This week's new project I hope I will actually finish: reading Introduction to the Devout Life by St. Francis de Sales. I became interested in Salesian spirituality recently after reading a bit posted on Conversion Diary, and went on to read the book that Jen recommended. From what I have read so far, the aspect of Francis's spirituality that jumps out at me the most is an attitude of cheerful detachment. I could use a lesson in detachment for sure...
So I have decided to attack St. Francis's most well-known work, and see if therein lies the program I have been looking for.
Part 1, Chapter 1 is entitled "What true Devotion is." I love it when writers begin by defining their terms. It makes me feel like we are the same kind of thinker.
Here's a bit that should give anyone pause (I have added paragraph breaks for improved blogginess):
... we all colour devotion according to our own likings and dispositions.
Meanwhile all these people are conventionally called religious, but nevertheless they are in no true sense really devout....
- One man sets great value on fasting, and believes himself to be leading a very devout life, so long as he fasts rigorously, although the while his heart is full of bitterness;--and while he will not moisten his lips with wine, perhaps not even with water, in his great abstinence, he does not scruple to steep them in his neighbour's blood, through slander and detraction.
- Another man reckons himself as devout because he repeats many prayers daily, although at the same time he does not refrain from all manner of angry, irritating, conceited or insulting speeches among his family and neighbours.
- This man freely opens his purse in almsgiving, but closes his heart to all gentle and forgiving feelings towards those who are opposed to him;
- while that one is ready enough to forgive his enemies, but will never pay his rightful debts save under pressure.
[M]any people dress up an exterior with the visible acts expressive of earnest devotion, and the world supposes them to be really devout and spiritual-minded, while all the time they are mere lay figures, mere phantasms of devotion.
Ouch! It's very easy to convince ourselves that the good works we do are evidence that we love God. But I think what St. Francis is getting at here is that, while anybody is capable of doing some good and even pious things, if we are truly devoted to the Lord then our devotion will become the common root from which every good thing (and not just the good things we like doing) can flower.
I find there, too, a little bit of consolation for those of us who feel so many others are so much farther along than we are. Appearances of piety aren't everything.
Moving on, here's an analogy I like:
The ostrich never flies,--the hen rises with difficulty, and achieves but a brief and rare flight, but the eagle, the dove, and the swallow, are continually on the wing, and soar high;--even so sinners do not rise towards God, for all their movements are earthly and earthbound. Well-meaning people, who have not as yet attained a true devotion, attempt a manner of flight by means of their good actions, but rarely, slowly and heavily; while really devout men rise up to God frequently, and with a swift and soaring wing.
"Rarely, slowly, and heavily"... yeah, that sounds familiar. I like the image of the busy, somewhat lovable, but essentially common little hen for the "well-meaning people," and how he names three very different flighted birds as types for the devoted, as if to underscore that there's quite a lot of variety and diversity to be found among the kinds of devoted life that can be lived.
Of course, a hen can never become an eagle. A much more hopeful analogy is to be found near the end of the chapter:
See? The limp can be cured. Let's see if St. Francis can provide a program of exercises....Even as a man just recovering from illness, walks only so far as he is obliged to go, with a slow and weary step, so the converted sinner journeys along as far as God commands him but slowly and wearily, until he attains a true spirit of devotion, and then, like a sound man, he not only gets along, but he runs and leaps in the way of God's Commands, and hastens gladly along the paths of heavenly counsels and inspirations.
I liked this book, too, and was so impressed by its readability and accessibility in spite of the age of the work... Except that it made me feel really, seriously, severely inadequate in that give-up-before-you-start perfectionist way. Maybe I should try reading it again.
Posted by: Rebekka | 06 July 2010 at 12:52 PM