Between Human Vulnerability and Divine Strength

When I was still small, I perceived, perhaps through discernment of spirits, something sublime and beautiful, but did not know how to put it into words. It was not until later, when my mind had progressed, that this explanation took shape. I noticed a distinction between the Church and her members. Why?

A sort of dual personality

There is a kind of dual personality in the priest: the human individual, and a superior aspect joined to him like a flame to a candle

Highly respectful of the clergy, I used to say to myself that I was the most clerical man in the world, and that pleased me. Thus, after much contact with priests, I came to realize that they had, in the good sense of the word, a kind of dual personality.

One was the human individual; he could be a good, honest man, but a man like the others. Then there was another element, joined to him like a flame to a candle. One is not to be confused with the other: the flame lives from the candle, and the candle lives for the flame; however, the flame is one thing and the candle another.

This element, this principle, this force so superior to the cleric as a man, modelled his attitudes, thoughts and reflections and helped him to do all things very well, in the moral sense of the word, better than the average person usually does.

Reprehensible human aspects

There was, for example, a priest with whom, owing to the demands of the apostolate, I had to make a few car trips to Rio de Janeiro. I noticed in him certain human sides that could have been better and other aspects that were irreproachable. There were two different principles at work in the priest.

In those days, clerics wore a particular style of hat, entirely round, usually made of black felt and with an equally round brim. No priest dared to go out without a hat, and would never use a social hat.

As we left São Paulo and began to drive through the suburbs, I suddenly saw him draw out of a little case an American mechanic’s cap, a kind of soft dark green felt cap, and put it on his head. He passed his own hat to the chauffeur – who already knew where to keep it, which meant hiding it – showing a tendency to disguise the fact that he was a priest.

It seemed inexplicable to me that an ecclesiastic, considered one of the most respectable in São Paulo, should manifest a certain desire not to be a priest, that he would be tempted to stop being one, if possible. That made a bad impression on me.

On the first trip to Rio de Janeiro that I made with this cleric and another Marian congregant from the Church of St. Cecilia, he told us that he had an appointment at a restaurant with a priest from another Brazilian state and that we could attend the conversation. He introduced us, everyone greeted each other and we sat down. The waiter came, took our orders and left. Then the other priest said to him:

“So-and-so, look here, do you know about the latest thing?”

He replied, showing utmost interest:

“No. What is it?”

“Bishop So-and-so has sent word to Bishop Such-and-such that he does not agree with him about a certain Monsignor…”

A veritable political intrigue!… There was no one else present. My priest acquaintance, however, was extremely attentive. I realized how much the other knew about all this politics and devoured it with interest. That was the reason for the meeting: the other priest had more information, and so was going to pass it on to him.

The subject lasted from the beginning to the end of lunch, without us being able to say a word. Being at the table, it would have been entirely natural to ask us: “Are you studying? What course are you taking? How many years have you been a member of the Marian Congregation?” Questions intended to involve us in the conversation. Nothing.

Lunch over, we got up. What a relief!

Consideration for priestly dignity

On the return trip we had to stop at more than one hotel to have a meal, because the São Paulo-Rio de Janeiro road was very bad in those days, and the journey was a long one.

Notwithstanding the defects of his own nature, the priest has a special radiance when the divine light that dwells within him shines

In the hotel dining room there were often groups of people with a priest. It was usually a wedding that had taken place in the morning or afternoon, and the celebrant had been invited to take part in the festivities. He would then turn up and preside over the table. These celebrations were like banquets and were prolonged affairs. Our meal was very brief, so most of the time we finished first.

He would reverently make the Sign of the Cross and pray to end the meal, then go to the other priest’s table – often they were younger priests, and he was a man in his fifties – and greet him cordially, give his name and ask what the other’s name was. Everything was done with such respect, gentility and courtesy that you could see his regard for the priesthood.

Duality of principles

They were two different elements, one of which came from a certain principle alien to his psychology. If it were not for grace, he would not have acted in that way. It was like lamp that lights up: it is one thing when the lamp is switched off, another when it is lit up.

So there was at work a principle akin to an electric bulb that went on and off, like a light that dwelt within him but was not him, and which gave him a personal radiance far greater than is common.

I once stopped in a car in front of this priest’s house, on the upper floor of which his bedroom overlooked the front yard and the street. There was a trellis instead of a shutter to let air in, so that it was possible to see inside the room. He was dressed in a cassock, very neat, preparing the bed to sleep.

However, in the process of this preparation, the “lamp” turned off… He would stop and ponder over the best position for the blanket and the pillow. There were a thousand little comforts that deeply concerned him, and he worked out the problem of preparing the bed to afterwards get into it, like a person works out an algebra equation.

On the other hand, in this behaviour you could see an innocence of soul, the absence of inappropriate thoughts. He was a priest.

This led me to comprehend the duality of principles that existed in the same ecclesiastic.

Total love for the Holy Church

As a result, a kind of reasoning arose in my mind which I did not explain straight away, but which functioned as if I had explained it.

When I consider Fr. A, B, C or X, I see that they all have this same principle at work in them and that their qualities are always orientated in the same direction, so that when they obey this principle, the result is magnificent. However, there are other sides in which they are lax, do not obey, do not do things properly, and which result in something worthless.

There is, then, a duality. But that conclusion is not enough. After having examined and seen the presence of this duality, I must recognize that the principle that exists in each one of them is the same as that which acts in the others, distinct and superior to their person, a true marvel, and that it is the soul of the Catholic Church! Hence my unspeakable and boundless admiration for the Holy Church.

In other words, this principle is God, it is the divine grace given to souls, which influences, acts and works wonders.

Loving this principle is like loving a super-person: the Catholic Church, whose sap produces all that is most excellent and beautiful

Thus, loving this principle was like loving a super-person, who was not any of those priests. I was unable to say that it was God, that it was grace; I did not have enough religious instruction for that.

Consequently, I had a love for the Catholic Church which was quite literally total, because the conclusion drawn immediately afterwards was obvious: only the Church has value, where the sap of the Church enters, everything that is most excellent, most magnificent, most beautiful, just and reasonable is produced; where it does not enter, the worst filth ends up being the result.

Therefore, the solution to everything in the world is for this element, this soul of the Church, to be present, and for its influence to be facilitated in every possible way.

Longing for the victory of grace

I did not realize – because I applied this reasoning to priests and nuns, and not to the laity – that the principle by which I perceived this was the same in the priest and in all the faithful. It was grace, the Divine Holy Spirit acting on the Church, His temple, on me and on those imbued with Catholic impetus, with the Catholic instinct.

But I did realize the objective towards which I was entirely oriented, and that my only desire was for the victory of this principle over all the bad things in the world. The rest was of no interest to me.

The Catholic Church teaches that God’s grace is a gift, a created participation in His uncreated life, and so we live from the life of our Creator. That is the impetus which leads us toward our purpose. ◊

Excerpt from: Conference.
São Paulo, 31/12/1994