I say to you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: because every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.There are four ways in which a man is sinfully prideful:
1. By thinking he possesses some good from his own ingenuity and powers alone.
2. By thinking that he possesses some good due to his own merits, rather than possessing some good by the graciousness of God alone.
3. By boasting of a good he does not possess.
4. By desiring to be thought the only persons that possess the good qualities of which he prides himself.
The pride of the Pharisee in today’s Gospel consisted in two things: boasting of a good he did not possess, and attributing to himself alone the qualities of which he boasted. These qualities for which the Pharisee boasts is the practice of religion, or better, the purity therein.
There’s no doubt that the practice of religion is noblest and most necessary of human acts. Religion consists in knowledge of God and a life corresponding to the will of God. It is not a matter of feelings or emotions or intuitions. It is something concrete. Religion is a matter of the will and of real action, and it consists in following out the principles that God has laid down. Mere knowledge of God’s principles does not constitute religion. Even the Devil knows God’s precepts.
Rather, religion consists in the service of God—knowing the will of God and doing it. Just because I know the rules of football certainly doesn’t make me a good choice to quarterback an NFL team. Just because a young man has a natural aptitude for baseball, doesn’t mean he instantly becomes a great one. He needs to hone those aptitudes by practice, and physical and mental conditioning. The same is true for religion. God gives all men the necessary aptitude by freely giving all the graces necessary. However, it requires our effort to cooperate with grace to achieve perfection. Unlike aptitude for sports, however, God keeps generously giving more. Every step of the way God increases the graces. The object of religion is perfection. No one can be the perfect baseball player or football player. Excellence, not perfection, is the goal of those endeavors. However, perfection is indeed the goal of religion, and it is impossible for man, by his own powers, to attain perfection. Thus we must rely entirely on grace not only to get us started, but to sustain every effort we make in the practice of religion.
The Pharisee’s pride did not consist in practicing religion, or endeavoring to attain perfection. We can be reasonably assured that the Pharisee was, indeed, not an extortioner or an adulterer or unjust in all the obvious ways. He probably didn’t extort his neighbors by all the methods common in his time, such as was the practice of the tax collectors. He probably didn’t indulge in illicit and sinful pleasures of the flesh, and he probably rendered what was due to his neighbors. As a Pharisee, he was part of a class of Hebrew people who lived his life in strictest accordance with all the precepts of both the written and oral laws of his religion. As a Pharisee, the rest of the people, the publicans, would have looked up to him as a paradigm of religious purity. The Pharisees taught both by word and example.
But his pride is the particular danger of those who are called by God to teach religion by both word and example. There is a great temptation for these people to believe they have already reached perfection, or at least a relative perfection. The simple fact of the matter is that man in this world will not achieve either perfect happiness or perfect righteousness. All men no matter how practiced in religion they may be must still struggle against vice and a wounded human nature. The Pharisee boasted of a good, that is perfection, he did not possess. He was blinded to how he was unjust to others. All of these things are evident in the way the Pharisee treats the publican.
Remember that it was the special charge of the Pharisees to teach, by word and example, the publicans. We have as our supreme example of a teacher Our Blessed Lord, Who is characterized by compassion for those whom He teaches. The Pharisee had no compassion for the publican. He looked upon the publican with disdain. Thus he was unjust. By pointing out the faults of his neighbor, he injured the publican’s character, and by judging only by appearances, the Pharisee demonstrated that materialism, which is the root of sensuality.
The Pharisee isn’t condemned for speaking a few words of commendation for himself. There are other examples in Sacred Writ of individuals who did so, and even more. For example, Job spoke often of his own righteousness, and indeed it was foolish for Eliphaz to suggest Job suffered because of some hidden fault. Indeed Job was a righteous man, and he knew he was. At every Mass, the priest prays Psalm 25, and repeats the words of the psalmist which seem very similar to what the Pharisee in today’s Gospel says: “
Take not away my soul, O God, with the wicked: nor my life with bloody men. In whose hands are iniquities…”
However, that for which the Pharisee is condemned is for praising himself with the only intention of indulging his own vanity and extolling himself over the publican, the very person for whom a Pharisee is supposed to teach and for which the Pharisee is to have compassion. This Pharisee trusted only in himself and despised his neighbor, thus forsaking his responsibilities and his calling. Because of his station in life, it was particularly grievous and a great scandal.
There is no good in religious practice if it is done for vanity. What good is the Pharisee’s tithing and fasting, if he is unjust, uncompassionate, deceives himself and God, and forsakes his vocation?
It is true that one ought to have a healthy disgust for, and one ought to condemn, irreverent acts before the Blessed Sacrament, and it is perfectly laudable to avoid occasions of sin and those who bring us to sin or scandal. It is another thing entirely to lack compassion for those who commit these acts. Traditional Catholics are often condemned by mainstream Catholics for spiritual pride, an overly critical attitude, and a separatist mentality. These criticisms are often both unjust and misplaced and are born from an inability or unwillingness to distinguish the object of the traditional Catholic critique, which ought to always be ideas and actions that are contrary to our Catholic religion.
However, there is a real danger that the critique, which is good in and of itself, becomes a play thing of man’s vanity and a badge of honor construed to place the traditional Catholic above others. In doing so the traditional Catholic becomes isolated in his own self-righteous seeking for religious purity. His religion becomes a wholly personal affair. These so-called traditional Catholics are vain and petty. They speak with contempt of “novus-ordo-catholics” (which in writing they seldom capitalize), and “new-church” or “nuchurch”, and foster hatred with those who do not agree with them. They are so accustomed to consider these “novus-ordo-catholics” as enemies that they come to see conspirators every where, and soon sink into a world of paranoia and fear.
This is not in the least Catholic. Our Blessed Lord, it is true, lamented the sins and folly man. We read last week how Jesus wept for the city of Jerusalem and her people, the very same people who would call for His execution at the hands of Pontius Pilate. However, despite lamenting their folly and sin, still Our Blessed Lord had nothing but compassion them. He didn’t belittle them. He didn’t hate them, or call them enemies. He didn’t treat them as a cabal of conspirators. And He certainly did not fear them. Our Blessed Lord came to their city, healed their sick, and taught them by word and example. A real traditional Catholic follows the example provided by Jesus Christ.
One such example is when a city of Samaria refused to receive Our Blessed Lord, James and John asked, “
Lord, wilt thou that we command fire to come down from heaven, and consume them?” St. Luke tells us that Jesus, rebuked them with the words “
You know not of what spirit you are. The Son of man came not to destroy souls, but to save” (Lk. 9, 54-56). There is nothing here but compassion. The first priority of every devout Catholic must be the salvation of souls, starting with one’s own, and not the destruction of souls, and certainly not the belittling, ridiculing, or hating of our neighbors, no matter how offensive their acts of irreverence may be.
While remaining true to our practice of religion, we must have compassion and patience with our neighbors, not condemnation, disdain, or paranoia. It is an easy thing to condemn and dismiss others as lost, and to ridicule them for their shortcomings and faults. It is much more difficult to follow the example of Our Blessed Lord and have compassion for them, and guide them by our words and actions. We need always be mindful that we are neither perfect nor yet acceptable for life in heaven, and our primary way of teaching ought to be our sincere and humble struggle to become so.
However, it would be completely unfair to give the impression that traditional Catholics are the only Catholics who indulge in spiritual pride. Spiritual pride is very common, and at times it is very subtle. There are many mainstream Catholics who despise traditional Catholics, and I would venture to guess there are more. There are, every day, new divisions being forged by the folly and pride of man, and the separatists are numerous every where in the Church. Those who make traditional Catholics out to be the only spiritually prideful people in the Church are playing the role of the Pharisee in today’s Gospel. No one is above spiritual pride. It is a danger for all those who take their religion seriously, and it is indifferent to ideology, agenda, or liturgical form. Wherever there is piety, the Devil is also hard at work.
Spiritual pride can also be very subtle, and can be found more often amidst people of like mind.
Spiritual pride often manifests itself in an idea or attitude that raises one’s own way of living his religion above another equally legitimate way. If one were to point out a particular admonition to take away from today’s Epistle and Gospel, it would be this very point.
In today’s Epistle, we read the following words from St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians: “
Now there are diversities of graces, but the same Spirit: and there are diversities of ministries, but the same Lord; and there are diversities of operations, but the same God, who worketh all in all.”
Each of us are given different vocations, natural aptitudes and unique graces, all of which works together, along with all the different vocations, aptitudes and graces granted to our neighbors, to bring about the will of God. Therefore, it is the sin of pride to think one’s vocation, aptitude and unique graces constitute a better way of living our Catholic religion.
This not to say that all vocations, talents and graces are equal. The highest vocation is the priesthood. Some are endowed with extraordinary natural abilities, and still others are given graces that are miraculous and heroic in scope. However, all vocations, all graces, and each talent from each individual is no greater than the will of God that they, all working together, are intended to make manifest. As St. Paul says: “
All these things one the same Spirit worketh, dividing to every one according as He will.” Those endowed with a calling to the highest vocation, those endowed with extraordinary talents, those given graces to perform miracles are nothing in isolation from all the other unique gifts that the Holy Ghost works among our fellows in religion.
A concrete example will help make clear just how subtle and even how acceptable spiritual pride can be.
Universally condemned throughout the modern Church, amongst those who attend both the Ordinary and Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite is the proverbial little old lady who prays her beads at Mass. Apparently there is now nothing worse than praying the rosary while assisting at Mass. It has been judged anathema.
This is such a pity because this condemnation is utterly without merit.
Modern people today are so worried about active participation, that they would have us become mindless automatons at Mass, replete with set blocking and rigid verbal prayer. Even at the Traditional Latin Mass, some insist that the only proper way to assist at Mass is to read every word from the hand missal that the priest recites at the altar. However, in this attitude is a fundamental misunderstanding of how we are to assist and participate in the sacrifice of the Mass.
Widespread literacy and the proliferation of hand missals are good, but at the same time, it must be admitted, hand missals are a rather new liturgical innovation. The wide spread use of hand missals dates back only to the late 19th century. Prior to the use of hand missals, the laity relied on being educated as to how they could unit their own prayers to the prayers of the priest at the altar. Their education, it would seem, was more thorough.
When assisting at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass the first and primary concern we should have is to unite our supplications with those of the priest. This is done by having a thorough knowledge of the Mass and each of its parts, but most importantly, to accomplish in the heart what is accomplished by the Mass, we must know the fundamental purpose of the Mass: to honor God, give thanks, entreat favor, and make propitiation. It is not, however, necessary, nor is it always most beneficial, to use the same prayers as he does. Merely reading the words of the prayers from their missals in a formal manner, all the while trying desperately to read the words at the same time the priest recites them in Latin, is hardly a fruitful way to assist at Mass. In fact it can be rather frustrating for everyone concerned.
Whether one uses the hand missal or not, the best method of hearing the Mass is to meditate on Our Blessed Lord’s Passion, because in the Holy Mass the sacrifice of the cross is re-enacted, and it was instituted as a commemoration of the death of the Redeemer. Aside from three particular parts of the Mass wherein our attention should be especially drawn toward the altar (the Gospel, the
Sanctus, and the consecration) engaging in mental prayer, particularly meditating on the Passion, is laudable and ought to be encouraged.
Thus the five sorrowful mysteries of the Rosary are a very suitable devotion for Mass, because in them Our Blessed Lord’s Passion is set before us. Many are under the erroneous impression that in order to worthily assist at the Mass one must slavishly follow along in their missals. Slavishly following along in the missal, reciting them to one’s self hurriedly and without thought, is not at all meritorious. It may look as though those who are feverishly flipping the pages of their missals, or responding from rote in a language they do not know, are fully and actively participating in the Mass. In reality they are far surpassed by the proverbial little old lady who by praying the five sorrowful mysteries on her beads has sweetly joined her supplications to the sacrifice at the altar, with the smile and gratitude of our Heavenly Mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary. To look askew upon such a legitimate way of hearing the Mass comes from ignorance and spiritual pride, and it has harmed souls by drawing people away from this laudable practice.
There are a plethora of devotions that help direct our prayers toward the altar and toward God at Mass, just as there are a plethora of devotions that can fill our days. While some practices are highly recommended because of their efficacious nature, such as the Rosary, the morning offering and frequent examinations of conscience, everyone’s prayer life will differ according to their own unique needs, vocation, station in life, and promptings of the Holy Ghost. How one ultimately forms his prayer life is a deeply personal affair that takes shape according to the prompting of the Holy Ghost and the guidance provided by confessors and spiritual directors. One should never consider their own Franciscan spirituality as superior to the Carmelite or Dominican way adopted by a neighbor. To do so is spiritual pride, and can harm souls by drawing them away from a more suitable prayer life.
Of all forms of pride, spiritual pride is the most dangerous and the ugliest. It takes the noblest aspect of man, religion, and twists it into something destructive of both the self and the neighbor, and a mockery of God. Wherever religion is practiced earnestly, we can be sure that the Devil will be hard at work, attempting to use man’s pride to lay waist true and right religion. Therefore, the traditional Catholic, especially, must brace himself for the battle. The traditional Catholic needs to heed the advise of St. Mary Magdalen de’Pazzi:
Prayer ought to be humble, fervent, resigned, persevering and accompanied with great reverence. One should consider that he stands in the presence of a God, and speaks with a Lord before whom the angels tremble from awe and fear.
Vanity vanishes in the blinding light of God’s splendor. Therefore, let us fervently pray for an increase in faith, that we may fully appreciate Who it is that comes to visit us in this Eucharist. With a deep faith, we are given to ever-greater reverence, resignation and humility. The best way to foster a true humility, the best antidote against spiritual pride, is to delve ever deeper into prayer. St. Teresa of Avila wrote:
In my opinion, we shall never acquire true humility unless we raise our eyes to behold God. Looking upon His greatness, the soul sees better her own littleness; beholding His purity, she is the more aware of her own uncleanness; considering His patience, she feels how far she is from being patient; in fine, turning her glance upon the divine perfections, she discovers in herself so many imperfections that she would gladly close her eyes to them.
Vigilance is required. The traditional Catholic must have no confidence in himself. He can not trust the self. He must be resigned, careful and considerate. Nothing that comes from the traditional Catholics faculties is to be trusted at all. The traditional Catholic must put all his trust in God, and must come to depend on God entirely. The traditional Catholic must be engaged in fervent prayer. He must take as his mother the Blessed Virgin Mary, asking for her prayers and beseeching her to wrap him in her blue mantle. The traditional Catholic must apply himself to the duties of his station in life, and concern himself with diligence to the things God has entrusted to him. Above all, the traditional Catholic must consider all his words and actions, especially those words and actions that he might direct toward his neighbor, as being done in the sight and under the judgment of God. Without this distrust of self, and complete trust in God, prayer, and conformity to the will of God, the traditional Catholic will make a mockery of the great icon entrusted to his safe keeping, and will expose it to the ridicule of the degenerate and those who hate the true religion.
There’s a maxim of Thomas á Kempis that sets everything into proper perspective in regards to spiritual pride, but only those who pray often and are accustomed to a fear of the Lord understand its full meaning:
“
One is as much as he is in the sight of God, and no more.”