285. Thirteenth Saturday of Ordinary Time

Meditations no. 269 (unofficial computer-aided translation)

Being on guard against moments of blindness.

The Book of Genesis tells the story of two brothers, Esau and Jacob. Their father Isaac, when on the point of death, poured out his blessing upon Jacob and all his descendants. The smell of my son, he said, is as the smell of a field which the Lord has blessed! May God give you of the dew of heaven, and of the fatness of the earth, and plenty of grain and wine. Let peoples serve you, and nations bow down to you. Be lord over your brothers, and may your mother’s sons bow down to you. Cursed be everyone who curses you, and blessed be everyone who blesses you!

The younger son is set over the older. Esau weeps tears of despair over a wrong that cannot be undone, because his father’s blessing has been snatched from him. Esau’s tears are fruitless, devoid of hope; caused by bitter remorse for a mistake he made in a moment of blindness, that now has no remedy.

These things don’t usually happen all at once. Esau had a history of foolish or unfaithful actions, most of them in little things, but some not so little. But one moment was decisive. On a particular day he came home hungry from the fields, and sold his birthright to Jacob. He sold it to satisfy a moment’s hunger, for the paltry price of a dish of red pottage, a bowl of stew. Of what use is a birthright to me? he had replied contemptuously to Jacob. The only thing that mattered to him at that moment was to eat and stave off his hunger; everything else had lost all meaning for his heart in its blindness.

Are we surprised at Esau’s tears? No, it was natural for him to cry. The moment of blindness had passed, and now he saw things in their true light; he realized what a wretched price he had been paid in exchange for the dignity of his birthright. But it was too late, and all he could do was lament his misfortune; a misfortune he owed to no one but himself, since he had thrown the greatest treasure of his life overboard in a moment of madness.

In case we should ever find ourselves in a similar situation, with the eyes of our soul blinded by selfishness, let us now remember our Father’s words. Don’t forget … that we can make mistakes in life, but that doesn’t mean there is anything wrong with our way, nor with our Love. What it does mean is that we need to be more prudent for the future. No one can reason like this: “Because I can’t manage to fulfil this duty, I won’t fulfil any of my duties.” That would be the reaction of pride; to go over from divinization to becoming diabolical. Corruptio optimi pessima, says the old scholastic adage: the corruption of the best is the worst kind of corruption. Only humility helped by grace can stop that corruption, that sudden switch from the best to the worsts.

Our decision to stay on our path must be irrevocable.

Esau was the elder brother, and the birthright belonged to him by right. He seemed the destined heir to God’s special choice, because it was of Isaac’s line, through the firstborn sons, that the Saviour was to be born. He lost it all in exchange for nothing, at the saddest moment of his life.

People who are dedicated to God’s service may also experience moments of blindness, when the clear light he sends them loses its brilliance in their eyes, and the great ideal which fired their commitment no longer holds its former magic. The divine call and the abundant fruits of fidelity seem empty of meaning, compared with the obsessions of the flesh or the whims of a heart that has grown cold; they desire to live their own lives, or shut themselves up in their own pride. Then is when the temptation of Esau creeps into their souls: the suicidal stupidity of trying to kill their own vocation, and suffer the loss of the greatest treasure God could possibly have given them for something as worthless as a bowl of pottage.

I like to say, our Father wrote, that there are three things that fill us with gladness in this life and that will bring us the eternal happiness of Heaven: a firm, refined, joyful and unquestioning fidelity to the faith, to the vocation that each of us has received, and to purity. The person who gets entangled in the brambles along the way (sensuality, pride, etc. ) does so because he wants to and, if he doesn’t change, he will be miserable all his life because he will have turned his back on Christ’s Love.

As I have already said, we all have our defects. But our defects should never be a reason for us to turn away from God’s Love. Rather should they lead us to cling to that Love, sheltering within his divine goodness, as the warriors of old did by climbing into their suits of armour. Our defence is the cry: Ecce ego, quia vocasti me, here I am, because you have called me. Just because we discover how fragile we are is no reason to run away from God. What we must do is to attack our defects, precisely because we know how God trusts us.

Esau’s lament, which was too late to remedy his own wrong, may yet be a valuable warning for us if we ever have occasion to recall the lesson it contains. St Ambrose explains it as follows: You are the image of God, you are like unto him. Never destroy that image and likeness in exchange for an irrational pleasure you would soon come to loathe. You are “opus Dei”, God’s work.

A firm resolution: faithfulness in little things in order to be faithful for ever.

You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trodden under foot by men. People who are blinded by their selfishness or pride and abandon God’s service would afterwards find it hard to do any kind of work for Christ, because no one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God. St Augustine writes: I have found no better people than those who are advancing in holiness, but neither have I found any worse than those who have abandoned it. So much so that I think the words of the Apocalypse refer precisely to this, where it says, “Let the righteous still do right, and the evildoer still do evil.”

The price they receive in exchange for their vocation and their ideal is a worthless trifle, which soon melts away to nothing in their hands. You will not find happiness outside your way, my children, our Founder taught us. If anyone were to lose their way they would be left with a terrible feeling of remorse and would be utterly miserable. For someone who had abandoned their vocation, even the things that confer relative happiness on other people would be as bitter as gall, as sour as vinegar, and as repellent as aloes. Let’s each say to Jesus now: “Lord, I want to fight and I know that you don’t lose battles. If ever I lose any, it’s because I have turned away from you. Take me by the hand, and don’t trust me, never leave me alone.”

You’ll tell me: “Father, but I’m so happy in my vocation! I do love Jesus Christ! And although I’m made of clay I want to be a saint, with God’s help and the help of his heavenly Mother!” I know, my child, I know. But I’m telling you these things just in case there should ever come a bad moment. Never forget it; learn from other people’s experience.

Holding fast to our Lady’s hand, let us make the resolution now to be faithful always; to be faithful day by day in the little things which go together to make up continual, lifelong faithfulness, that is, perseverance.