Sometimes it feels like we are just trying to give the minimum: we avoid evil, we turn up for Mass (more or less on time) and we fulfil our obligations, but we do nothing else. We have fallen into the vice of small-souledness; reaching after things too small and closing ourselves off from God and others. We are called to be generous, to give to God in excess. This begins by turning up early to pray, spending time after Mass in silence, and then going out and choosing to do something to build up our communities and help those in the most need. God is abundantly generous, let's choose to be generous in return.
If you read the thought in this week’s newsletter, you will find a quotation from St Josemaría Escrivá, the founder of Opus Dei. St Josemaría was a believer in ordinary everyday holiness, that anyone can be a saint in their ordinary lives, and he offers up a short meditation;
Meditate on this slowly: I am asked for very little compared to how much I am being given.
Today’s readings are about this: giving to God what God is owed.
In the first reading and the Gospel God is described as the master of a vineyard. In the first, he is a man who put work into the vineyard, but all its vines yielded were sour grapes. In the Gospel, he is the landlord, who has rented out the vineyard to some tenants, who refuse to pay the rent that is owed, going so far as to beat and kill everyone the landlord sends to collect it, even his only Son and heir. In both passages, the vineyard or its tenants fail to deliver what was due; a good crop, or a fair rent, they give in fact a bad crop, and refuse to pay the rent.
The sour grapes, and the wicked tenants, are metaphors for those who do evil despite all the good God has done for them. There is a debt owing, and they refuse to pay, or worse they pay evil for good. As Christians, as the people of God, we recognise all the good things God has done for us. When we do evil, we throw these great gifts back in his face.
But there is another problem, another pitfall we can fall into. Another, albeit different, deficiency. If we focus too much on avoiding evil, just doing the bare minimum, we can forget to do good. This is the vice of smallness of soul. The small-souled person is a vineyard which produces nothing at all. Sure, he produces no sour grapes, but his fields lie empty. There is no goodness in his works, in his quest to avoid doing what is evil and nothing else, he neither loves God nor his neighbour, because he shuts himself off. The small souled man asks what is the minimum I have to do? I have to be present for Mass on Sundays and Holy Days, I have to go to confession once a year, I have to avoid breaking the ten commandments, but I won’t extend myself beyond this.
Smallness of soul manifests itself in many ways, but it has easily observable symptoms in a Christian community. Coming late to Mass, sneaking in during the Gospel or the sermon, and being the first person out the door at the end. Begrudging the singing of hymns or the length of the prayers. Dressing or acting like you’re just stopping off here on the way to the beach rather than like you’re coming to meet the Lord of the Universe who has given you everything. The small souled person’s motto regarding Church, indeed regarding anything that takes up his time, is “well I’m here, what more do you want?”
We are not asked to have little souls, but to be great of soul. We are called to give back to God in excess. St Paul writes in his letter to the Christians in Philippi;
fill your minds with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise.
We cannot repay the Lord what he has done for us simply by avoiding evil. We have to seek him out in what is true, good, and beautiful, and fill our minds with it. We have to chase virtue, living lives that are full of love for God and our neighbour.
This is a journey that never ends. God is infinitely good and has given us more than we could hope to repay. The greatness of soul, the magnanimity, required of us means we have to be constantly asking ourselves what more can I do? How can I do more? How can I give more? Today I want to offer five little steps on the road that lead us from small souled religion to the greatness of soul that is worthy of Christians;
First, come to Mass early. Don’t aim to get in the door at (09:30/11:30) on the dot, you’ll only leave yourselves at the mercy of traffic and find yourself arriving halfway through the opening hymn. Aim for fifteen minutes before the start of Mass, to give yourself time to prepare.
Second, when you arrive, remember who you are here to meet. You can see the other people in this building any time and any place you choose, but you can only meet the Lord face to face here in the tabernacle. So don’t arrive and immediately start a conversation. Arrive, and immediately genuflect, bless yourself with Holy Water. Then kneel down in your place and spend some time in silent prayer, preparing yourself for Mass.
Third, participate actively and fully in the Mass. Listen attentively to the readings and the prayers, and let them speak to you. Sing the hymns and the Mass parts, and when the Lord is present at the altar, adore Him in silence.
Fourth, at the end of Mass, don’t rush off and don’t linger in the Church for a conversation that will distract other people. Instead spend a few moments on your knees again, in silence, and thank the Lord for the gift of the Eucharist, ask him to help you with what you need in the week to come. Leave the Church as a place for silence and prayer, but have do your conversations out in the hall over tea and coffee or in the gardens.
Fifth, find something practical you can do to build up the community, or to help those in need. Whatever it is, resolve to be generous in giving up your time and talents.
Meditate on this slowly: I am asked for very little compared to how much I am being given.
We are called to be great of soul, and God pays back our generosity with his own boundless generosity, as we said in the opening prayer “in the abundance of your kindness [you] surpass the merits and desires of all who entreat you.” God goes beyond what we deserve, beyond what we could hope for even in our wildest dreams. God has given us life. He has freed us from sin by the shedding of His blood. He has glorified us with Christ. Can we not give Him just a little more love, a little more devotion, a little more of our lives?
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