The virtues of man are the reflections of the goodness of God. Each of His Divine attributes, as we call them (the various perfections which we attribute to our idea of what is meant by the name "God"), is mirrored in humanity, which has been made after the image of God. The fulness of His Being cannot, indeed, be found adequately confessed in any single human soul, since that would obviously imply that the finite could express the infinite, an evident con tradiction. But the whole creation does reflect, though in an extremely limited and fragmentary way, the Infinite Beauty. His justice we note in one soul, His mercy in another; in others His power, His wisdom, His compassion, His love, His gentleness, etc. And we declare these who thus reproduce some portion of His excellence to be saints, to be God-like, to be the friends of God. But of all the attitudes of God of which we have knowledge, it might seem that His constancy and unchangeableness of Being defied all reproduction in His creatures: for surely the very note of time (in which here all creation stands) is a note of transition. The very idea of human life, even of the holiest and best, means move ment, progress; means, therefore, that the notion of sanctity itself implied incessant change, whereas the whole idea of eternity (where God dwells) supposes neither past nor future, but an unchanging present. How in that which grows, declines, decays, can we find any resemblance to His unchangeableness? We can find it in perseverance, which does feebly indeed, yet truly, mirror that unique perfection of God.
For perseverance is really nothing else than a persistent effort to keep a hold on virtue. That is precisely the very difficulty and labour of it, for it concentrates not simply on the mere performance of good, but on its continual performance. Isolated acts of goodness are not in themselves too high or too great for us: nor would it be discouraging or staggering to flesh and blood to continue the attempts at goodness for a certain period, determined, brief, known. But there is a distinct difficulty in the thought that all these attempts have to be kept up, never allowed for an instant to relax, for a span of years, indefinite, perhaps of long duration. It is the "silent pressure" of time that wears down the strongest heart and the most determined resistance. To hold out against a restless foe who takes advantage of every loophole of attack, who worries and never leaves time for rest or recuperation, who has persistence enough to dog and harry our steps this requires the highest courage of all, the most splendid daring. Just as the unbearableness of pain consists in the accumulated consciousness of it, so the unbearableness of virtue consists of the perseverance in it demanded of us by God. To be good is not difficult, but to be always good is a gift that reflects the unending perfections of the Eternal.
What consolation can I hold out to myself? Faced each morning by the idea that this attempt at goodness must be made every day of my life, faced in every temptation by the certainty that the attack repelled now will be repeated tomorrow, driven to disheartenment by the conviction that life is not a warfare but a siege, what comfort can I find, what basis of hope against the long dreary stretch of existence? First, I must boldly acknowledge that I have no right to suppose any such length of life. Tomorrow may well see the end of it all. I have no guarantee of the number of days through which I must struggle in my fight for my own soul. The rich fool built barns for his hoarded grain, and that very night his soul was required of him. Many a man has set out to build and has awoke to another life, has sown seed which he did not live to reap. It is, therefore, altogether without reason that I promise myself a long struggle for goodness. Then, secondly, I must be content to take the life simply of this day. Let the dead past bury its dead, and let tomorrow take care for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own evil. Let me resolutely fight the battle that presents itself to me, and leave alone the bogey that my own imagination by itself has created. Even were I assured of length of days, let me be content to take each as it comes. I shall fail tomorrow? Perhaps! Anyway, let me make certain that I do not fail today. Today God is with me. Will He not, who inhabiteth eternity, be able to be with me tomorrow also? Steadfastness in love is the most attractive virtue in God or man.
- text taken from Meditations for Layfolk by Father Bede Jarrett, O.P.