Fulton Sheen wrote These Are the Sacraments in 1962. The majority of his insights are based on the liturgical rites for each of the sacraments in 1962. As a result, there is a lot of interesting reflections that do not directly pertain to the administration of the sacraments today. For my summary, I focused mainly on insights pertinent to today’s use of the sacraments. I encourage you to read the book yourself 🙂 The bold font is direct from Sheen. The normal font are my notes.
Introduction: The Sacraments
A Divine Sense of Humor
“No one can ever understand the sacraments unless he has what might be called a “divine sense of humor.” A person is said to have a sense of humor if he can “see through” things; one lacks a sense of humor if he cannot “see through” things… To materialists, this world is opaque like a curtain; nothing can be seen through it. A mountain is just a mountain, a sunset just a sunset; but to poets, artists, and saints, the world is transparent like a windowpane; it tells of something beyond; for example, a mountain tells of the power of God, the sunset of His Beauty, and the snowflake of His Purity.
When the Lord Incarnate walked this earth, He brought to it what might be called a “divine sense of humor.” How so? Well, the only thing Christ took “seriously” in this world was the human soul. Everything else was a tell-tale of something else. Sheep and goats, wine and bread, poor and rich. Christ revealed that this whole universe is sacramental, that is, everything physical points to and participates in a spiritual world. Christ lived this preeminently in His own life. He was the living Sacrament. His human nature was the perfect instrument of His divine nature. For example, Christ spoke, “Be still!” and the storm ceased immediately (see Mark 4:35-41). In addition, Christ often brought in the material things of this world to communicate spiritual changes. For example, Jesus “spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes” (John 9:6), and the blind man was healed.
Jesus gave this same spiritual and “instrumental” power to His Mystical Body, the Church. Peter, for example, said to the crippled beggar, “In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, stand up and walk” (Acts 3:6), and the crippled man jumped up in full health. In Acts 19, when handkerchiefs that had merely touched Paul’s skin were placed on sick people, they were healed of their diseases, and evil spirits were expelled. Sheen concludes: “The divine life of Christ is communicated through His Church or His Mystical Body in exactly the same way that His divine life was communicated when He walked on earth. As He then used His human nature as the instrument of divinity, and used material things as signs and symbols of the conferring of His pardon, so He now uses other human natures and material things as the instruments for the communication of that same divine life” (30).
Why did Sheen write this book, then? Because we live “in a world that has become entirely too serious” (24). Sheen wants us to live again with a “divine sense of humor,” that is, see everything in this world as signs of the living God – passing signs that we will eventually say “Goodbye” to and leave behind to encounter the Real, the Eternal, the Living God.
1: The Sacrament of Baptism
“[W]ater is an excellent symbol of Baptism, because it is an open sign of separation. Water very often is the natural boundary between city and city, state and state, nation and nation, continent and continent, tribe and tribe. Those who live on one side of water are “separated” from those who live on the other. In the early days, before rapid communication, it was a dramatic experience to pass from one territory to another. This symbolism, therefore, was well-fitted for the Divine Master to indicate the separation of the Christian from the world, as the water which was divided in the Red Sea was a symbol of the separation of Israel from the slavery of Egypt. Once the Jews had crossed the Red Sea, another symbol was used to “separate” them as the people of God, and that was circumcision. Not only was it a token of their covenant or testament with God, but it was required of all Israelites who partook of the Passover. In the New Testament, the same order is followed. Baptism, or incorporation into the Church, is the condition of reception of the New Passover, the Eucharist. As ranchers brand their cattle, as ancient Romans branded their slaves, so God branded His own, both in the Old Testament and in the New; with circumcision of the flesh in the Old and circumcision of the spirit, or Baptism, in the New” (35-36).
“It may be objected, what good does a little water do when poured upon the head of a child? One might just as well ask what does a little water do when poured into the boiler. The water in the boiler can do nothing of and by itself, nor can the water on the head of a child. But when the water in the boiler is united to the mind of an engineer, it can drive an engine across a continent or a ship across the sea. So too, when water is united to the power of God, it can do more than change a crystal into life. It can take a creature and convert him into a child of God” (36).
“In a very special way, Baptism is related to the Death and Resurrection of Christ. In order to be saved, we have to recapitulate in our own lives the Death and the Resurrection of Christ. What He went through, we have to go through. He is the pattern, and we have to be modeled after Him. He is the die, and we are the coins that have to be stamped with His image. In all of the sacraments, the virtue of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ is in some way applied to us. In Baptism, there is a very close relationship between the burial and the resurrection. The catechumen is plunged into the water as Christ was plunged into death. We say plunged into death because of the words of our Lord: “There is a baptism I must be baptized with, and how impatient am I for its accomplishment” (Luke 12:50). Baptism not only incorporates us into the death of that which is evil in us, but also to the Resurrection of Christ, and therefore, to a new life” (38).
“The actual moment of Baptism comes when the priest pours water on the head of a person, saying: “I baptize thee, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” The personal pronoun “I” refers not only to the priest, but to Christ who speaks through the tongue given Him by the Church as He spoke through the tongue given Him by Mary. As the portals of the flesh once opened to the life of the human, now the womb of the Church opens and exults: “A child is born.” St. Augustine said this is a greater act than the creation of the world, for it blots out our debt of sin to God, Original Sin if it be an infant, original and personal sins if it be an adult” (48).
2: The Sacrament of Confirmation
Confirmation and Spiritual Battle
Confirmation, like every other sacrament, is modeled upon Christ, and reaffirms some aid or gesture in His life (56). Just as the Holy Spirit’s descended upon Christ in the Jordan River, which was a type of anointing that prepared Him for spiritual combat (Luke 4:1) & ordained Him to the mission of preaching the Kingdom (Luke 4:18-19), so too we receive Confirmation to be prepare for spiritual warfare.
In Confirmation, our foreheads are anointed with chrism in the Sign of the Cross by the Bishop, who is our general in the military of the Church. Sheen said that this is our “spiritual tattoo” for battle, “Confirmation tattoos us in the army of the Lord” (62). We are now part of God’s army and must start living for others: “The mystical death one undergoes in Baptism is individual: in Confirmation, the mystical death is communal. We are prepared to die, to be a martyr, or a witness to Christ for the sake of the “body which is the Church” (Col. 1:24)” (64).
Additionally: “A slight blow on the cheek is given the person confirmed to remind him that, as a soldier of Christ, he must be prepared to suffer all things for His sake. To deny one’s faith for a passing carnal pleasure, or to surrender it under ridicule, is far more serious in the eyes of God than a soldier deserting his duty” (61).
Confirmation and Pentecost
“About three years later, at the Last Supper, our Blessed Lord promised to send the Spirit to His Apostles, disciples, and followers, which He did fifty days after the Resurrection on Pentecost. It would seem better if our Lord had remained on earth, so that all ages might have heard His voice and thrilled to the majesty of His person; but He said it was better that He leave, otherwise the Spirit would not come. If He remained on earth, He would have been only an example to be copied, but if He sent the Holy Spirit, He would be a life to be lived” (57).
“Confirmation is a kind of Pentecost to a baptized soul. Christ dwelling in the flesh would normally be in one place only at one time, but His Spirit, unbound by fleshy bonds, could cover the earth, working on a million hearts at once. Nor would such hearts be without comfort at His physical absence, for the Spirit He called “another Comforter” (58).
“Pentecost was not the descent of a book, but of living tongues of fire. Confirmation gives the lie to those who say that “the sermon on the mount is enough for them.” Our Lord’s teaching, as recorded in the Gospels, was implemented, complemented, and revealed in its deeper meaning through the Spirit of Truth He gave to His Church. We indeed know Christ by reading the Gospels, but we see the deeper meaning of the words, and we know Christ more completely when we have His Spirit” (59).
“The laity are summoned by Confirmation to share in the apostolate of the Church, to be witnesses to Christ before those who know Him not, to be prophets or teachers in an unbelieving world and, together with the priesthood, to offer their bodies as a reasonable sacrifice to the Heavenly Father” (65).
3: The Eucharist
A sacrifice and sacrament: “The Sacrament of the Eucharist has two sides: it is both a sacrifice and a sacrament. Inasmuch as biological life is nothing but a reflection, a dim echo, and a shadow of the divine life, one can find analogies in the natural order for the beauties of the divine” (69). Think about bread and wine. The wheat and grapes are first “sacrificed” (pulled out of their environments, submitted to the laws of death, passed through the crushing and fermenting processes) in order to become bread and wine. The bread and wine, in effect, become “natural sacraments” for the body of man. They participate in “communion” with us when we receive them. We lift them up into a higher life. They share our life.
The Mass & Marriage: “The Mass has three important parts: the Offertory, the Consecration, and the Communion. In the order of human love, these correspond to engagement, the marriage ceremony, and the consummation of the marriage” (72). In the Offertory, “as the ring is a symbol of the lover offering himself to the beloved, so too, the bread and wine are the symbols of a person offering himself to Christ” (72). Bread and wine symbolize the basic nourishment of life and the readiness to sacrifice. In the Consecration, we experience a type of marriage ceremony in which Christ says that He will give Himself totally to us – He lays down His life in sacrificial love. We too, present on the altar under the appearance of the bread and wine we offered, are called to say “I do” and also respond with, “Jesus, this is my body, this is my body, take it. I give my whole substance to You, too!” In Communion, there is a type of marital consummation. All love craves unity.
“If human love craves oneness, shall not Divine Love? If husband and wife seek to be one in the flesh, shall not the Christian and Christ crave for that oneness with one another? The memory of the Christ who lived twenty centuries ago, the recalling of His mercy and miracles through memory, the correspondence with Him by reading the Scriptures — all these are satisfying, but they do not satisfy love. There must be, on the level of grace, something unitive with Divine Love. Every heart seeks a happiness outside it, and since perfect love is God, then the heart of man and the heart of Christ must, in some way, fuse. In human friendship the other person is loved as another self, or the other half of one’s soul. Divine friendship must have its mutual “indwelling”: “He who dwells in love dwells in God and God in him” (1 John 4:16). This aspiration of the soul for its ecstasy is fulfilled in the Sacrament of the Eucharist” (68).
The Offertory: “[T]he readiness to sacrifice himself for the beloved is revealed in the bread and wine; no two substances have to undergo more to become what they are than do wheat and grapes. One passes through the Gethsemane of a mill, the other through the Calvary of the winepress before they can be presented to the Beloved on the altar. In the Offertory, therefore, under the appearance of bread and wine, the faithful are offering themselves to Christ” (72-3). In addition, when the priest separately consecrates the bread & wine, this symbolizes the death of Christ: “The separate Consecration is a kind of mystical sword dividing Body and Blood, which is the way our Lord died on Calvary” (76).
The one perfect offering: “This is the only perfect act of love, sacrifice, thanksgiving, and obedience which we can ever pay to God; namely, that which is offered by His Divine Son incarnate. Of and by ourselves, we cannot touch the ceiling because we are not tall enough. Of and by ourselves, we cannot touch God. We need a Mediator, someone who is both God and man, who is Christ. No human prayer, no human act of self-denial, no human sacrifice is sufficient to pierce Heaven. It is only the Sacrifice of the Cross that can do so, and this is done in the Mass. As we offer it, we hang, as it were, onto His robes, we tug at His feet at the Ascension, we cling to His pierced hands in offering Himself to the Heavenly Father. Being hidden in Him, our prayers and sacrifices have His value. In the Mass we are once more at Calvary, rubbing shoulders with Mary Magdalen and John, while mournfully looking over our shoulders at executioners who still shake dice for the garments of the Lord” (76).
4: The Sacrament of Penance
Instituted by Christ: Our Blessed Lord said that He, as “the Son of Man, had authority to forgive sins” (Mark 2:10). Our Blessed Lord was saying that God in the form of man had the power to forgive sins; that is to say, through the instrumentality of the human nature, which He received from Mary, He was forgiving sins. Here is an anticipation of the fact that it is through humanity that He will continue to forgive sins; i.e., through those who are endowed with sacramental power to do so. Man cannot forgive sins, but God can forgive sins through man. Our Lord conferred this power on His priests. He used the metaphors of “binding” and “loosing” to imply “hearing confessions,” because how would the priests of the Church know which sins to forgive and which sins not to forgive if they did not hear them?
Divinely instituted: “One can be very sure that this sacrament is not of human institution, for if the Church had invented any of the sacraments, there is one that it certainly would have done away with, and that is the Sacrament of Penance. This because of the trials that it imposes upon those who have to hear confessions, sitting in the confessional box for long hours while listening to the terrific monotony of fallen human nature. Because it is a divine institution — what a beautiful opportunity it is to restore peace to sinners and to make them saints!” (92)
The practical need: “The Sacrament of Penance is for spiritual wounds received after Baptism. Original sin was washed from the infant in Baptism, and in the case of the adult, personal sins as well. But the Lord is “practical.” He knows that the white robe given in Baptism is not always kept immaculate; that the “just man falleth seven times a day” (Prov. 24:16), and that the offenses against us should be forgiven “seventy times seven” (Matt. 18:22). Therefore, in His mercy, He instituted a sacrament which is a tribunal of mercy for spiritual healing” (85).
Two things are required: “In order that there might be a Sacrament of Penance, two things are required, both of which are, from a human point of view, almost impossible to find. First, one must create the penitent and, secondly, one must create a confessor. To create a penitent, one must take a man in his pride, enveloped in a glacial silence, which refuses to unburden its guilt, and say to him: “Thou shalt come to a man and kneel before him — a man who is perhaps no better than you are — and you shall tell him what you hide from yourself and your children. You shall tell him that which makes you blush; and you shall do all of this on your knees. However difficult it may be to create a penitent who will confess everything with a firm purpose of amendment, it is even more difficult to create the confessor. Where find one empowered by God with authority to forgive sins? How train the human heart to heal the wounds of others, and then seal his lips forever that what he has learned as God’s representative be never revealed to men? Only God could bring these two creations together, for outside of His power and mercy, we would say: “Humanity is too proud, you will never have penitents”; “Humanity is too indiscreet, you will never have confessors.” And yet the sacrament exists. There are penitents because there are confessors, and there are penitents and confessors because Christ is God” (88).
Examining your conscience through the lens of mercy: “It must not be thought that in the examination of conscience one concentrates on his own wounds; rather he concentrates on the mercy of God. A sick person thinks less of his own sickness than the physician who will heal him. The examination of conscience develops no complex, because it is done in the light of God’s justice. The self is not the standard, nor is it the source of hope. All human frailty and human weakness are seen in the light of God’s infinite goodness. Sorrow is aroused, not because a code has been violated, but because love has been wounded. As an empty pantry drives the housewife to the bakery, so the empty soul is driven to the bread of life. Examination of conscience, instead of inducing morbidity, becomes an occasion of joy. There are two ways of knowing how good God is: one is never to lose Him through the preservation of innocence; the other is to find Him again after He has been lost. There is no self-loathing, there is only a God-loving character about the examination of conscience. We put ourselves in God’s hand as we would put a broken watch in the hand of a watchmaker, certain that he will not ruin it, but will make it function well. The closer we get to God, the more we see our defects. A painting reveals few defects under candlelight, but the sunlight may reveal it as a daub. It is true that we do find ourselves quite unlovable in the examination of conscience, but it is this that makes us want to love God because He is the only One who loves the unlovable” (97-98).
The confessional box of hope: “When one has finished the examination of conscience, there may be a load to drag into the confessional, which is sometimes called the “box.” If it is a “box,” it is not Pandora’s, for at the bottom of it is hope. Then we realize that we are bringing it to Christ Himself. It is wonderful to know that there is one place where we can taste the freedom of Heaven, where a man can be spared the hypocrisy of maintaining a pose. There comes the joy of knowing that neither the penitent nor the priest ever recalls the sin confessed. A shutter drops. Something is put into a well, and a cover is laid on it forever” (98).
Contrition: The other sacraments demand that the subject has proper dispositions, but they do not constitute the matter of the sacrament. In Penance, sorrow is not only a condition; it is the matter itself; for without the sorrow for sin, forgiveness is not granted. The priest gives absolution from sins in the sacrament provided there is sufficient sorrow of mind, or contrition, which is a hatred of the sin committed with the resolution not to sin again. The word contrition is taken from the Latin word which means to grind or pulverize; in an applied sense, it means being bruised in heart. Contrition is a sorrow of mind, not an emotional outburst or psychological remorse… There are two kinds of contrition: perfect and imperfect. Both are implied in the Act of Contrition which the penitent says in the confessional: And I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell [imperfect sorrow], but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, who art all good and deserving of all my love [perfect sorrow]. Two kinds of fear serve as the basis of distinction between the two kinds of contrition or sorrow: one is a servile fear, the other is a filial fear. A servile fear is a fear of punishment, which we justly deserve from a master whom we disobeyed. Filial fear is the fear that a devoted son might have for a loving father; namely, the fear of injuring him. Applying this to contrition, servile fear draws us toward God because of the dread of a punishment for sin, namely, Hell. Filial fear is a dread of being separated from God, or of offending Him whom we love. Imagine twins who had disobeyed a mother in exactly the same way. One of the twins runs to the mother and says: “Oh, Mommy, I am sorry I disobeyed. Now I can’t go to the picnic, can I?” The other one throws her arms around the mother’s neck and weeps: “I’ll never hurt you again.” The first has imperfect contrition, the second perfect contrition. Which kind of contrition, perfect or imperfect, is sufficient in sacramental Confession? Imperfect contrition is sufficient, though it is our belief that most penitents are sorry not because of the punishment their sins deserve from God, but rather because they heartily are sorry for having re-crucified Christ in their hearts. (100-101).
“That makes a word about perfect contrition more imperative. The usual attitude of penitents is to make a personal equation between their own sins and the Crucifixion. Each one says in his heart as he receives the sacrament: “If I had been less proud, the crown of thorns would have been less piercing. If I had been less avaricious and greedy, His hands would have been dug less by the steel. If I had been less sensual, His flesh would not be hanging from Him like purple rags. If I had not wandered away like a lost sheep, in the perversity of my egotism, His feet would have been less driven with nails. I am sorry, not just because I broke a law: I am sorry because I wounded Him who died out of love for me.” Our Lord had to die on the Cross before the abysmal dimensions of sin could be appreciated. We do not see the horror of sin in the crimes paraded in the press, nor in the great crises of history, nor in the wholesale violence of persecutors. We see what evil is only when we see Goodness nailed to the Cross. If any of us says in our heart, “I am not as bad as those who crucified Him,” we are forgetting that they did not crucify our Lord; sin did. They were our representatives, our ambassadors, that day at the court of Satan. We empowered them with the right to crucify”(101).
Penance between friends: “At the end of the Confession, the priest gives to the penitent what is called a “penance,” a certain number of prayers to say, or fasting, or the giving of alms, or acts of mortification, or a way of the Cross, or a Rosary. All of these are to “make up” for the sin, and to prove that the sorrow was sincere. This is what Catholics call “saying my penance” or “doing my penance.” God does not ask us to make an exact reparation for our sins, but rather to do it in a proportional manner. This is because the Sacrament of Penance is less a tribunal of strict justice than a reconciliation between friends. The priest, representing Christ, is not a judge sentencing a criminal to prison. The penitent is not an enemy. He is a reconciled friend, and the reparation, penance, or satisfaction is the work of friendship between members of Christ’s Mystical Body. The penance also has a medicinal value, that of healing the wounds of the soul, which is why it has to be performed in a state of grace. Our Lord forgave our sins on the Cross, but He paid for them in justice. Our Lord forgave the thief on the right, but He did not stop his crucifixion. The pain the thief endured was a reparation for his evil life. Penance is a sign that we are applying Christ’s death on Calvary to ourselves” (103-104).
“We are never made worse by admitting we are brokenhearted, for unless our hearts are broken, how can God get in?” (109).
5: The Anointing of the Sick
St. James, in describing the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick, puts the emphasis on the healing: “Is one of you sick? Let him send for the presbyters of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil and the Lord’s name. Prayer offered in faith will restore the sick man, and the Lord will give him relief; if he is guilty of sins, they will be pardoned” (5:14–15).
“Here it is to be noted that the people who are to benefit are not necessarily those at death’s door, but the sick. The sick man is described as one able to call in the priests of the Church. St. James says also that the prayer of faith shall save the sick man, which is the physical side of the sacrament; the forgiveness of sins being the spiritual side. The purpose of the sacrament is clear from the fact that the person is sick — not the body alone, nor the soul alone. All the sacraments are aimed at a single whole, made up of matter and spirit. Even the Eucharist pertains to the body, as well as the soul, for our Lord said that He would “raise up on the last day” those who would receive it (John 6:55). Sickness has spiritual repercussions: no person can be sick in body without having his soul disturbed. The Anointing of the Sick, therefore, is to some extent psychosomatic” (112-3).
“There are two sacraments of healing: one for spiritual illness, which is the Sacrament of Penance; the other for physical illness, which is the Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick. An older term for it was “Extreme Unction,” which some interpreted as meaning that it was administered only when death was inevitable. For that reason, the sacrament was sometimes postponed until there was no hope of recovery, so as not to frighten the recipient or unduly sadden the relatives and friends. This is a misinterpretation of the sacrament which is directed to the uncertainty which sickness implies; the sacrament looks to sickness as such. Two extremes are to be avoided, one which would say it was destined only for death; the other, that it is solely a grace of healing. It is rather a sacrament for the time of serious sickness; that is why it may not be given to those who are facing death for any reason other than illness” (110).
6: Holy Orders
“The priest, or the bishop, in his daily round, is a minister of God, a messenger from another world, bringing upward to God prayers and adoration, and bringing down from God graces and blessings to the people. He is to lay hold of anything and anybody who wills to be ennobled curiosity, or an accountant, like Matthew at his desk, or a fellow-traveler with the enemy. His feet are scarred from thorns, where the lost sheep or the fallen-aways have become entangled; they are to be dusty from searching and sweeping for the lost coin of spiritual wanderers. From proud tempers, he will meet ridicule and insult; from the blasphemer, blows; from the oppressed, entreaty; from the poor, a pleading. But he is one who after every contact should inspire others to say as the woman at the well: “Come and have sight of a man who has told me the whole story of my life; can this be the Christ?” (John 4:29). No case to him is hopeless. Every soul must be to him like the drop of water in the ugly gutter which, looked at closely, reflects the deep serious blue of the far off sky. He knows that he cannot convince others that he comes from another world, unless he acts as if he had been there. The world may see his acts, but they do not know his thoughts. When he mounts the altar, he carries with him all the woes and the wounds of the world. His feet, that walk up the altar steps, must have on them the imprint of the homeless, the refugees, and the wanderers of the earth. His face, as he kisses the altar, should bear within it the faces of those whose eyes are blasted before furnaces, darkened in salt mines, wet with the tears of grief and furrowed with the worry of sin. His vestments should be heavy with the millions of souls who know not Christ and yet who are clinging to his vestments, hoping for they know not what. As his fingers lift up the Body and Blood of Christ, he asks that all the sufferings of the world be united with Christ and that no pain go to waste. He will feel sad, because he knows how men are bitterly losing the good in their lives, but he will be consoled knowing that God is near them even if they know it not; around them, even though they perceive it not. In his conversations, he will seek to lift flippancy into reverence, controversy into thoughtfulness, frivolity into practical life. When he mounts the pulpit, he should be a speaking crucifix. But above all, he will not be just a priest, but a victim, for Christ was that, offering Himself for our salvation. There will be no tear shed by fellow man that does not bedew his own cheek; no mourning parent who will not pierce his heart with grief; no sheep who will be without a shepherd. And because he knows that he is too often a priest offering Christ, and too seldom a victim sharing His Cross, he will daily pray to the Mother of Christ: Since you formed Christ the priest and victim in thy body, form Him, I beg thee in my heart. Do this, that in addition to the words of Consecration at Mass, I may say them, as thou didst gaze on thy Son on the Cross: “This is my body; this is my blood.” Then I shall, through thy help, live and die with Him. (140-142).
7: Matrimony
Marriage: A Symbol of the Nuptials of Christ and the Church: “Marriage as a sacrament belongs to an entirely different order than the mere union of man and woman through a civil contract. It basically regards a husband and wife as symbols of another marriage; namely, the nuptials of Christ and His Church. The Sacrament of Matrimony is not a pious extra added to the marriage contract; it is rather the elevation of a natural marriage contract to the order of grace, in which the husband loves the wife, as Christ loves the Church, and the wife loves the husband as the Church loves Christ. The husband and wife are not just a symbol of the union of Christ and the Church; they enjoy a real participation in that union. As Christ lives in the Church and the Church in Christ, so the husband lives in the wife and the wife in the husband, and the two are in one flesh” (145).
“Because Matrimony images forth in the order of flesh the union of Christ and the Church, it follows that it is unbreakable” (150).
“This primary end of Matrimony brings the couple in relationship to the Divine Trinity, as the duality of husband and wife ends in the begetting of children, the third term in their love. This is in keeping with the very nature of love, which may be defined as a mutual self-giving which ends in self-recovery. All love must be a giving, for without a giving there is not goodness; without self-outpouring there is no love. In marriage, love is first a mutual self-giving, for love’s greatest joy is to gird its loins and serve” (153).
“But if love were only mutual self-giving, it would end in self-exhaustion, or else become a flame in which both would be consumed. Mutual self-giving also implies self-recovery. The mutual self-giving of husband and wife, like the love of earth and tree, becomes fruitful in new love. There is a mutual self-surrender as they overcome their individual impotence by filling up, at the store of the other, the lacking measure. There is self-recovery as they beget not the mere sum of themselves, but a new life which makes them an earthly trinity. Love that is ever seeking to give, and is ever defeated by receiving, is the shadow of the Trinity on earth; therefore, a foretaste of Heaven” (153).
“Since marital love is the shadow cast on earth by the Love of Christ for His Church, then it must reflect Christ’s redemptive quality. As Christ delivered Himself up for His spouse, so there will be some wives and some husbands who will deliver themselves up to Golgotha for the sake of their spouse” (156).
“Just as in the spiritual life there is the “dark night of the soul,” so in marriage there is the dark night of the body. The ecstasy does not always endure. In the days of romance, the emphasis is on the ego’s durability in love. Later on, the Christian sees that marriage is not two persons directed toward one another, but rather two going out to a common purpose beyond themselves” (156).
Conclusion
Nature: “Nature, in general, has a role to play in religion. Some parts of nature, namely those which Christ used in a special way, will be the material side of sacraments, or the chariots upon which Christ rides triumphantly into souls. Since creation fell indirectly through man, why should not material creation be made as a channel for the spiritual and divine, as His human nature was the visible sign of His invisible goodness and love?” (161).
“When the incarnate Son of God burst the bonds of death and rose to glory, it was revealed that the physical universe would now groan in pain until it is destined to be transformed as a perfect instrument of the Spirit, that is, until there is a new Heaven and a new earth. In the meantime, the Church makes use of material things out of this creation and associated action and prayer with it. Water, bread, wine, oil, and other things are made effectual signs of the spiritual gifts which God bestows upon His people through the Church as agency” (173).
Prodigal Catholic 
Leave a comment