Today is Ash
Wednesday, of course, and the beginning of Lent. Happy Lent to you all, and may
it help us all grow closer to the Lord, to repent of our sins, and to renew and
deepen our baptismal commitment.
It seems
appropriate on this day of sober self-reflection to continue the Wednesday
series I’ve engaged in, reflecting on the pope’s examination of conscience to
the Roman curia and applying it to our own lives. We have come to the seventh
of fifteen spiritual ailments, and this one is:
The disease
of rivalry and vainglory. When
appearances, the colour of our clothes and our titles of honour become the
primary object in life, we forget the words of Saint Paul: “Do nothing from selfishness or
conceit but in humility count others better than yourselves. Let each of you
look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others” (Phil 2:3-4). This is a disease which
leads us to be men and woman of deceit, and to live a false “mysticism” and a
false “quietism”. Saint Paul himself defines such persons as “enemies of the cross of Christ” because “they glory in their shame,
with minds set on earthly things” (Phil 3:19).
Now of
course the reference to ‘the colour of clothes’ would seem to have a specific
reference to ecclesial careerism, where different ranks of church office are
indicated by various shades of purple and red (don’t ask me to explain this, as
it is something I have precisely zero interest in). And of course titles of
honour also come into play in curial circles, perhaps more than in the general
run of secular life for most people.
That being
said, let no one think themselves free of vainglory and rivalry. The Eastern
fathers of the desert are unanimous that it is a scourge of the interior life
that can last long after many of the more gross and carnal vices have been
conquered.
What is it,
exactly? It is finding our value, not in the just and merciful judgment of God
towards us, but in the good opinion of others. It is when what matters is not
what you do or who you are, but what people think
of what you do and are. And vainglory in its essence is a powerful damaging
force in our lives.
Our whole
being is to be so utterly God-centred—I think we can have a hard time grasping
that and staying true to that. We really are meant to have God as our life and
to care for nothing else very much but our life in Him and His in us. Of course
when we are faithful to that we become exceedingly compassionate and concerned
for our neighbours, since that is the nature of the God who we serve.
Vainglory
persistently and corrosively erodes that God-centricity in favour of human
respect. When we do good, not because it is what God asks of us, but for the
sake of being liked or appreciated or noticed. When we pray and fast and live a
dramatic spiritual life, not so as to become the saints of God He made us to be
but to put on some kind of a holy show.
And of
course vainglory is the great driver of compromise, of capitulating to the
spirit of the age or of sacrificing one’s moral convictions so that ‘the people
who matter’ will approve of us, or of that deadly silence when we really should
speak out against some evil that is being done before us.
I admit that
I don’t always follow Pope Francis’ thoughts entirely, and of course this is a very concise and brief treatment of vainglory he offers, so I’m not exactly
sure what he means by false mysticism and quietism in this matter. I would like
to hear him explain that further, to be honest—I’m sure he has something very
particular in mind.
Meanwhile,
it is Lent, and when we all go to church today to get our ashes we will hear
much about praying, fasting, and doing alms in secret (meanwhile getting soot
smeared on our foreheads, because we’re Catholics, and that’s just the way we
roll!). It is this whole business of God seeing us, God knowing us, and God
being the one to reward us—God, God, and God again, as the point of reference
of our lives. So we can go unrewarded—unthanked, unnoticed, unappreciated, disrespected—with
a peaceful spirit, if vainglory is not ruling our hearts.
The fathers
are clear that it takes a long time to eradicate this vice, so we can be
patient with ourselves in this matter as in all matters. And as we enter Lent
let’s strive to put our minds, hearts, and eyes where they belong—on the Lord
and his merciful love—and care for little but being a servant of that love and
its recipient in this life and in the next.
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