Author: tomlirish

TO LOVE GOD: A SHORT REFLECTION ON ROMANS 8:28

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

What I want to stress in this note is the importance of loving God (and what could be more important than that?). There are many tangents in Romans 8:28 – grace, justification, election, predestination, to put a name on them – but we can, in effect, overcome these theological considerations simply by loving God. Not all the Saints were great theologians, but they all loved God quite intensely. We might say, then, that your love of God is a great sign of your calling and election.

The verse – Romans 8:28 –  is quite clear and very powerful: God works for the good of those who love Him. The New Living Translation puts it this way: “And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” What does love do for us? Love unites us to the object we desire. Thus, the love of God unites us to God who is the source of all goodness and every blessing. God calls us to this love, gives us the grace to love Him, and indeed shares His life of love with us through the gift of the Holy Spirit.  “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:5). It is essential, then, that we nurture intimacy and friendship with the Holy Spirit Who is Love!

The key point, then, is that you must love God, and grow more and more in love with Him. You must love Him more than all things, more than yourself, and you must love yourself and your neighbor in Him. When you do this all is tilted towards your good, and the magnetic power and attraction of God’s omnipotent love draws you inevitably – no matter what happens – towards eternal glory. This powerful bond of love between you and God cannot fail. How cannot it not but work good for you because God is drawing you to Himself?

Dear friend, make the love of God a special object of your prayers. You might simply pray: “Oh Holy Spirit, I pray for the grace to fall deeply in love with God. I beg of you the grace to see how great God is, and how infinitely lovable He is. Oh Holy Spirit, help me to grow in the love of God.”

“We should, therefore, deem as nothing all that we give to obtain the priceless treasure of the love of God, of ardent love. He alone gives to the human heart the interior charity that it lacks. During the journey toward eternity, we must never say that we have sufficient love of God. We should make continual progress in love. The traveler (viator) who advances toward God progresses with steps of love, as St. Gregory the Great says, that is, by ever higher acts of love. God desires that we should thus love Him more each day. The song of the journey toward eternity is a hymn of love….” (Father Garrigou-LaGrange).

“IN ALL THINGS” God works for the good of those who love Him in all things. Are we deeply affected by this Gospel mystery? Does it fill our hearts with confidence, and even holy boldness, that if we “keep in His love” all things, everything, happy things and sad things, trial and afflictions, joys and sufferings, they all work for our good. We see this principle operating in the life of Jesus: because he loved God everything in his life worked for the good, so much so that his crucifixion on Calvary obtained an infinite good for humanity. Our love of God, therefore, gives us the certitude that God is secretly – or even explicitly – accomplishing the good he desires in all that we do and suffer. “The apostle [Paul in Romans 8] speaks as one amazed, and swallowed up in admiration, wondering at the height and depth, and length and breadth, of the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge. The more we know of other things, the less we wonder; but the further we are led into gospel mysteries, the more we are affected by them. While God is for us, and we keep in his love, we may with holy boldness defy all the powers of darkness” (Matthew Henry Bible Commentary).

By “all things” I conclude that St. Paul means all things, which would include any present difficulties you are undergoing. If you are loving God, these difficulties are all going to work for your good. A great spiritual writer, Father Grou, states: “Everything that happens here to the servants of God…is arranged by Infinite Love and Wisdom for their eternal happiness…. For, as long as they love God with a real, effective, and practical love, it is impossible for anything in the world to keep them back; on the contrary, everything will help to their advancement….” Every trial, then, is for our advantage! And if we are presently suffering through some trial or persecution, we should ask: “What good is God trying to work in my soul with this trial?”

Is Romans 8:28 the most most encouraging verse in the Bible? If it helps you to understand the crucial and critical importance of loving God during all the joys and adversities of life – well then, it certainly is!

Tom Mulcahy, M.A.

References: My discussion on love is based on and flows from Father Garrigou-LaGrange’s masterpiece, The Three Ages of the Interior Life (see especially Vol. I, Chapter 19). The quote from Father Grou is in Manual For Interior Souls, a book highly recommended.

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THE GOSPEL OF LIFE AND THE HEBREW BIBLE

IMG_1925

 “…the mere possibility of harming [life not yet born] is completely foreign to the religious and cultural way of thinking of the [Old Testament] People of God.”  (Saint Pope John Paul II, The Gospel of Life, no.44)

I am looking at the Old Testament – the Hebrew Bible – and I am reflecting on a remarkable phenomenon: that amidst pagan and even demonic cultures the Hebrew people affirmed in a most remarkable way the humanity of the unborn child. Illustrative verses include:

“Then the word of the LORD came to me, saying: “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you were born I sanctified you; I ordained you a prophet to the nations.” (Jeremiah 1:4-5) 

“What then shall I do when God rises up? When He punishes, how shall I answer Him? Did not He who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same One fashion us in the womb?” (Job 31:14-15) 

“For You formed my inward parts; you covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.” (Psalm 139:13-14) 

“Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward.” (Psalm 127:3)

Pope John Paul II, commenting on the Old Testament affirmation of life from its very inception in the womb, states:

“How can anyone think that even a single moment of this marvellous process of the unfolding of life could be separated from the wise and loving work of the Creator, and left prey to human caprice? Certainly the mother of the seven brothers did not think so; she professes her faith in God, both the source and guarantee of life from its very conception, and the foundation of the hope of new life beyond death: ‘I do not know how you came into being in my womb. It was not I who gave you life and breath, nor I who set in order the elements within each of you. Therefore the Creator of the world, who shaped the beginning of man and devised the origin of all things, will in his mercy give life and breath back to you again, since you now forget yourselves for the sake of his laws’ (2 Mac 7:22-23).”  (The Gospel of Life, no. 44)

The magnificent revelation in the Old Testament that both man and woman are created in the image and likeness of God (Genesis 1:27) was the foundation of a unique culture of life for the Hebrew people, from which would one day come a Savior safely hidden away in the womb of the Virgin before that first Christmas day.

Tom Mulcahy, M.A.

Ref. The photo is from the 2014 March for Life in Washington D.C.

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JANE EYRE: GOD IS A FRIEND TO THE POOR ORPHAN CHILD

(Charlotte Bronte)

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28)

Jane Eyre is a Romans 8:28 type of story because everything worked out for the good for Jane in the end, even though there were many formidable trials and tribulations along the way for her to endure and pass through. The theme of God’s providential care for Jane Eyre often goes unmentioned in the standard reviews and yet it is one of the underlying themes of the whole novel, along with Jane’s quest to be loved and respected.

One in fact often reads of Charlotte Bronte’s hostility to religion shown by the way she portrays ministers in Jane Eyre, and this was a criticism Charlotte Bronte confronted head on in her “Preface to the Second Edition” of Jane Eyre, stating:

“Having thus acknowledged what I owe those who have aided and approved me, I turn to another class; a small one, so far as I know, but not, therefore, to be overlooked. I mean the timorous or carping few who doubt the tendency of such books as “Jane Eyre:” in whose eyes whatever is unusual is wrong; whose ears detect in each protest against bigotry–that parent of crime–an insult to piety, that regent of God on earth. I would suggest to such doubters certain obvious distinctions; I would remind them of certain simple truths.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.

[A]ppearances should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is–I repeat it–a difference; and it is a good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.”

From the quote above we get a glimpse of Charlotte’s Bronte’s strong personal faith, and perhaps even infer why the theme of God’s Providential care for Jane Eyre is so central to the novel.

There are two early hints (or foreshadowing scenes) in the novel that point to the fact that Jane will be the object of God’s special care and providence (both occurring in Chapter 3 of the story). The first hint is the hymn sung by the nursemaid Bessie to Jane while Jane was a young (and mistreated) orphan at Gateshead under the care of her Aunt, Mrs. Reed. Here are some of the words to that hymn (apparently composed by Charlotte Bronte herself!):

God, in His mercy, protection is showing,
Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.

Ev’n should I fall o’er the broken bridge passing,
Or stray in the marshes, by false lights beguiled,
Still will my Father, with promise and blessing,
Take to His bosom the poor orphan child.

There is a thought that for strength should avail me,
Though both of shelter and kindred despoiled;
Heaven is a home, and a rest will not fail me;
God is a friend to the poor orphan child.

The second hint, or foreshadowing, comes just a few pages later when Jane learns that her father was a clergyman who died of typhus while helping out the poor. The text reads:

“On that same occasion I learned, for the first time, from Miss Abbot’s communications to Bessie, that my father had been a poor clergyman; that my mother had married him against the wishes of her friends, who considered the match beneath her; that my grandfather Reed was so irritated at her disobedience, he cut her off without a shilling; that after my mother and father had been married a year, the latter caught the typhus fever while visiting among the poor of a large manufacturing town where his curacy was situated, and where that disease was then prevalent: that my mother took the infection from him, and both died within a month of each other.”

So if there is a good clergyman in Jane Eyre it is Jane’s own father who died while helping out the poor! What could be dearer to God’s heart than that! I could argue that the tragic death of Jane’s parents is one of the keys to understanding Jane Eyre, but that would be supposition on my part! Still, as the hymn states, “God, in His mercy, protection is showing, Comfort and hope to the poor orphan child.” Now who is the poor orphan child?: – it is Jane Eyre. One need not be a literary guru to see the profound foreshadowing of God’s providential care for Jane in the two examples I have just discussed from Chapter 3.

So now, fast-forwarding to the end of the story, we see that, quite amazingly, things have truly worked out for the good of Jane Eyre! Unexpectedly, Mr. Rochester has undergone a profound religious conversion (he says, “I began to see and acknowledge the hand of God in my doom. I began to experience remorse, repentance, the wish for reconcilement to my Maker. I began sometimes to pray: very brief prayers they were but very sincere”). And near the very end of the novel, having married Jane, the narrator attests to Mr. Rochester’s profound gratitude:

“When his first born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes….On that occasion, he again, with a full heart, acknowledged that God had tempered judgment with mercy” (Chapter 37).

As to Jane herself, you, Reader, may ask: does Jane ever mention God’s providential care for her life? Well, here are a few examples:

“God must have led me on…I was weeping wildly as I walked along my solitary way…a weakness seized me and I fell: I lay on the ground some minutes, pressing my face to the wet turf. I had some fear – or hope – that here I should die: but I was soon up: crawling forward on my hands and knees, and then again raised to my feet – as eager and as determined as ever to reach the road” (Chapter 27).
“I felt the might and strength of God. Sure was I of His efficiency to save what He had made: convinced I grew that neither earth should perish, nor one of the souls it treasured. I turned my prayer to thanksgiving: the Source of Life was also the Saviour of spirits. Mr. Rochester was safe; he was God’s, and by God would he be guarded. I again nestled to the breast of the hill; and ere long in sleep forgot sorrow.” (Chapter 28)
“Oh, Providence! sustain me a little longer! Aid – direct me!” (Chapter 28)

Finally, at the end of the novel, Jane attests to the profound happiness and joy she has experienced in her marriage to Mr. Rochester, a marriage that came about by way of Jane’s abandonment to Divine Providence and Mr. Rochester’s dramatic and profound conversion:

“I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely for and with what I love best on earth. I hold myself supremely blest – blest beyond what language can express; because I am my husband’s life as fully as he is mine. No woman was ever nearer to her mate than I am: ever more absolutely bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. I know no weariness of my Edward’s society: he knows none of mine, any more than we each do the pulsation of the heart that beats in our separate bosoms; consequently, we are ever together. To be together is for us to be at once free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character – perfect concord is the result.” (Chapter 38)

CONCLUSION:

Jane Eyre is a Romans 8:28 type story. Everything has worked out for Jane’s good. God cares for the poor orphan child.

Tom Mulcahy, M.A.

Note: Does Charlotte Bronte ever allude to Romans 8:28 in Jane Eyre? Yes she does. In a foreboding moment before her wedding day, we hear Jane say these words to Mr. Rochester: “Yesterday I trusted well in Providence, and believed that events were working together for your good and mine….” (Chapter 25; Vol. II, Chapter 10). But after their failed marriage in Chapter 26, Jane will have to trust even deeper in God’s providential care for her life as she abandons herself to God under the most distressing of circumstances. So the reference to Romans 8:28 in Chapter 25 finds its true fulfillment in Chapter 38 when Jane ultimately marries the severely humbled Mr. Rochester.

Image: Portrait of Charlotte Bronte, the author of Jane Eyre, by George Richmond, as it appears at Wikipedia. The date is 1850. According to Wikipedia this work is in the Public Domain for the U.S.A., but may not be for other countries. See the Wikipedia article on Charlotte Bronte incorporated herein by reference.

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A VERY SHORT NOTE ON THE ANNUNCIATION TO MARY

                                              “Hail, full of grace”

Before Luke tells us about Mary’s Annunciation, he first tells us about the sanctification of John the Baptist in his mother’s womb (see Luke 1:15, “He will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from his mother’s womb”). So John the Baptist was sanctified before birth in Elizabeth’s womb (see CCC 717).

If God prepared John the Baptist for his mission in such an extraordinary way, what are we to make of Mary of Nazareth who was chosen by God to be the mother of a Divine son? Well, the first point to consider is the manner in which the angel Gabriel greets Mary. According to the ICSB, “this is the only biblical instance where an angel addresses someone by a title instead of a personal name.” The angel, God’s special messenger, greets Mary with an extraordinarily descriptive title, saying, “HAIL, FULL OF GRACE” (Luke 1: 28). This descriptive title tells us something very important about Mary, to wit: she is full of grace! Naturally, the angel is to be believed! But it goes much deeper than this.

As brilliantly explained in the ICSB, Luke could have described Mary as full of grace saying, in the Greek, pleres charitos, as he did for Stephen in Acts 6:8. But for Mary he chose a much more powerful expression, kecharitomene“[The Greek word used by Luke], kecharitomene, indicates that God has already graced Mary previous to this point, making her a vessel who ‘has been’ and ‘is now’ filled with divine life.”

Mary is Immaculate because she is full of grace, and this description of her is part of her deepest identity, which was made known by an angel sent by God Almighty, and revealed to us in the Gospel of Luke.

“And behold [Mary], you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus” (Luke 1:31).

Thomas L. Mulcahy, M.A.

Reference: As you can see, I am relying entirely on the Ignatius Catholic Study Bible. Obviously, there is so much more to be said about this amazing scene in the Bible called the Annunciation, and I have simply targeted in this note the meaning of the angel’s initial greeting to Mary. The Feast of the Annunciation normally occurs on March 25th, approximately nine months before Christmas.

Image: The Annunciation by Bartolome Esteban Murillo, around 1665, Public Domain, U.S.A.

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TWO POWERFUL QUOTES FROM THE SCARLET LETTER REGARDING SIN AND REPENTANCE

Hawthorne in the 1860s
(Nathaniel Hawthorne, Public Domain, U.S.A.)

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy” (Proverbs 28:13)

Here are the two quotes from Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter I am referring to:

“To the untrue man, the whole universe is false,—it is impalpable,—it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist” (Chapter 11).

“The judgment of God is on me,” answered the conscience-stricken priest. “It is too mighty for me to struggle with!” “Heaven would show mercy,” rejoined Hester, “hadst thou but the strength to take advantage of it” (Chapter 17).

I bring these two great quotes from The Scarlet Letter to your attention because I believe they are a powerful reminder of two of the most basic and fundamental aspects (or elements) of the Christian life – namely, that sin always harms us and that authentic repentance and acknowledgement of our sins heals us. The central message of The Scarlet Letter reminds us that man sins and God forgives; and that God’s forgiveness is infinitely more powerful and transformative than man’s sin, or even a community’s reaction to sin. The Scarlet Letter is ultimately about the triumph of the Divine Mercy! (see my post, “Who Was Saved in The Scarlet Letter?”).

With respect to the first quote from Hawthorne in Chapter 11 (who is, in essence, providing us with a theology of sin, “to the untrue man, the whole universe is false”), we have essentially a reflection on the tremendous psychological harm Rev. Dimmesdale endures due to the concealment of his sin, and Hawthorne draws this out in excruciating detail, and in a masterful way. Theological giants, such as Augustine and Aquinas, have commented that sin is “privatio boni, the absence, the privation, of good.” Sin is essentially “non-being,” or unreal, the very absence of all that is good. We might say, then, that “sin is the cause of all unhappiness,” and that is precisely the situation for Dimmesdale, who is profoundly depressed, and who is living an unreal existence. The point here is to come to grips with the harm sin causes in our lives. Thus, Hawthorne says, “To the untrue man, the whole universe is false,—it is impalpable,—it shrinks to nothing within his grasp. And he himself, in so far as he shows himself in a false light, becomes a shadow, or, indeed, ceases to exist”. Dimmesdale’s “diseased soul” is Hawthorne’s brilliant and remarkable demonstration of this principle (Dimmesdale “thus typified the constant introspection wherewith he tortured, but could not purify, himself.” – Chapter 11).

With respect to the second quote from Hawthorne in Chapter 17, we see that Dimmesdale lacks, of himself, the power and strength to properly repent of his sin, an effort which will require him to mount the scaffold in broad daylight and confess his sin! Dimmesdale is sort of like that Catholic man who lives just a few miles from his Church but somehow he can’t muster up the strength or the courage to get into his car on a Saturday afternoon and drive to church for Confession. He’s held back by some unknown force that makes the effort nearly impossible! And thus Hester cries out to Dimmesdale, “hadst thou but the strength to take advantage” of God’s mercy! Indeed, what do we need more in life than God’s mercy!

At some point when they meet in the forest, Dimmesdale and Hester decide on a purely human plan of (geographical) salvation: to leave Boston, to sail to Europe, and to get away from it all and start a new life. But after enduring vehement diabolical temptations on his walk home, Dimmesdale is given the grace to see that no amount of miles between himself and Boston can ever really solve his underlying problems of guilt and concealment. Thus, the true path to freedom for Dimmesdale will be to mount the scaffold of guilt and confession, to “unconceal” to all what he has been hiding for seven years. It is on the wooden beams of the scaffold that he can unveil his heart to the crowd, and reveal publicly his true situation. Hester, Pearl and even Mr. Chillingworth accompanied Dimmesdale onto the platform, and they too received life-changing graces there in solidarity with Dimmesdale.

CONCLUSION: The harm caused by sin and the great grace of true repentance are underlying themes in The Scarlet Letter. Hawthorne’s story reminds us that sin plunges us into an unreal life, where we become, in some sense, a “shadow” of our true self. But “If we confess our sins, [God] is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). The circumstances of Rev. Dimmesdale’s life teach us a great lesson: not only that sin does harm to our souls, but, moreover, that “God never abandons us in this mortal life,” giving us graces to the very end to truly repent of our sins, unhindered by concerns for human respect (an obstacle that Dimmesdale was ultimately able to overcome). Dimmesdale also teaches us not to delay repentance. God always gives us the strength to repent, and we simply need to take advantage of it!

Speaking of the grace of repentance in reference to that Catholic scaffold called Confession (see James 5:16; John 20:23) , Saint John Paul II makes the following profound observations:

“It must be emphasized that the most precious result of the forgiveness obtained in the Sacrament of Penance consists in reconciliation with God, which takes place in the inmost heart of the son who was lost and found again, which every penitent is.  But it has to be added that this reconciliation with God leads, as it were, to other reconciliations which repair the breaches caused by sin.  The forgiven penitent is reconciled with himself in his inmost being, where he regains his own true identity.  He is reconciled with his brethren whom he has in some way attacked and wounded.  He is reconciled with the Church.  He is reconciled with all creation.

As a result of an awareness of this…there arises in the penitent a sense of gratitude to God for the gift of divine mercy received, and the church invites the penitent to have this sense of gratitude.  Every confessional is a special and blessed place from which, with divisions wiped away, there is born new and uncontaminated a reconciled individual — a reconciled world!” (Apostolic Exhortation, Reconciliation and Penance, Paragraph 31, IV. (December 2, 1984).

Hawthorne emphasizes this “reconciled world” in the persons of Hester, Pearl and even Mr. Chillingworth, whose lives were profoundly changed for the better as a result of their solidarity with the dying Rev. Dimmesdale on the scaffold of redemption.

Tom Mulcahy, M.A.

References: An article from catholic.org on sin states the Catholic tradition that “sin is a horrible voluntary lapse into nothingness against the interest of the being and good of the creature.  St. Augustine’s definition is famous: sin is privatio boni, the absence, the privation, of good.  We find this notion also in the Summa of St. Thomas Aquinas.  S.T., Ia, q. 48, art. 1 c. “

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WHERE POETRY AND THEOLOGY MEET

(G.K. CHESTERTON, PUBLIC DOMAIN, U.S.A.)

Every now and then I get interested in poetry and spend some time reading a few poems. But to say I live immersed in the world of poetry would be flat out false! I’m no poet, and I owe it to you to say so.

But lately I’ve been listening to Christopher Lee’s enchanting recitation of Edgar Allan Poe’s disturbing but strangely enjoyable poem, The Raven, which has a certain “hypnotic rhythm” to it. The poem speaks to the narrator’s irreparable loss of the radiant maiden, Lenore, who has died (all of which haunts the mind of the narrator). Will he ever see Lenore again? The raven is sent to speak but one word to this man: “Nevermore.” Thus, those famous words from the poem: “Quoth the raven, ‘Nevermore!’ ” Could the poem possibly have any theological relevance? Is not the narrator living in a type of hell? And, theologically speaking, what is hell? “Approach the Father, Nevermore.” It seems to me that almost all the poems I have read contain theological relevance in one form or another, so that poetry touches upon theology, directly or indirectly.

Even Humpty Dumpty reminds me of my mortality, to wit: that there will come a day when even the best doctors won’t be able to put me back together again! And the memory of impending death is of incredible spiritual importance.

And Emily Dickinson’s depressing poem, “I heard a Fly buzz – when I died,” raises all those perplexing questions about the meaning of death and whether the soul is immortal. But for a Christian, if the evocative power of a poetic word is what makes poetry special, then a Word which actually became human very well might be the key to understanding everything. “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us.”

C.S. Lewis says that there is “no general agreement as to what ‘poetical truth’ means, or whether there is really any such thing,” but he adds, nevertheless, that “man is a poetical animal and touches nothing which he does not adorn.” Lewis argues that poetry has a particular power “of arousing and satisfying our imagination,” and that “there are two things the imagination loves to do. It loves to embrace its object completely, to take it in at a single glance, and see it as something harmonious, symmetrical, and self-explanatory.” Lewis’ point is that theology, while it is not poetry, can certainly fit poetry into the grand scheme of things because “the waking world is judged more real because it can thus contain the dreaming world….” He says: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen, not only because I see by it, but because by it I see everything else.”

Chesterton also speaks to the imaginative dimension of poetry. He says: “Imagination does not breed insanity. Exactly what does breed insanity is reason. Poets do not go mad; but chess-players do. Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and to make it finite. The poet only desires exaltation and expansion, a world to stretch himself in. The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. If the madman could for an instant become careless, he would become sane” (as edited). Mysticism, says Chesterton, “keeps men sane. As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity. The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic.” It is because poetry can express meaning with less restrictions than a purely rationalistic approach to life, and is therefore not enclosed in the “prison of one thought,” that it more closely approaches the frontier of “first principles,” the light of which “we look at everything” else.

Gerard Manley Hopkins says in one of his poems, “There lives the dearest freshness deep down things.” This famous verse from Hopkins seems to me to be almost the very aim and purpose of poetry: to dig deeper into the meaning of things by producing for us a poetical freshness and originality carved out of symbolically transformative words that express the very depths and transcendence of the human experience in amazing simplicity, concurrently charged with poetical rhythm, all of which sheds light on the meaning of life. As W.H. Gardner once observed of Hopkin’s poetry, there is in it the “sensation of inscape – a quasi-mystical illumination, a sudden perception of the deeper pattern, order, and unity which gives meaning to external forms….” Hopkins is one of the great religious poets, and one of the greatest poets of more recent times.

Paul Roche speaks to the epistemological and even metaphysical dimension of poetry (and the manner in which poetry draws from the primordial reality of things). Roche states that “the reason why pure poetry cannot be immediately understood is because it returns us to that level of immediate contact which is inaccessible to the conscious mind except in so far as it is sieved through the subconscious.” He says: “a double thing takes place in poetry: the idea is broken down again into the sensory data that gave rise to it and is re-incarnated into the symbols which are stored in the treasury of the subconscious. In other words, the idea is returned to the stratum of primary knowledge from which it came, and at the same time the incantatory pulse of the rhythm flows into the blood-beat of the universe, thus coaxing the spirit away from from the tight limitations of the cerebral and letting the psyche merge again with subliminal experience.” It is thus, says Roche, that this “poetic transmutation” becomes “analogously divine in the way that the divine essence permeates equally all….” Thus, “poetry reaches universality not by being universal in its language, but by being specific and particular, just as the senses are. It cuts into and from reality magical facets each one of which shines forth the whole.” What is more, says Roche, these “symbols, these carriers and unifiers of being, are not only images but also rhythms, because the universe is constituted in rhythm.” And this is why, at least for a moment, poetry can make “the universe as coherent and translucent as a drop of water.

Bob Lerner (a distinguished, contemporary poet) says that “poetry arises from the desire to get beyond the finite and the historical – the human world of violence and difference – and to reach the transcendent or the divine.” If we were to point to a place where theology and poetry meet it is in the use of symbolic and imaginative language in order to arrive at a deeper, more unified, more comprehensive view of life. And, theologically speaking, only a symbolic or metaphorical language can express an ultimate, supernatural truth. “Divine truth and grace are conveyed to us in earthen vessels, the infinite of the finite; the ineffable and the transcendent is clothed in visible forms and signs” (Karl Adam, edited). As St. Paul reminds us, “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face” (1 Cor. 13:12). Of course, Christianity also relies on historical facts and conceptual arguments in support of its truth claims. Poetry, and the poetic dimension of life, are contained within Christianity, with the added caveat that Christianity’s symbols and metaphors point to true, supernatural realities that represent a complete picture of life, therefore making sense of everything else. Could it be that man is a poetical animal because he is first and foremost a religious being?

Thomas Mulcahy, M.A.

References: Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton; “Is Theology Poetry?” by C.S. Lewis. Of Edgar Allan Poe, Chesterton states: “Poe, for instance, really was morbid; not because he was poetical, but because he was specially analytical.” And regarding the English poet, Cowper, Chesterton remarks: “…he was definitely driven mad by logic, by the ugly and alien logic of predestination…poetry partly kept him in health.”

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SPEAK LIFE: THE POWER OF KIND WORDS!

            “Little girl, I say to you, get up!” (Mark 5:41)

There is a popular Christian song by Toby Mac in which he encourages us to “speak life” to other people who are hurting. In the accompanying video to the song we see broken people brought back to life, so to speak, by encouraging words that speak life. Here are a few words from the song:

So speak life, speak life
To the deadest darkest night
Speak life, speak life
When the sun won’t shine and you don’t know why
Look into the eyes of the broken hearted
Watch them come alive as soon as you speak hope

Jesus spoke life, and, moreover, he is the Way, the Truth and the Life (John 14:6). One day Jesus entered the home of a twelve year old girl who had died, and he spoke words of life to her, commanding her to rise and get up, and amazingly, she did (see Mark 5: 22-43)! Jesus not only spoke words of life, but of Eternal Life, of unceasing life. “In the preaching of Jesus,” says Father Garrigou-Lagrange, “everything is immediately directed to eternal life.” Jesus is the principle of Eternal Life.

God the Father spoke words of life and encouragement to Jesus, saying, “This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matthew 17:5). Have you spoken life-giving words to your children as the Eternal Father did to Jesus? Speak life…and watch them come alive as soon as you speak hope! Let me say this: the Word of Life spoken by the Father (and from all eternity) is Jesus Christ (“and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us” – John 1:14). Jesus is Life. Draw closer to Him.

But how often do we not speak life? Worse than that, how often do we speak words of spiritual death? How often do we hurt other people because of mean or poorly chosen words?

The great Dominican and German mystic, Tauler, gives us this all-important advice:

“We must bridle the old, natural tongue. Children, above all arts, learn the art of guarding your tongue, and be careful about what you say, or no good will ever come of you. See to it that your words are to God’a honor, to your neighbor’s improvement, and to your own peace…. Your conversation should rest upon a solid basis of virtue rather than on glib speaking and subtleties. And you should speak with restraint and advisedly. By ill-considered words you can bring [great harm] on yourselves and on your hearers” (Spiritual Conferences, p. 184).

We should reflect deeply on the life-giving power of kind words. The great spiritual writer, Father Faber, says there is “hardly a power on earth equal to” kind words. He further points out that there are so many “fortunate opportunities” to be kind. When you think about it, the opportunity for great heroism may never come our way, but we can say kind things all day long! And what do kind words cost us (asks Faber)? Virtually nothing! But what is lost if we fail to speak kindly? As Faber points out, kind words are not only remedial, helping those in need of encouragement, they actually produce happiness. He says, “how often have we ourselves been made happy by kind words.” It “would be worth going through fire and water to acquire the right and to find the opportunity of saying kind words.”

Faber says that “not only is kindness due everyone, but a special kindness is due everyone.” And “is there any happiness in the world like the happiness of the disposition made happy by the happiness of others?,” Faber asks. “There is no joy to be compared with it.” “Kindness is the turf of the spiritual world, whereon the sheep of Christ feed quietly beneath the Shepherd’s eye.”

Jesus speaks life. We see throughout the Gospels the tremendous and extraordinary power Jesus possessed to affirm others! People in the presence of the most dire circumstances suddenly find their lives transformed by the dynamic, affirming presence of Jesus. Whether it be the woman at the well, Zacchaeus (the dishonest tax collector), the woman caught in adultery, the man who came to Jesus through an opening in the roof, or the immoral woman who dried Jesus’ feet with her hair, Jesus is authentically open to them, he makes time for them, he affirms and does not condemn them, and ultimately he liberates them from the tyranny of sin. Thus, as one example, he says to the woman caught in adultery: “Has no one condemned you? Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:10-11). And Zacchaeus comes away from his encounter with Jesus vowing to make restitution to all those he has defrauded (Luke 19:8).

Dear friend, speak life! And to do this we must learn the art of watching over very carefully what we say so that we are not – once again – “hung by the tongue.” Learn the art of guarding your tongue, and in the process you will become, more and more, a person who speaks life to the benefit of all who share in the grace of your kind and transforming speech!

Thomas L. Mulcahy, M.A.

P.S. Here is a link to Toby Mac’s song, Speak Life   

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZeBv9r92VQ0

Spiritual principle: The key and tremendously important spiritual principle being advanced here is watchfulness, whereby we keep a keen spiritual eye on what we are thinking and saying so as to bring our thoughts and speech under the law of Christian charity. Saint Paul says that we “take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5).

Image: Raising of Jairus’ Daughter by Ilya Repin (Public Domain, U.S.A.)

References: The quotes from Father Faber are from his famous essay,  “Kindness,” in his book, Spiritual Conferences (TAN). Although a long essay it is well worth reading and meditating on. Faber’s point that a special kindness is due to everyone, if taken to heart, has the power to increase our personal holiness. One word of caution: kindness and praise must be sincere and genuine. A false kindness, a calculated kindness, is easily detected. That is why we should pray to the Holy Spirit for the supernatural growth of the virtue of kindness. I am also relying on a beautiful little book entitled, Born Only Once: The Miracle of Affirmation by Dr. Conrad W. Baars, a Catholic psychiatrist. The great spiritual writer, Father Lallemant, once said:   “Everything in Jesus is a principle of eternal life.”

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C.S. LEWIS’ WARNING ABOUT MAN-MADE IDEOLOGIES AND THE ABOLITION OF MAN

“The fatal superstition that men can create values, that a community can choose its ‘ideology,’ as men choose their clothes.” (C.S. Lewis)

The great theologian, Saint Thomas Aquinas, tells us that man first sinned by the desire to define for himself what is good and what is evil. Saint Thomas says that “man sinned primarily in aiming at a resemblance of God in virtue of which he should be capable of fixing for himself moral good and moral evil” (Summa Theologica, II-II, q.163, a. 2.).

The C.S. Lewis scholar, Walter Hooper, tells us that the “Summa Theologica is a work Lewis used constantly,” and in The Abolition of Man C.S. Lewis provides a defense of the Natural Law and of objective values as against man-made ideologies that harm and dehumanize us, thus defending the tradition of universal moral norms just as Aquinas did.

With respect to the dangers of man-made ideologies Lewis states: “For the power of Man to make himself what he pleases means…the power of some men to make other men what they please.” Lewis adds that the “man-moulders of the new age will be armed with the powers of an omnicompetent state and an irresistible scientific technique” (pp. 72-73).

“They are like,” says Lewis, “men who have sacrificed their own share in traditional humanity in order to devote themselves to the task of deciding what “Humanity” shall henceforth mean.” It’s not like “they are bad men,” says Lewis. Having stepped outside the Natural law, these men have “stepped into the void.” They are “not men at all: they are artefacts. Man’s final conquest has proved to be the abolition of man” (p.77).

Lewis adds this grim observation: “I am very doubtful whether history shows us one example of a man who, having stepped outside traditional morality and attained power, has used that power benevolently.” Certainly, one can think of many modern examples where such power has been used to crush and control other human beings. Thus, says Lewis, “a dogmatic belief in objective value is necessary to the very idea of a rule which is not tyranny or an obedience which is not slavery” (84).

We now come to the crux of Lewis’ argument, to a quote and a warning which stands out as the key statement in the book, and which at the same time demonstrates Lewis’ literary prowess in expressing a philosophical idea and a grave concern in a few dazzling, power-packed sentences. Lewis says:

The process which, if not checked, will abolish Man goes on apace among Communists and Democrats no less than among Fascists. The methods may (at first) differ in brutality. But many a mild-eyed scientist, many a popular dramatist, many an amateur philosopher in our midst, means in the long run just the same as the Nazi rulers of Germany: Traditional values are to be ‘debunked’ and mankind to be cut out into some fresh shape at the will (which must, by hypothesis, be an arbitrary will) of some few lucky people in one lucky generation which has learned how to do it.

The belief that we can invent ‘ideologies’ at pleasure, and the consequent treatment of mankind as mere specimens, preparations, begins to affect our very language. Once we killed bad men: now we liquidate unsocial elements” (p. 85, slightly edited).

CONCLUSION:

“The [Catholic] Church’s firmness in defending the universal and unchanging moral norms is not demeaning at all. Its only purpose is to serve man’s true freedom. Because there can be no freedom apart from or in opposition to the truth, the categorical — unyielding and uncompromising — defence of the absolutely essential demands of man’s personal dignity must be considered the way and the condition for the very existence of freedom.

This service is directed to every man, considered in the uniqueness and singularity of his being and existence: only by obedience to universal moral norms does man find full confirmation of his personal uniqueness and the possibility of authentic moral growth. For this very reason, this service is also directed to all mankind: it is not only for individuals but also for the community, for society as such. These norms in fact represent the unshakable foundation and solid guarantee of a just and peaceful human coexistence, and hence of genuine democracy, which can come into being and develop only on the basis of the equality of all its members, who possess common rights and duties. When it is a matter of the moral norms prohibiting intrinsic evil, there are no privileges or exceptions for anyone. It makes no difference whether one is the master of the world or the “poorest of the poor” on the face of the earth. Before the demands of morality we are all absolutely equal” (Saint Pope John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor, 96).

COMMENT: When considering the current plethora of man-made ideologies and social constructs crowding the intellectual landscape, consider whether they are rooted in reality, in the natural law, in common sense, and in biological reality.

Thomas L. Mulcahy, M.A.

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A SHORT MEDITATION ON CHRISTMAS

A Meditation by G.K. Chesterton

Any agnostic or atheist whose childhood has known a real Christmas has ever afterwards, whether he likes it or not, an association in his mind between two ideas that most of mankind must regard as remote from each other; the idea of a baby and the idea of unknown strength that sustains the stars. His instincts and imagination can still connect them, when his reason can no longer see the need of the connection; for him there will always be some savor of religion about the mere picture of a mother and a baby; some hint of mercy and softening about the mere mention of the dreadful name of God. But the two ideas are not naturally or necessarily combined.

It has been created in our minds by Christmas because we are Christians; because we are psychological Christians even when we are not theological ones. In other words, this combination of ideas has emphatically, in the much disputed phrase, altered human nature. There is really a difference between the man who knows it and the man who does not. It may not be a difference of moral worth; but it is a plain fact about the crossing of two particular lights, the conjunction of two stars in our particular horoscope. Omnipotence and impotence, or divinity and infancy, do definitely make a sort of epigram which a million repetitions cannot turn into a platitude. It is not unreasonable to call it unique. Bethlehem is emphatically a place where extremes meet.

No other story, no pagan legend or philosophical anecdote or historical event, does in fact affect any of us with that peculiar and even poignant impression produced on us by the word Bethlehem. No other birth of a god or childhood of a sage seems to us to be Christmas or anything like Christmas. The truth is that there is a quite peculiar and individual character about the hold of this story on human nature; it is not in its psychological substance at all like a mere legend or the life of a great man.  It does not exactly in the ordinary sense turn our minds to greatness; to those extensions and exaggerations of humanity which are turned into gods and heroes, even by the healthiest sort of hero worship. It does not exactly work outwards, adventourously, to the wonders to be found at the ends of the earth. It is rather something that surprises us from behind, from the hidden and personal part of our being; like that which can sometimes take us off our guard in the pathos of small objects or the blind pieties of the poor. It is rather as if a man had found an inner room in the very heart of his own house, which he had never suspected; and seen a light from within. 

It is if he found something at the back of his own heart that betrayed him into good. It is not made of what the world would call strong materials; or rather it is made of materials whose strength is in that winged levity with which they brush and pass. It is all that is in us but a brief tenderness that is there made eternal; all that means no more than a momentary softening that is in some strange fashion become strengthening and a repose; it is the broken speech and the lost word that are made positive and suspended unbroken; as the strange kings fade into a far country and the mountains resound no more with the feet of the shepherds; and only the night and the cavern lie in fold upon fold over something more human than humanity.

Comment: The mysteries of our Lord’s life are packed with power, which is precisely the reason why we meditate upon them in the Rosary. 

Merry Christmas and a  Blessed New Year!

Thomas L. Mulcahy

Note: This highly edited and condensed quote is taken from The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton (from a much longer chapter called “The God in the Cave”). Chesterton’s book is highly recommended.  

Image:  Adoration of the Shepherds, circa 1622, by Gerard von Honthorst

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ELINOR DASHWOOD REPRESENTS BOTH SENSE AND SENSIBILITY (AND SO DOES MARIANNE AT THE END OF THE NOVEL)

“Marianne’s abilities were, in many respects, quite equal to Elinor’s. She was sensible and clever; but eager in every thing: her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation. She was generous, amiable, interesting: she was everything but prudent.” 

“The prudent carefully consider their steps” (Proverbs 14:15)

The proper management of toxic emotions is the central theme of Jane Austen’s much loved novel, Sense and Sensibility. In Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen, the psychologist, gives us her version of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy by comparing and contrasting the romantic lives of two sisters, Marianne and Elinor. Acclaimed novelist Margaret Drabble surmises that one of the reasons Jane Austen wrote Sense and Sensibility was in response to the prevailing “cult” of the “Sentimental Novel” and the “dangerous emotions it expressed and encouraged.” These popular novels “tended to elevate ‘feeling’ above reason” and were given to “sudden passions, fits of weeping and fainting, and acts of wild generosity.” In Sense and Sensibility Marianne represents this sort of uncontrolled emotionalism, and her older sister, Elinor, by way of contrast, demonstrates that emotional life, properly guided by reason or rational life, greatly assists in negating self-destructive conduct and living a happier, more fulfilling life. We are not talking here about a sort of Platonic superiority of reason over emotions, but of the proper integration of the two for a happy life, which is the happy situation for both Elinor and Marianne at the end of the novel.

Theologically speaking – and Austen will bring God and religion into the equation very briefly at the end of Sense and Sensibility – the beautiful emotions God has given us work tremendous good in our lives when they are under the guidance of our rational and spiritual faculties. A child lives his life primarily on an emotional level, but to mature he must gradually bring his emotional life under the control of right reason and spiritual life. We know very well that letting our emotions flow freely can be psychologically healing –  as in sharing our emotions and feelings with a friend or in therapy. But in a different context unregulated emotional life can be very damaging. In this sense if emotional life is not brought under the control and guidance of rational and spiritual life it can become a tyrant – and, in such circumstances, anger or sadness can even lead to violence or other destructive conduct. Take a look at Marianne Dashwood. What is the outcome of her massive, unchecked emotionalism?: – she nearly dies of mental and physical maladies occasioned by her grief over the handsome but duplicitous Willoughby.

Margaret Drabble comments: “It is in the portrayal of Marianne’s sufferings…that we reach the heart of the novel’s power, and find ourselves face to face with the conflict between emotion and control. [Marianne] suffers more intensely than any other Austen heroine. [Austen’s] description of the first, psychosomatic broken heart illness is particularly vivid and realistic. We learn of Marianne wandering restlessly from room to room, her deathlike paleness, her choking burst of tears, her almost screaming with agony, her hysterical nervous fever, her inability to eat. The psychological details of her illness are extremely convincing. This is not a distressed heroine from a sentimental novel; it is an observed and felt portrait” (as edited).

By way of contrast it would be a mistake to think of Elinor merely as an unimpassioned stoic who spurns emotional influence in favor of a calmer life. This is not how Jane Austen portrays her. Of Elinor Austen says:

“Elinor, this eldest daughter, whose advice was so effectual, possessed a strength of understanding, and coolness of judgment, which qualified her, though only nineteen, to be the counsellor of her mother, and enabled her frequently to counteract, to the advantage of them all, that eagerness of mind in Mrs. Dashwood which must generally have led to imprudence. She had an excellent heart;—her disposition was affectionate, and her feelings were strong; but she knew how to govern them: it was a knowledge which her mother had yet to learn; and which one of her sisters had resolved never to be taught.”

Austen tells us that Elinor’s feelings were strong, but she knew how to govern them. This statement of Austen is essentially the whole meaning of the novel. It is the lesson Marianne will learn only by way of the most painful of purifications, from which she essentially emerges a new woman, with a deeper understanding of herself and life.

And to demonstrate Elinor’s deep emotional life, we come to one of the most emotional scenes in all of literature, where Austen describes Elinor’s reaction upon suddenly learning that Edward had not married Lucy and was free to marry Elinor:

“Elinor could sit it no longer. She almost ran out of the room, and as soon as the door was closed, burst into tears of joy, which at first she thought would never cease. Edward, who had till then looked any where, rather than at her, saw her hurry away, and perhaps saw—or even heard, her emotion; for immediately afterwards he fell into a reverie, which no remarks, no inquiries, no affectionate address of Mrs. Dashwood could penetrate, and at last, without saying a word, quitted the room, and walked out towards the village—leaving the others in the greatest astonishment and perplexity on a change in his situation, so wonderful and so sudden;—a perplexity which they had no means of lessening but by their own conjectures.”

“But Elinor,- how are her feelings to be described? From the moment of learning that Lucy was married to another, that Edward was free, to the moment of his justifying the hopes which had so instantly followed, she was every thing by turns but tranquil. But when the second moment had passed, when she found every doubt, every solicitude removed, compared her situation with what so lately it had been,- saw him honourably released from his former engagement,- saw him instantly profiting by the release, to address herself and declare an affection as tender, as constant as she had ever supposed it to be,- she was oppressed, she was overcome by her own felicity; and happily disposed as is the human mind to be easily familiarised with any change for the better, it required several hours to give sedateness to her spirits, or any degree of tranquillity to her heart.”

We must remember, too, that Elinor also had suffered from a broken heart, not only from her knowledge of Edward’s secret engagement to Lucy, but also from the direct communication that Edward had married Lucy (which turned out to be mistaken). But, rather than let her emotions tailspin into a nervous breakdown, she maintained her “composure of mind,” and was the “comforter of others in her own distress,” despite immense personal suffering and the inability of “openly showing that I was very unhappy.” Under all these distressing circumstances Elinor remained “mistress of myself.”

Marianne’s redemption and cognitive rehabilitation comes about through introspection and valuable self-knowledge that causes her to see the rightness of Elinor’s conduct in comparison to her own. This is Marianne speaking in a confessional, remorseful tone near the end of the novel:

“My illness has made me think — It has given me leisure and calmness for serious recollection. Long before I was enough recovered to talk, I was perfectly able to reflect. I considered the past; I saw in my own behaviour since the beginning of our acquaintance with him last autumn, nothing but a series of imprudence towards myself, and want of kindness to others. I saw that my own feelings had prepared my sufferings, and that my want of fortitude under them had almost led me to the grave. My illness, I well knew, had been entirely brought on by myself, by such negligence of my own health, as I had felt even at the time to be wrong. Had I died, it would have been self-destruction. I did not know my danger till the danger was removed; but with such feelings as these reflections gave me, I wonder at my recovery, — wonder that the very eagerness of my desire to live, to have time for atonement to my God, and to you all, did not kill me at once. Had I died, in what peculiar misery should I have left you, my nurse, my friend, my sister! — You, who had seen all the fretful selfishness of my latter days; who had known all the murmurings of my heart! — How should I have lived in your remembrance! — My mother too! How could you have consoled her! — I cannot express my own abhorrence of myself. Whenever I looked towards the past, I saw some duty neglected, or some failing indulged. Everybody seemed injured by me…. Here ceased the rapid flow of her self-reproving spirit; and Elinor, impatient to sooth, though too honest to flatter, gave her instantly that praise and support which her frankness and her contrition so well deserved.”

And at the very end of the novel Jane Austen narrates the conclusion of Marianne’s remarkable transformation into a prudent, mature woman:

“Marianne Dashwood was born to an extraordinary fate. She was born to discover the falsehood of her own opinions, and to counteract, by her conduct, her most favourite maxims. She was born to overcome an affection formed so late in life as at seventeen, and with no sentiment superior to strong esteem and lively friendship, voluntarily to give her hand to another! — and that other, a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment, whom, two years before, she had considered too old to be married — and who still sought the constitutional safeguard of a flannel waistcoat!

But so it was. Instead of falling a sacrifice to an irresistible passion, as once she had fondly flattered herself with expecting — instead of remaining even for ever with her mother, and finding her only pleasures in retirement and study, as afterwards in her more calm and sober judgment she had determined on — she found herself at nineteen, submitting to new attachments, entering on new duties, placed in a new home, a wife, the mistress of a family, and the patroness of a village.”

CONCLUSION: The inter-relatedness between emotional life (sensibility) and rational life (sense) is the great theme of Sense and Sensibility. Simply put, the proper regulation of emotional life produces well-being and happiness. Left unchecked, excessive sensibility is a sure prescription for disaster as Austen demonstrates through Marianne. But sensibility, properly integrated with sense – that is to say with reason – directs the passions and emotions to be guided by right reason. Marianne and Elinor can teach us a lot about the meaning of life, and the path to emotional well-being, if we take the time to study their character development. Marianne’s mind and heart were sabotaged by her excessively romantic spirit, and her healing came through the profound discovery or realization that she had deceived herself about the true nature of love. The mistake made by so many of the interpreters of Sense and Sensibility is to say that Marianne represents sensibility and Elinor sense. In actuality, Jane Austen shows us that Elinor represents both sense and sensibility, and this too is the happy situation for Marianne at the end of the novel (she, too, now embodies sense and sensibility). By way of her transformation, Marianne did not lose the ability to love passionately, but rather she gained the knowledge to do it prudently and virtuously. “Marianne,” says Austen, “could never love by halves, and her whole heart became, in time, as much devoted to her husband as it had once been to Willoughby.”

Thomas L. Mulcahy, M.A.

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