Review for Religious

Review for Religious

1943 March

IN OUR spiritual life two sacraments play a most important part: Penance, which cleanses our souls from sin and gives us special graces for selfconquest and the rooting out of irregular affections; and the Holy Eucharist, which unites our cleansed souls to God in charity. Corresponding to these two institutions of Christ are two exercises of our religious life of the highest importance: examination of conscience and meditation. By the first we are helped and prepared for the worthy and efficacious reception of the Sacrament of Penance, as well as for reaping the fruits of past confessions; by the second we are disposed and prepared for union with Christ in the reception of the Blessed Sacrament. The examination of conscience, therefore, may be called our daily Penance; meditation the daily complement to our Eucharist, and even our spiritual Eucharist itself when we cannot receive our Lord bodily.

This parallelism between the life of the Church and our religious life and this perfect adaptation of one to the other is worthy of note and is a comfort and an inspiration. If these two exercises are performed faithfully, our advancement in perfection is assured and our vocation and salvation are secure. On the contrary, the neglect of these exercises is the beginning of our loss of earnestness and of the spirit of our vocation, with all the consequences that are entailed and that follow, slowly sometimes, but inevitably. Father Brosnahan died many years ago. These notes were culled from one of his conferences sent to us by Father Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J., who styles himself. "Father Tim's literary executor."—ED.

One part of the daily examination of conscience adopted and encouraged by most religious founders is the practice of the particular examen. Indeed, fidelity to its use has become a distinctive virtue of a fervent religious; neglect of it, or at least of something similar to it, is almost invariably followed by a loss of spiritual progress and is indicative of faltering interest in the affairs of one's soul and in the spirit of the religious vocation.

The particular examen is preeminently a reasonable and businesslike manner of proceeding to uproot faults and to implant virtues. It is, if you wish, a species of spiritual bookkeeping, and as such has sometimes been lightly spoken of. Yet, if the children of this world, who are wise in their generation, keep their books, why should not the children of light? The businessman who fails to keep his books or fails to balance them at stated intervals is, we are told by men conversant with mercantile affairs, a prospective bankrupt. Such a man, if known, would get credit from no bank.

The practice of the particular examen is indicative of a sincere, painstaking, and businesslike desire of increasing in spiritual riches and of removing spiritual waste from our lives. It is a small thing, yet its practice calls for much virtue. Its practice, therefore, even independently of the results it produces, would normally be a sign of virtue, self-control, and will-power. Usually the reason why we fail to practise it is that we are not quite ready to overcome ourselves. The particular examen deals with one thing at a time, with an individual and distinctive virtue, vice, or fault. The first and main feature of the examen is the choice of this virtue to be practised or fault or vice to be eradicated. Whether virtue or fault, this subject should be concrete, well-defined, with a real personal meaning in our lives. We have to avoid the vague and generic, the occasional and the abstract. Is it desirable, for instance that we should grow in charity? A little study will tell us whether we should aim at practising it first in words or in our manner; or again, if in words, whether our efforts must be general or rather directed towards some in particular with whom we come into frequent contact, and whose views or manners annoy us. And so of any other virtue. One might as well choose Christian perfection as the subject for his particular examen as, say, humility. But to choose to exercise definite humiliating acts or to submit to definite humiliations arising from the criticism of others or from reproof or correction by superiors, is another and a concrete matter. According to many spiritual masters, there is in the soul of each of us one "root defect," that binders perfection and which, if unchecked, disposes to sin. The fault is not necessarily great in itself; but it can have very serious effects, like the defective cog that makes a machine wobble and finally break down. On the negative side, the principal aim of the particular examen should be the eradication of this fault.

How can we detect a fault of this kind? We may know it from our distractions; for example, what is the usual motif, as musicians say, of our thoughts when we are wool-gathering? Or we may know it from our troubles; for example, what kind of discomfort most annoys us, or in what are we most apt to seek consolation or recreation when distressed or fatigued? Or, strange to say, we may know this fault if we know our natural virtues.

Each person has certain natural dispositions that constitute his own personal temperament. Among these traits of character there is generally a dominant natural virtue that can be perfected by grace and be the foundation of sanctity. Thus the saints differ vastly in their characteristic virtues because in them grace did not destroy their individuality but perfected it.

This distinctive natural virtue, besides being the foundation on which one can build his perfection, is also a clue to his faults; and from these faults it must be purified when it is transformed into perfect virtue. If we consider the cardinal virtues and the virtues connected with them, we shall find that the distinguishing mark of one person is natural prudence, of another self-restraint, of another courage, of another justice. But real virtue avoids excess or defect, is balanced and adjusted to other virtues. If a person has only one of these naturally virtuous characteristics, we may rightly say of him, "I fear a man of one virtue"; for truly, besides being very often a bore, he is not to be relied on in a situation of any complexity. He will ride his natural virtue complacently and freely, when it should be bridled by other virtues.

For instance, if your special trait of character is prudence, there is danger of your over-exercising it about some special need of body or soul and of falling habitually into the vice which is called "prudence of the flesh," which is in reality distrust of God's providence over you and a selfish regard for your own temporal well-being. There is danger of your becoming unduly solicitous of your health, your reputation, of what you call your rights. There is danger of your becoming timid, overcautious, distrustful, crafty and politic in your dealing with your equals, your superiors, even with God and your own conscience, by habitually using indirect, underhand and political means of bringing about your own designs.

If your special trait of character is justice, honesty or fair dealing, as you may call it, you are likely to confound truthfulness with undue frankness, to assume to yourself the mission of showing up frauds, whether these be externs or fellow religious. Also, you are likely to act as if you bad a special vocation to go about hunting for an underdog to defend, though as often as not you get the dogs mixed up. You pride yourself on being an honest man; and as a consequence of this you are hard in your dealings with others and harsh in your judgment of them. Your sense of justice has made you so upright that you dispense with prudence, humility, kindness, even with justice itself. You are a knight without fear, perhaps, but not without reproach.

If fortitude is your special trait of character, you are apt to be hard to govern, over-bearing, self-willed, impatient, irascible, rash, and intolerant. In your own judgment, of course, you have a "strong character": yet to others you are simply stubborn, hardheaded, and intractable. If you are a teacher, your will must be law for your unfortunate pupils: your only idea of remedying their defects is to crush them into subjection or to get them expelled. If you are a prefect of discipline, your ideal is not a parent dealing with children, but a policeman dealing with law-breakers; and the young people who are under you are apt to leave the institution with very ugly memories of it.

If your characteristic virtue is temperance, perhaps you have the defects of this virtue. Your self-restraint, gentleness, meekness, may degenerate into weakness or cowardice; and, rather than run the risk of disturbing the serenity of your temper, you will avoid duties that call for strength of character, or even cooperate with what is wrong rather than incur the criticism or displeasure of others.

The foregoing are the defects most likely to be associated with imperfect natural virtues. The elimination of these defects is a necessary condition for perfecting the virtue; and the particular examination of conscience is an approved and effective method of eliminating such defects. Naturally, this mere removal of defects is not the ultimate goal of the examen; it is but a step towards union with and imitation of Christ in the positive practice of the supernatural virtues.