The School of Paul

If it is true that every human soul is an image of the Infinite God, it is also true that in some respects no two images are quite alike. From Mary Immaculate down to the last and least in God's great calendar, each individual presents a new reflection of the Infinite Holiness, and saint differs from saint in sanctity as star from star in glory. A gracious dispensation is this; tor thus, among the endlessly varied types of holiness, each epoch, each class, each person may discover a model possessed of peculiar attractions. Nor does the cultivation of a special devotion to this or that saint in any way imply a departure from the spirit of À Kempis, or a sin against the teaching of the Church. Rather, we may say, that a particular affection for some one saint is a first instinct with fervent Catholics. Experience, moreover, proves the legitimacy of this impulse, since we all find valuable aids to progress in the fostering of a special love toward those particular men and women whose characteristics or histories possess peculiar personal charm for us.

Among the saints most fascinating to the age and country in which we live, a certain preeminence must be accorded to the man whose - conversion is commemorated by the Church on the twenty-fifth day of the month of January. Often enough, during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, Saint Paul has been depicted as an attractive ideal of sanctity, as an embodiment of the characteristics which appeal most powerfully to the noblest instincts of the modern mind. In other words, we are taught to believe that if our civilization is to be crowned with the glory of holiness, the work must be done by souls formed on the type of him whom Saint Augustine named "the great Apostle" - men of high ideals, void of selfishness, submissive to authority, filled with the spirit of prayer, consumed with zeal for God's glory, counting all else as loss beside the excellent knowledge of Christ, and yet withal impulsive, energetic, practical, determined, tireless, broad-minded, independent, free-spirited, progressive, intolerant of defeat. Not a few thinkers, deeply concerned with the development of religious life in our generation, affirm that the type of manhood representing what is best among us will be led to attain the summit of divine love only when the lessons taught by Saint Paul have been faithfully learned! We, then, who are eager for the building up of Christ's Kingdom must carefully study this remarkable saint, and realize what is implied in the great sanctity of a man whose characteristics were refined, developed, and consecrated by grace, but whose powerful personality seemed least subdued when by his own testimony he was living no longer his own life, but the life of the Christ within him.

This special affection which our contemporaries cherish for Saint Paul is based, in a great measure, upon their strong sense of fellow-feeling with him. True, an outline of the early Roman Empire constructed to demonstrate its resemblance to our own society might reveal as many difficulties as proofs for the thesis. Yet, putting aside the question of a close analogy of this sort, we can affirm that at least the historic Paul of the first century strikingly resembles the ideal Christian of the twentieth. Exchange Hellenistic Greek for English, and his dress for ours. Forget that we worship in magnificent temples and with a splendid ritual, whereas Paul adored Christ in the humble upper chambers of Troas and Ephesus; that we are born in the presence of a mighty organization which he helped to establish; that we inherit a perfected liturgy and ceremonial, only the simple beginnings of which were known to him; that larger worlds than his age dreamed of now reverence the religion at whose cradle he watched. Disregard this surface contrast; and it becomes evident that, as the faith he preached is one with the faith which we profess, so are the traits predominant in him identical with those which we consider to be the essential requirements of a true Christian character. Thus strong is the kinship of the oldest church and the youngest, thus tightly welded is the chain binding the ancient Asiatics and the races that crowd upon this new continent, thus similar the ideal of Paul to the ideal of America. What our energetic people need, and what they thoroughly appreciate when obtained, is a teacher who counsels them to consecrate without destroying liberty and activity, one who shows them by personal example how in a busy, hurrying life they may remain mindful that in the inner sanctuary of their souls dwells the living God, Whose "temple not made by hands" their bodies are.

As in theology, so too in real life, the workings of grace give rise to most intricate problems. When to pray, and when to act? what share of our success to attribute to divine influence, and what to our own eternal vigilance? when to trust Providence, and when to exert our best personal energy? which human inclinations to suppress, and which to foster and supernaturalize? - these are questions continually tormenting the earnest seeker alter holiness. In choosing a vocation should we follow our natural attrait as a God-given sign, or ignore it from dread of lurking selfishness? Should we sometimes stand out against the counsel of others, or always humbly yield? Should we maintain principle rigidly, or become adaptable; be strong or gentle, determined or winning? Should we renounce or tenderly care for father and mother, sisters and brothers; invite criticism or disregard it; secure ourselves from the danger of excessive affection within an impenetrable reserve of strive to. charm all men by sweetness? Such problems constantly confront every one undertaking to lead an intelligently devout life. The ability to solve them is an uncommon gift; yet without a theory of action, both true and workable, no man can become what God destines him to be. The matter, moreover, possesses a special interest for those whose minds are vigorous and inquisitive, whose natural powers are strongly developed, whose intellectual honesty is of a high degree, and who will neither rest content with evasive statements nor accept an inconsistent theory.

Men of this stamp turn quite naturally to Saint Paul. In addition to being the great doctor of grace, he exhibits a perfectly harmonious personality. From him we learn a spiritual doctrine unspeakably sublime, yet in thorough accord with human nature. His life is an object-lesson in perfection. If one wishes to plan a campaign against the enemies inner and outer, which swarm the passage from the lowest to the highest point of spiritual ascent, he may well seek guidance from the man who, beginning as a blasphemer and a ravager of the Church, became later the bondsman of Christ, an Apostle, an ecstatic; who was blessed with visions and revelations, was momentarily snatched up into Paradise while yet alive, and was finally crowned with the shining halo of martyrdom. What an arduous life and what a marvelous growth! The humble weaver of goat's hair is transformed into a leader of the most glorious march of conquest recorded in history. Drilled in the science of a decaying Pharisaism, he flashes over the world the unquenchable light of a teaching never to be equalled for depth or sublimity. Once scorned or ignored by the schools clustered on the banks of the swift-flowing Cydnus, he is now addressed as master by the mightiest intellects of the human race. If during life he was obscured by a host more eminent than he, since his death he has been sought out by the most - famous scholars of Christendom, who drink eagerly at the exhaustless fountains of divine wisdom discoverable in his writings - writings penned not with ink but rather with the spirit of the living God." The conquered subjects of Alexander and Napoleon were few compared to the numbers that have trooped after the banner raised by Paul. The organization of imperial Rome was weak beside that of the institution he spread among the nations. The fame of Homer and of Plato cannot be called enduring if contrasted with his.

An effect so mighty argues no ordinary cause. But, some one says, in all this how slight was Paul's influence, and how great the action of God! Here, indeed, a vital point is touched upon. How little was due to Paul? how much to God? What was effected by divine grace, and what depended on the man's co operation? These questions, to be sure, never will find an answer. But seeing the course of his labors and their results, we do perceive one thing to be certain: that Saint Paul had fathomed the mystery puzzling us, that he had learned when to act and when to let God act, that he knew how to discern the time of speech and the time of silence, the hour for giving battle and the day of rest. This, then, at least we may be sure of, that he can throw light upon dark places in our path. So we shall look to him to learn the way of waging warfare victoriously. He will teach us how to fight, yet not as those that beat the air. Few men have given to the world so frank and complete a self revelation as the great Apostle. The Acts narrate his achievements, the Epistles reveal his inner life. As confessions his letters contrast strikingly with the morbid egoism of semi degenerate minds whose nicely-prepared confidences are so often and so obtrusively thrust upon us nowadays. His self-disclosures are unaffected. They come warm from the heart. Hence, Paul's sayings are sometimes hard to understand; but, on the other hand, they repay study far better than the lines of the deepest poets. As we read, the many-sided genius of the man gradually discovers itself, and once we have found out his meaning, and met the writer face to face, we listen to what may be called a familiar monologue on that most absorbing of all topics, human relationship with God. Then, too, as he is opening up great spiritual vistas for us, we catch a glimpse now and again of secret depths in his own soul, some chance word or phrase throwing strong sudden light upon his character and revealing the wonderful workings of divine grace within the fiery spirit of this most ardent of the saints.

What do we discover to be the hidden root of his glorious growth? Can we give concrete expression to our estimate of him? Can we analyze his peculiar excellence? Often men have said that the love of Jesus Christ was the root-idea of Paul's theology and the inspiration of his sanctity. But how did it come about that he loved the Savior thus fervently? Is it possible for us to delve deep enough to see why Christ's love took so strong a hold upon his inmost being and controlled his life so absolutely? If we can do this, no doubt the result will teach us lessons of strange power, will reveal in their simplicity the essential principles of spiritual perfection, and will help to settle many of the problems clamoring to us for solution.

Be it said, then, that the very bone and marrow of Saint Paul's spiritual being was his clear perception of, and perfect conformity to, the movement of God within his soul. His specialty, if we may so call it, was the true relation of grace and nature, the harmonious working of the divine operations in the supernatural and in the human order, the concurrence of the Infinite Will and the finite will, the interaction of Almighty God and Saul of Tarsus. To him Jesus Christ was God in the flesh, perfection realized, divinity manifested. The humanity of Jesus bridged over the chasm between heaven and earth, between God and not-God. Therefore every fiber of Paul's being reached forth to grasp the Word Incarnate, clung fast to Christ, grew into Him, "dissolved"? as far as might be into oneness with Him, so that Paul became God's by becoming Christ's and realized himself to be the temple of God's spirit through his strong sense of Christ's abiding presence in his soul. Jesus Christ became all to him, because for him the Incarnation was more than a notion; it was a great, palpable, throbbing reality, stamping itself upon his mind, searing into his heart, never absent from him after once it had seized and conquered him in that supreme moment of his life when the terrible splendor of God darkened the blaze of the Syrian noon-day and struck him blinded to the ground. The memory of that brief instant could not be effaced, its lesson could never be forgotten. Paul then learned who the Lord was, and all his future had to be set true in the light of the newly-realized fact of God's Infinity. This task he undertook and accomplished.

"There are," writes Newman, "but two luminously self-evident beings, myself and my Creator." These words vividly express the fundamental truth of religion. Saint Paul can be read aright only when we understand that realization of this great axiom was the supreme motive power of his life. In this we possess the key alike to his conduct and to his doctrine, and using it, we find that our study of his words and actions teaches a wonderful lesson on the first principles of that sacred thing, religion.

Creation, human nature, man's destiny, the law of perfection, every fact, and every maxim of the spiritual life, are to be explained in the light of this fundamental dogma: God and I exist. Absolutely speaking, no other fact is essential for the fulfillment of human destiny, no other truth necessary to be known. "God and I alone in the world," said the old mystic, thus expressing the sum of spiritual science and laying down the supreme law of lite. God and I were alone at that first instant when my soul sprang forth from the spontaneously fruitful bosom of Divinity. God and I are ever alone in those secret recesses of my being wherein no creature can enter. Especially shall we be alone at that last moment when the darkness of death is encompassing me. Through all eternity God and I shall dwell as if alone, contemplating each other with endearing eyes, both radiant with love, He effecting and I receiving, He giving and I returning, God sustaining me and I possessing God.

These truths teach us life's meaning. God and Self, the two necessary conditions of eternal felicity, intimate the rule of a perfect existence. To interpret every fact in life we need consider only Him in Whom we live and move and have our being. Beside Him what does man possess upon earth, or desire in eternity? In heaven all activity will be centred upon God, and out of our vision of Him will spring our love for our dear ones, our very knowledge of fragmentary truths. It should not be otherwise upon earth. Here, too, whatever is not directed to God is naught; every act that does not begin with, depend upon, and end in Him is less than nothing; and every creature loved outside of Him is a false god. True, Pantheism is an error - creatures are something essentially distinct from God. But to the man who would be perfect, they must become as nothing. In God and for God we must know, love, act. What God wills we must will. Such is the norm of perfect life.

A lower depth than this we cannot attain even in the soul of Saint Paul. Here we touch upon the principle which is the first and last of his spiritual doctrine. A study of him convinces us that his sanctity sprang from his knowing perfectly the rights of God and man, and giving to each his own. Saint Paul's teaching and conduct alike emphasize the necessity of pleasing God by means of a complete and absolute self-surrender, which is possible to man only in regard to God and which alone is capable of satisfying the Creator's claims upon His creatures. Devotion of this sort is the quintessence of religion; it is vital, personal, perfect worship. It is the religion of the heart, the adoration in spirit and truth dear to God, and the one thing so needful that without it not even Almighty Power can perfect a human soul.

To declare this spirit characteristic of Saint Paul of course does not imply it to be his exclusive possession. Some share of it is an indispensable condition of all real religion. It is as widespread, therefore, as religion itself, being the common badge identifying the true children of God's kingdom wherever and under whatever circumstances they may be found. But Saint Paul's grasp of the principle and its consequences is something extraordinary and proper to himself: and his teaching of it is unequivocal and final. No one can read the Epistles without being struck by the writer's strong sense of Divine dominion and human stewardship. No one can meditate upon them and still retain the illusion that there is a substitute for personal devotion and absolute self-surrender. The disciple of Saint Paul learns very quickly that his life is not his own; that to God's free gift he owes all; that he has been bought, redeemed, freed, made alive, sanctified by his Master. Subtract these truths from Saint Paul's teaching, and you substitute nerveless platitudes for the sublimest doctrine human lips have uttered. Retain them, and you have that doctrine in perfection. It is these truths which explain his habitual temper of mind and tone of speech, these which show us why, forgetting the things behind and ever stretching forward to God, he counted all else as loss, and regarded it as filth, prizing creatures only in and for his love of their Maker.

Man is only a creature to be sure, but still his activity differs in kind from that of sunlight and planet and ocean-tide. His highest privilege, the one which characterizes him as man, is individual freedom. By means of this he becomes an independent agent, a centre of activity, and in a sense is liberated from God's control. In giving man free will the Creator, as it were, rules off a certain sphere and makes the individual master thereof, constituting him "God"? of that little world, and releasing him from the sway of every external power, even the Divine. In that domain the individual is supreme. Though unable to escape from God's sight, he can rebel, he can thwart God's wishes, he can frustrate God's plans, he can accomplish what God does not will and check what He does will. Man becomes perfect, therefore, by remaining faithful to the office of delegate, and never trying to assume independence; by contenting himself with simply repeating God's commands, thus restoring to God dominion over the region entrusted to the human will. When man acts in this way, then and only then can he say with meaning: God and I alone in the world. There is no acceptable submission short of self-annihilation. The perfect human song must be a unison wherein the creature takes and holds the note struck by the Divine Singer, since intercourse between God and man implies a relation to the All of one who is more than nothing only in virtue of existence communicated by the All.

It is evident then that the bond of perfection must be the unifying principle, love. Thus only can the law be fulfilled. Love which is blind to all except the beloved and which utterly annihilates selfhood is, therefore, the one needful gift, greater than prophecy, tongues, miracles, martyrdom, hope, or faith.

Such is the conclusion deduced by Saint Paul from the great truths of man's divine origin and destiny. He voices his teaching in words of unmistakable import. Further, he gives us a living example of perfect conformity to the principles he proclaims. Clearly, love is the ruling motive of his career. It begins to be so at that critical instant when the sight of the Lord's uncovered glory sends the fierce spoiler cowering to the earth. It ceases to be so only at that last moment when the Roman sword, gleaming in the sunlight of an Italian June, leaves the martyr's headless body prone upon the Ostian Way. Quid me vis facere? is his constant thought. It is the supreme question. The answer to it, in so far as known, forms Paul's single rule of life. Always it is God's to choose and Paul's to obey. The Lord wills; Paul acts - acts with a readiness that makes his deeds seem spontaneous and a cheerfulness that argues the choice to be his own. So, indeed, it is his own choice, for love with its wonderful transforming power has made his will one with the will of God, has fired heart and brain with unquenchable fervor, has mastered intellect and will and instinct, and brought every human power into sweet captivity.

Reducing all duties to the pleasant one of loving seems like laying out a royal road to perfection. But the direction to love is an easy one to follow, just as De Sales' maxim, Ask nothing, refuse nothing, is a simple rule of mortification. Delusion occurs when a thing is seen as through a glass darkly. To fulfill the law by loving is easy only when we have learned to love easily. This will be the case in heaven, where God is seen face to face, where truth is clear as noonday light and goodness is revealed in all its loveliness. But the very significance of life as a time of trial implies that we are now wandering about a world of half-truths, blind to the meaning of God, and constantly mistaking shadows and images for realities. Often our God-given freedom avails only for our own hurt. We lose our life in attempting to save it. And yet naturally we still incline toward trying to save it. To annihilate self on faith is no welcome task. A life-long struggle usually precedes its ultimate accomplishment. Constant repetition of misfortunes due to selfishness barely suffices to convince us that God is all and we are nothing. 'Through these devious ways the teaching of Saint Paul guides us, and if we hear from the midst of his prolonged torments a cry of anguish: "The evil that I will not, that I do! who shall deliver me from this body of death?" we catch also the echo of his pean of victory foretelling the final triumph: "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith."

Readily we perceive that the victory of grace in Saint Paul's soul could not have been won with ease. Only the power of a mighty and extraordinary love subdues and controls natures like his. This is why his affection for Christ really did play the all-important role in his spiritual development. His love for Jesus Christ can be described by no word short of passionate; it was an absorbing devotion, possibly without equal in the history of Christian saints. Asa friend, as a brother, as a spouse, Christ had inflamed his soul with love. For Christ's sake he would gladly become a fool, an outcast, an anathema. In "Christ and Him crucified" is found the sum and substance of Saint Paul's writing as of his preaching, the same yesterday and today and always. For, through Christ, God took complete possession of him, making the fulfillment of the Divine Will the sole desirable good in life; and Christ won Paul's love solely because He was the revelation in human form of the Deity never seen by eye or conceived by thought of man. To Paul Jesus was no mere ideal of humanity, no simple type of human perfection. In Him dwelt the fullness of the Godhead corporally. The mighty tide of love that swept through Paul's soul at the thought of his Beloved, surging high at the very mention of Christ's name, was, then, incomparably greater than any affection one human being could inspire in another; it was a love of transcendent depth and purity; it was unique because its object was Divine, because the Beloved was one with the Infinite Being Whose uncovered face was to transform Paul into His own ineffable image. As far as was possible for man, this saint had realized the significance of the Incarnation and had found in the Word made Flesh a magic influence to raise his own soul out of the depths and set it beyond the reach of temptations to infidelity. It was the vision of Jesus, then, that fixed him fast in that essential and unchangeable relationship which he knew must obtain between God and a perfect man.

Such a lesson does Saint Paul teach us. We have noted already that it possesses a powerful influence over our age. Reasons are quickly discoverable. The very simplicity and directness of Paul's spiritual scheme recommend it strongly to a generation like ours. He never is betrayed into exaggeration of accidentals at the cost of essentials; he insists on no partial views; he does not attempt to substitute temporal for eternal interests. This is the type of religious teacher that is most willingly listened to nowadays. It is not because our contemporaries lack generosity that they take to Saint Paul as a model. No one would ever dream of expecting a compromise from him. Men go to him because they really want the meat and kernel of spiritual truth; because they seek its essence rather than its accompaniments, its soul and not its trappings. Men go to him because if there is a higher and purer spiritual doctrine than that, of Saint Paul it has not yet been revealed.

Further power over our age is gained by Saint Paul in consequence of the perfect fullness and symmetry of his manhood. A people whose spiritual ideal is an integral one will think of a saint's nature as well as of his graces, and will trust a little to their own human instincts in choosing a model of sanctity. What saint then, in a day like ours, will elicit sympathy more quickly than this great Apostle, who, as Chrysostom tells us, "though he was Paul, was also a man"? Men feel instinctively that their loving God perfectly cannot imply their ceasing to be what God made them; and they find in Paul a comforting instance of splendid sanctity built upon a well-developed nature; of a man obedient to God, not as an unreasoning infant might be, but by means of an individual intelligence and a strong will in full play, giving glory in the highest to God our Lord. His ideal encourages creative vigilance and personal initiative; it leaves intact the freedom wherewith we have been made free, and approves of the liberty of the children of God; it bids us respect not the person of men and submit only to the powers ordained of God. Yet - and Paul is the guarantee - our submission need be no less perfect for being united to a sense of the sacredness of individuality, and shaped according to the dictates of personal conscience. Minimizers of either truth or service will find no sanction of their ungenerous spirit in the lite or the teaching of Saint Paul.

Another reason of his charm is that he preaches to every one the possibility of approaching closer to God. Innocent and penitent - they that are afar off and they that are nigh - all hear from him of high privileges reserved for them, gifts of intimate friendship with Jesus Christ, and great graces in prayer accorded even to sinners, "of whom I am the chief." Here is a preacher who brings God nearer to men by awakening within them a desire for, and a belief in, the possibility of that ineffable relationship which the Creator delights to bestow upon the children of men. You are Christ's and Christ is God's, Paul declares to us; His yoke is sweet, His service reasonable, His love broad as heaven. So is the soul taught to keep its gaze fastened upon Jesus, the Author and perfecter of faith, that it may continue steadfast to the end, by hope persevering, and by that love which is the greatest of gifts and the more excellent way finally entering into union with God Himself.

That men are responsive to Saint Paul's doctrine is but another evidence of the human soul's "innate Christianity." It argues the inevitable final triumph of the Church founded to propagate that doctrine, and hindered from spreading chiefly through the failure of some minds to appreciate the true meaning of Catholicism, which to be loved needs only to be seen in its native sublimity. For most religious characters outside the body of the Church, the stone of stumbling is a dire misconception of Catholic teaching upon the principles of vital religion - as if the Church could have any other aim than to lead souls closer and closer to God! But men stare and hesitate when told this truth, and they doubt Newman when he declares that "the Catholic Church allows no image of any sort, material or immaterial; no dogmatic symbol, no rite, no sacrament, no saint, not even the Blessed Virgin herself, to come between the soul and its Creator." Yet the Catholic knows this to be not only a fact, but an absolute necessity.

What if the Church is an external institution? She declares herself to have been established as an instrument for furthering the reign of God in human souls. By her own profession she is the road to a goal, the means to an end. If she insists on the necessity of Sacraments, it is because these are God's ordinary channels for the communication of grace to men. In fact, though an external and visible society, the Church ranks her invisible element, internal religion, as all-essential; interior life is declared to surpass in value and necessity both defined dogmas and prescribed customs. Paul's ideal is hers; oblation of self to God is the perfect worship. Newman does not exaggerate one whit in saying that Catholicism, as understood by its own adherents, as interpreted by officially-approved teachers, like Saint Alphonsus and Saint Ignatius, "interposes no cloud between the creature and the object of his faith and love. . . . It is face to face, 'solus cum solo' in all matters between man and his God. He alone creates; He alone has redeemed; before His awful eyes we go in death; in the vision of Him is our eternal beatitude."

The Church's sympathy with Saint Paul, then, might in itself suffice to save her from the suspicion of formalism. On her altars the Apostle and Doctor of internal religion is venerated with a peculiarly high honor. She points him out for her children to imitate; she turns triumphantly to her accusers and asks: Is not this a man given up heart and soul to interior worship; a propagandist with neither selfishness nor narrowness; a preacher intent on the love of God and the pure Gospel of Christ? Who ever insisted more strongly on the vanity of mere externalism, spoke more fervently on the beauty of the Kingdom of God within the human soul, or taught more explicitly the doctrine of the indwelling Holy Spirit? Who has demonstrated better by word or deed that the saint's ideal is to serve God with a simple, unswerving fidelity incapable of being improved upon were a man and his Maker in very truth alone in the world?

- text taken from The Sacrament of Duty by Father Joseph McSorley, C.S.P.