The first words of Lent, the Invitatory Antiphon for Ash Wednesday, are: “Today if you hear the voice of the Lord, harden not your hearts.” These words come to us every year on the day when Catholics do those peculiar things that others notice, wearing ashes, giving up things, commencing extra prayers and devotions. This message of exhortation, admonition, and grace starts us off by appealing to the conscience which should be at the heart of our way of life.
Virtue of the mind
Since ancient times it has been understood that our character and way of life are founded upon our habits of behavior, which can fall far short of what is required for a good life. So philosophers taught about virtues as corrective habits for tendencies we might otherwise follow. Virtues are good for the virtuous person and they prompt acts good for others as well. The philosophers further understood that moderate habits of behavior do not necessarily mean that a person is wise. Wisdom, acquired over the course of time, is crucial for knowing what are truly important purposes to follow or goals to achieve. So there must be virtues, not only of behavior, but of the mind as well. Reasonable moderation in pursuing material possessions is not the same as the wisdom of knowing the true place of material things in genuine happiness. Wisdom also shows us the difference between ambition for worthy achievement and the vanity that leads merely to symbols of status. Grasping the worth of the noblest of human goods requires virtues of the mind beyond moderate behavior.
The formation of conscience
There is some mystery here as well. What is most truly good for us may not seem to be so. Consider the so-called couch potato in contrast to one inclined to physical exertion. The thought of getting up on a lovely morning, running in the park, sweating through layers of clothing, and returning breathing heavily from strenuous exercise will seem to the couch potato the very opposite of what is good or pleasurable. But to the active person it is a way to feel fit mentally and physically. It is desirable. The forming of a virtuous conscience can similarly involve seeing truth that seems improbable. The person of wise conscience, like the runner, grasps what is not obvious to everyone.
Just as moderate habits do not guarantee wisdom, neither do such habits and natural wisdom guarantee a worthy Christian life. What is involved in being Christlike may not seem at first to be the best thing, may not seem to be the obvious course to take. If we attend to the Gospel readings at Mass throughout the season of Lent, we find many challenging exhortations by Christ: Whoever seeks his life, will lose it; whoever loses his life for the sake of Christ will find it. Forgive others, value suffering, seek a kingdom different from the precious things of this world. Material wealth, even the whole world, profits nothing. Be humble, do not seek to lord it over others. The triumph over death, a great mystery, awaits those who can accommodate such seeming improbabilities.
Grace and judgment
The invitation to Lent is not only an exhortation and an admonition to the conscience at the core of our judgments and our commitments of life. It is also a grace. We require something beyond our own strength. When one’s character and habits are not yet solidly formed, grace is needed to form them in the right way. When one is fixed and established in mind and heart, grace is what can, even then, make change possible—or repentance. If one does not harden the heart when God’s voice is heard, grace does its work. Conscience can become in us a habit of inspired judgments. It depends upon the virtues of the mind to understand the wise truth about what is really good beyond appearances. But it also requires the discernment and critical insight that grace provides and that the revealing voice of God portends.
Finally, there is another bright and powerful reason to hearken to the voice of the Lord in this season. At the end of Lent we find a truly splendid thing, the glory of Easter. Just as one might fail to see the truth about losing and finding life, and about suffering, and about the heavenly kingdom if one does not heed the Lord’s voice, so one may also fail to discern the true splendor of Easter when it comes. The religious poet Francis Thompson declares: “The angels keep their ancient places—turn but a stone and start a wing! ‘Tis ye, ‘tis your estranged faces, that miss the many-splendored thing.”
©Magnificat – March 2004
