231. Seventh Saturday of Ordinary Time

Meditations no. 104 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

Divine filiation: seeing ourselves as small before God.

Baptism is our first encounter with Jesus Christ. Through it we are born to a life of grace. We are given power to become children of God … born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

Our life in the Work is a development of that seed of grace. We are to grow in sanctity until we attain to the fullness of mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ. However, this process of development involves what seems to be a paradox, since in order to reach supernatural maturity, we need to become like little children. The Work is not a set of apostolic tasks for immature people, but rather the serious work of adult Christians, who strive to behave as children before God.

It is easy to see ourselves as very small before God’s immense power. However, we need to be aware not only of how small we are, but also of the fact that we are children of God. Before God, who is eternal, you are a smaller child than, in your sight, a two-year old toddler. And besides being a child, you are a child of God. Don’t forget it. We treat God as a father; and we approach him trustingly, without being daunted by his immense power. In fact it makes us feel proud to know we have a father who is so strong.

Since we are God’s children, we have recourse to him whenever we make mistakes. In him we find only reasons for love and trust. Ours is a path of love. I remember my uneasiness when I entered a monastery cell with a plaque over the door that said: et in timore Dei sit tibi gloriatio (and let your glorying be in the fear of the Lord). The only fear I understand is that of a child who suffers for having disappointed his father. That is the only way we fear our Father God. This is what Jesus teaches us in the parable of the prodigal son. We should feel that we are very much God’s children. Then we will return to him with gratitude, certain of being received by our heavenly Father …

Divine filiation. If we are convinced of this marvellous truth, we will never lose our serenity. We will feel secure. And should we ever go astray, even seriously astray, as a result of one of the skirmishes of our daily struggle (since through frailty we can and in fact do go astray), we will return to him. And so we will always go forward and reach the sanctity to which God is calling us.

Life of spiritual childhood.

And they were bringing children to him, that he might touch them; and the disciples rebuked them. But when Jesus saw it he was indignant, and said to them, Let the children come to me, do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.

Our Father’s life, the history of the Work, constitutes a very specific and practical application of this teaching of Christ. When I survey the path we have covered since 1928, our Founder wrote in one of his Letters, I see myself, my children, as a little child before a very good Father. You don’t give a little child half a dozen things to do all at the same time. You give him one, and then another, and then another, when he has done the one before. Have you seen how a little boy plays with his father? The child has some wooden blocks, of different shapes and colours. And his father tells him: put this one here, and that one there, and that red one over there … and in the end, there’s a castle! Well, my children, that is how I see that God has been leading me, ludens coram eo omni tempore: ludens in orbe terrarum (playing on the face of the earth and my delight is to be with the sons of men); as in a sort of divine game. And at the end of this wonderful game, don’t you see what a beautiful castle has been built? Opus sanctum, bonum, pulchrum, amabile! (a holy, good, beautiful and lovable work), a Work of his own, with all that colour, with all that variety of shape and outline, which is a reflection of God’s goodness.

God asks us to offer him small things. Can a child do anything more than that? Sometimes we want to do big things; we get tired of fighting all the time in the same small things, tired of our little mortifications and of our everyday activity which may seem to be leading nowhere. We may even dream of doing great deeds, and end up forgetting the reality at hand, the true path of our sanctity. We easily forget that we are small children, and that it is God who will do great things, so long as we faithfully persevere in the things we have to do. Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over little, I will set you over much.

The miracle of Opus Dei consists in turning the ordinary prose of every day into heroic verse. Our way is very clear; it is the way of little things. Although we are strong, mature adults, our life is like that of a small child who is taken for a walk in the country - a scene you must have often witnessed. He picks one small flower after another. Since he is a child, he spots the tiny little flowers that the grown-ups don’t notice. He gathers them into a little bouquet which he offers to his mother, who smiles at him lovingly.

What I’m saying is true, my children. Before God our Father, you and I are tiny, helpless children. God asks you for the little hidden flower of your smile, or an act of charity, or a small sacrifice. He asks you to die a little each day, to make life more agreeable for your brother apostles.

Approaching God as boldly as children do.

Be a little child; the great daring is always that of children. Who cries for… the moon? Who is blind to dangers in getting what he wants?

For their part, parents naturally love their children very dearly. They know their children’s needs and preferences. With loving providence they foresee any dangers that might befall their little ones. The father will hold his tiny child by the hand as he takes his first faltering steps. Though the child is still scarcely able to reason, he instinctively feels protected and secure, entrusting himself to his father’s strong arms. Since we are all children, we must distrust our own strength, and constantly call to mind that God is our Father, that he knows everything and can do everything, and that he loves us very much.

Because of the different ways in which things turn out, and because we do not even know ourselves perfectly, we cannot fully know what is for our good. Thus the Book of Wisdom says: “The deliberations of mortals are timid, and unsure are our plans.” And so we have to be directed and protected by God who knows all things and can do all things. We abandon ourselves to his will. We are so small that we don’t even know what to ask for; we simply trust that he will give us everything we need. Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Nevertheless we do need to ask. Parents like their children to ask them for things. They would regard it as a lack of affection if their children didn’t turn to them in their needs. God wants us to see, through the requests we make to him, how much he loves us, and how much we are in need of him. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him! St John Chrysostom comments: In no case is it owing to God that we fail to receive what we ask for. For just as goodness surpasses evil, so does his love surpass that of all fathers.

And we should persevere in our requests. A child knocking at a door, knocks once, twice… many times… and loud and long - shamelessly! And the anger of whoever comes to open is dispelled by the simplicity of the disturbing little creature. So you with God. Even when God does not grant our request, we are just as happy as if he had. For we still perceive the hand of our heavenly Father. St Augustine says: Did you ask and not receive? Trust your Father. If it were for your good he would have given it to you.

A child asks unashamedly, without any hesitation. Since we want to be children, we approach God in a childlike, almost childish, way, telling him, “Without you I’m like a tail without the dog.” Nothing makes sense to us without the light of God’s love. But with it, we can make everything divine, hardly being able to distinguish what is temporal from what is spiritual.

Let us have recourse to our Mother, asking her to help us be like little children before God, just as Jesus was before her, during his infancy in Nazareth.

VOL 1 (105-111) EIGHTH WEEK OF THE YEAR