you than someone who is less remarkable in this way.

Now, bring all the above to bear in the situation of a Catholic kneeling in prayer in front of a statue of a Saint, and let's say even kissing his fingers and then touching the statue (something I have personally done). First, as I do so, I am by no means worshiping the statue. In truth, any claim I am doing so is highly unjust, and frankly, silly. What am I doing? There is only one being I am worshiping--and that is God, in the persons of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. Period. No one else is being worshiped. But what am I doing, then, with the statue? Well, I am simply asking another disciple of Christ--the particular Saint the statue represents--to pray on my behalf for particular intentions. Unless we believe that Christians cease to exist when they die, there is nothing odd about asking a deceased disciple of Christ to pray for me. They are still part of the body of Christ, alive in heaven, and still are able to pray on behalf of others just as people alive on earth can pray for others when asked. And, just as I might be more emotionally moved as I ask someone living whom I consider very holy to pray for me, so too, I am emotionally moved as I ask a brother or sister in heaven to pray for me. So, the gesture of kissing the statue is not worship of the statue. It is simply a very normal, human expression of a particular emotional and spiritual bond that I feel with a particular Saint, especially as I ask him or her to pray on my behalf. It is no more odd or shocking than hugging someone physically living here on earth as I ask him to pray something special for me. This is very human, very normal, and has nothing at all to do with idolatry. The Saint whose statue I kiss--knowing that the statue only symbolizes the person (like kissing a picture of my grandmother)--is not a fiction. This person is a real person, alive now in heaven. And, by the grace of God, I will see this person someday in eternity in the bliss of heaven as we worship our Savior together. I do not think our Lord will mind as I thank my brother for his prayers on my behalf. Isn't this mutual care and concern part of what it means to be brothers and sisters in Christ?