List of points
It is also true that progress in the history of the Church has led to the disappearance of a certain kind of clericalism which tended to misconstrue everything which lay people did and to regard their activity as double-faced and hypocritical. Thanks to this progress it is easier nowadays to understand that what Opus Dei has lived and proclaimed was purely and simply the divine vocation of the ordinary Christian, with a precise supernatural commitment.
I hope the time will come when the phrase 'the Catholics are penetrating all sectors of society' will go out of circulation because everyone will have realised that it is a clerical expression. In any event, it is quite inapplicable to the apostolate of Opus Dei. The members of the Work have no need to 'penetrate' the temporal sector for the simple reason that they are ordinary citizens, the same as their fellow citizens, and so they are there already.
When God calls someone who works in a factory or a hospital or in parliament to Opus Dei, it means that that person henceforward will be determined to avail himself of the means necessary for sanctifying his job, with the grace of God. In other words he has become aware of the radical demands of the Gospel message, as they apply to the specific vocation he has received.
To deduce that this awareness means leaving normal life is a conclusion that is only valid for people who receive from God a religious vocation, with its contemptus mundi, its disdain for the things of the world. But to try to make this abandonment of the world the quintessence or summit of Christianity would obviously be absurd.
So it's not that Opus Dei puts its members into particular environments. They are, I repeat, already there, and there's no reason why they should leave. Moreover, vocations to Opus Dei, which come through God's grace and through that apostolate of friendship and confidence which I mentioned earlier are to be found in all environments.
Perhaps this very simplicity of the nature and way of working of Opus Dei presents a difficulty for people who are full of complications, and seem incapable of understanding anything genuine and upright.
Naturally there will always be some people who do not understand the essence of Opus Dei, but this should come as no surprise because our Lord gave His disciples a forewarning of these difficulties when He told them: 'No disciple is above his Master' (Matt 10:24). No one can hope to be understood by everyone, although he does have a right to be respected as a person and as a son of God. Unfortunately there are always some fanatics who want to impose their own ideas in a totalitarian way, and these will never grasp the love which the members of Opus Dei have for the personal freedom of others, and then also for their own personal freedom which is always accompanied by personal responsibility.
I remember a very graphic anecdote. In a particular city which will remain anonymous, the corporation was debating a grant of money for an educational activity conducted by members of Opus Dei — which, like all the corporate activities fostered by the Work, was making a definite contribution to the good of the community. Most of the councillors were in favour of the grant. One of them, a socialist, explained his opinion, saying that he knew the activity personally: 'This is an activity', he said, 'which is characterised by the fact that the people who conduct it are good friends of personal freedom: students of all religions and ideologies are welcomed in the residence.' The communist councillors voted against the grant. One of them, saying why he did so, told the socialist: 'I am opposed to it because if that is the way things are, this residence is doing effective propaganda for Catholicism.
Anyone who does not respect the freedom of others or wants to oppose the Church is incapable of appreciating an apostolic activity. But even in such a case I, as a man, am obliged to respect him and to try to lead him to the truth; and as a Christian, I must love him and pray for him.
You have just listened to the solemn reading of the two texts of Holy Scripture which correspond to the Mass of the 21st Sunday after Pentecost. Having heard the Word of God you are already in the atmosphere in which I wish to situate the words I now address to you. They are intended to be supernatural, proclaiming the greatness of God and His mercies towards men. Words to prepare you for the wonder of the Eucharist, which we celebrate today on the campus of the University of Navarra.
Think for a moment about what I have just said. We are celebrating the holy Eucharist, the sacramental Sacrifice of the Body and Blood of our Lord, that Mystery of Faith which links all the mysteries of Christianity. We are celebrating, therefore, the most sacred and transcendent act which man, with the grace of God, can carry out in this life. To communicate with the Body and Blood of our Lord is, in a certain sense, like loosening the bonds of earth and time, in order to be already with God in heaven, where Christ Himself will wipe the tears from our eyes and where there will be no more death, nor mourning, nor cries of distress, because the old world will have passed away (cf Apoc 21:4).
This profound and consoling truth, which theologians call the eschatological significance of the Eucharist could, however, be misunderstood. And indeed it has been, whenever men have tried to present the Christian way of life as something exclusively 'spiritual', proper to pure, extraordinary people, who remain aloof from the contemptible things of this world or at most, tolerate them as something necessarily attached to the spirit, while we live on this earth.
When things are seen in this way, churches become the setting par excellence of the Christian life. And being a Christian means going to church, taking part in sacred ceremonies, being taken up with ecclesiastical matters, in a kind of segregated world, which is considered to be the ante-chamber of heaven, while the ordinary world follows its own separate path. The doctrine of Christianity and the life of grace would, in this case, brush past the turbulent march of human history, without ever really meeting it.
On this October morning, as we prepare to enter upon the memorial of our Lord's Pasch, we flatly reject this deformed vision of Christianity. Reflect for a moment on the setting of our Eucharist, of our act of thanksgiving. We find ourselves in a unique temple. We might say that the nave is the university campus; the altarpiece, the university library. Over there, the machinery for constructing new buildings; above us, the sky of Navarra . . .
Surely this confirms in your minds, in a tangible and unforgettable way, the fact that everyday life is the true setting for your lives as Christians. Your ordinary contact with God takes place where your fellow men, your yearnings, your work and your affections are. There you have your daily encounter with Christ. It is in the midst of the most material things of the earth that we must sanctify ourselves, serving God and all mankind.
I have taught this constantly using words from holy Scripture. The world is not evil, because it has come from God's hands, because it is His creation, because 'Yahweh looked upon it and saw that it was good' (cf Gen 1:7 ff). We ourselves, mankind, make it evil and ugly with our sins and infidelities. Have no doubt: any kind of evasion of the honest realities of daily life is for you, men and women of the world, something opposed to the will of God.
On the contrary, you must understand now, more clearly, that God is calling you to serve Him in and from the ordinary, material and secular activities of human life. He waits for us every day, in the laboratory, in the operating theatre, in the army barracks, in the university chair, in the factory, in the workshop, in the fields, in the home and in all the immense panorama of work. Understand this well: there is something holy, something divine, hidden in the most ordinary situations, and it is up to each one of you to discover it.
I often said to the university students and workers who were with me in the thirties that they had to know how to 'materialise' their spiritual life. I wanted to keep them from the temptation, so common then and now, of living a kind of double life. On one side, an interior life, a life of relation with God; and on the other, a separate and distinct professional, social and family life, full of small earthly realities.
No! We cannot lead a double life. We cannot be like schizophrenics, if we want to be Christians. There is just one life, made of flesh and spirit. And it is this life which has to become, in both soul and body, holy and filled with God. We discover the invisible God in the most visible and material things.
There is no other way. Either we learn to find our Lord in ordinary, everyday life, or else we shall never find Him. That is why I can tell you that our age needs to give back to matter and to the most trivial occurrences and situations their noble and original meaning. It needs to restore them to the service of the Kingdom of God, to spiritualize them, turning them into a means and an occasion for a continuous meeting with Jesus Christ.
This doctrine of holy Scripture, as you know, is to be found in the very nucleus of the spirit of Opus Dei. It leads you to do your work perfectly, to love God and mankind by putting love in the little things of everyday life, and discovering that divine something which is hidden in small details. The lines of a Castilian poet are especially appropriate here: 'Write slowly and with a careful hand, for doing things well is more important than doing them.'
I assure you, my sons and daughters, that when a Christian carries out with love the most insignificant everyday action, that action overflows with the transcendence of God. That is why I have told you repeatedly, and hammered away once and again on the idea that the Christian vocation consists of making heroic verse out of the prose of each day. Heaven and earth seem to merge, my sons and daughters, on the horizon. But where they really meet is in your hearts, when you sanctify your everyday lives.
I have just said, sanctify your everyday lives. And with these words I refer to the whole program of your task as Christians. Stop dreaming. Leave behind false idealism, fantasies, and what I usually call mystical wishful thinking; if only I hadn't married, if only I hadn't this profession, if only I were healthier, if only I were young, if only I were old… Instead turn seriously to the most material and immediate reality, which is where Our Lord is: 'Look at My hands, and My feet,' said the risen Jesus, 'be assured that it is Myself, touch Me and see, a spirit has not flesh and bones, as you see that I have' (Luke 24:29).
Light is shed upon many aspects of the world in which you live, when we start from these truths. Think, for example, of your activity as citizens. A man who knows that the world, and not just the church, is the place where he finds Christ, loves that world. He endeavours to become properly formed, intellectually and professionally. He makes up his own mind with complete freedom about the problems of the environment in which he moves, and then he makes his own decisions. Being the decisions of a Christian, they result from personal reflection, in which he endeavours, in all humility, to grasp the Will of God in both the unimportant and the important events of his life.
I know I have no need to remind you of what I have been repeating for so many years. This doctrine of civic freedom, of understanding, of living together in harmony, forms a very important part of the message of Opus Dei. Must I affirm once again that the men and women who want to serve Jesus Christ in the Work of God, are simply citizens the same as everyone else, who strive to live their Christian vocation to its ultimate consequences with a serious sense of responsibility?
Nothing distinguishes my children from their fellow citizens. On the other hand, apart from the Faith they share, they have nothing in common with the members of religious congregations. I love the religious, and venerate and admire their apostolates, their cloister, their separation from the world, their contemptus mundi, which are other signs of holiness in the Church. But the Lord has not given me a religious vocation, and for me to desire it would be a disorder. No authority on earth can force me to be a religious, just as no authority can force me to marry. I am a secular priest: a priest of Jesus Christ who is passionately in love with the world.
Document printed from https://escriva.org/en/book-subject/conversaciones/13223/ (10/17/2024)