What is honor? The full etymology of the word is debated, but what seems most likely is that it comes from the Latin word honos, which, though translated as “honor,” also points to the word “onus,” which means “weight” or refers to something heavy. Hence, to honor someone is to appreciate the weight, significance, or burden of something he has done. It is to acknowledge that he carried a great burden well, that he withstood a heavy load, that what he did was weighty, significant.
For many, Memorial Day means the beginning of summer. To others, it’s a day off to go shopping. But as I am sure you know, Memorial Day is really a day to honor those who have died in the service of our country, those who carried a great burden so that many of us did not have to.
Our soldiers, police officers, and first responders are deserving of our honor, for they put their lives on the line so that we can live more freely and experience abundance. None of us can fail to appreciate the burdensome weight that some carry so that we can live well, freely, and comfortably. Freedom is not free; it is costly.
War remains controversial (as well it should).But soldiers do not create the politics they are sent to address. They are simply told that there is a danger to be faced, an injustice to be ended; and so they go. Private First Class Arthur Richardson is one of those who went north during the Korean War and did not return. He carried well the great weight of being a solider. He also carried the weight of collective human sinfulness (which is what brings war) and felt its burden keenly; he gave his life.
The love of one’s country (patriotism) is related to the fourth commandment. The Catechism teaches,
It is the duty of citizens to contribute to the good of society in a spirit of truth, justice, solidarity and freedom. The love and service of one’s country follow from the duty of gratitude and belong to the order of charity (CCC # 2239).
The Lord Himself makes it plain: “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).
I recently watched Ken Burns’ documentary film on the Second World War, entitled simply, “The War.” It remarkably depicts the suffering and cost, and the burdens carried, especially by the soldiers. But it also shows the sacrifices made by many back home who scrimped, saved, and went without. Some endured the loss of loved ones. Some were detained in camps.
Each episode of the documentary begins and ends with the same beautiful and haunting anthem and can be heard in the video below. Its basic theme is “America, I gave my best to you.” The full text is as follows:
All we’ve been given by those who came before The dream of a nation where freedom would endure The work and prayers of centuries have brought us to this day What shall be our legacy? What will our children say?
Let them say of me I was one who believed In sharing the blessings I received. Let me know in my heart when my days are through America, America, I gave my best to you.
Each generation from the plains to distant shore With the gifts they were given were determined to leave more. Battles fought together, acts of conscience fought alone: These are the seeds from which America has grown.
For those who think they have nothing to share, Who fear in their hearts there is no hero there. Know each quiet act of dignity is that which fortifies The soul of a nation that will never die.
America, [America] I gave my best to you.
The word “memorial” comes from the Latin memorare, which is an imperative meaning “Remember!” So Memorial Day is “Remember!” Day. To remember something is to allow it to be present in our minds and hearts such that we are grateful, sober, aware, and different.
This is a day to remember that there are men and women who have died so that you and I are able to live with greater security, justice, and peace. May these fallen soldiers rest in peace. We owe them both a debt of gratitude and our prayers.
Here is the song and video from “The War” by Ken Burns.
On the Feast of Corpus Christi, we do well to mediate on the desire of the Lord to feed His people and the shocking indifference many have to this fact. This indifference is not just on the part of those who do not come to Mass; it is also found among those in the pews, many of whom don’t seem to care that so many people no longer attend. We should recognize the passionate concern the Lord has to feed all His people—yes even your wayward spouse or child.
Let’s consider today’s Gospel in three ways.
I. Desire that is Discerned – Jesus has been teaching the crowds all day by the lake. The text says, As the day was drawing to a close, the Twelve approached him and said, “Dismiss the crowd so that they can go to the surrounding villages and farms and find lodging and provisions; for we are in a deserted place here.”
The diagnosis here is that the crowd is hungry. And this is a diagnosis of the human condition in general: we are hungry.
How are we hungry? Let us count the ways. We are a veritable sea of desires. We desire food, drink, life, health, honor, respect, popularity, intimacy, family, security, goodness, beauty, truth, serenity, justice, and so much more. Yes, we have so many desires; we are hungry. And herein lies an insight for evangelization. For Somehow amidst all this hunger, God is calling us. We are like the woman at the well, who came thirsty for the water of this world but was shown by the Lord that she actually desired Him, and that it was only He who could satisfy her.
It is sad that while every advertiser on Madison Avenue knows how to tap into people’s desire and draw forth loyalty, we Christians have so little insight. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light (Lk 16:8).
And thus we are like the Apostles, irritated and clueless that people have needs. In effect we say, “You are needy. Go away,” rather than “You are needy. Wow, have I got an answer for you! You want what is good, true, and beautiful? You want what satisfies? Wow, have I got a meal for you!”
So the diagnosis is clear: the crowd is hungry. Sadly, though, the Apostles in that moment were “out to lunch.” They were out of ideas. This could describe us today as well.
II. Directive for the Disciples – Note that the Lord has a deep desire to feed these people. He said to them, “Give them some food yourselves.” The Apostles, of course, can only protest the impracticality of such a thing. They are staring right in the face of Jesus Christ yet think it impossible to feed this crowd. They see only five loaves and two fishes; they can’t see Jesus. They don’t know Jesus! Do you see their lack of faith? What about yours?
Yes, this is also a picture of many in the Church today, who think that nothing can possibly be done to reverse the cultural decline or bring people back to the Church. They see only our meager five loaves and two fishes and forget that we have Jesus, who is still in the business of working miracles.
Jesus will not allow all their negativity crush His desire. Yes, the Lord insists; He has a deep desire to feed them. All this foolishness about being unable to do so does not impress Him. Jesus says,
“Have them sit down in groups of about fifty.”They did so and made them all sit down. In effect, the Lord says, “Enough of all this negativity! I’m in charge here. Let’s get to work now.”
What is this about “groups of fifty”? The answer is debatable, but I believe it points to what we have come to call the “parish system.” That is, the whole world is divided up into small, manageable units (parishes) in which a pastor and his flock are responsible for ensuring that all people in that territory are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb. The Lord desires to feed every person in every parish. He says to me and my parish, “Give them something to eat yourselves.” In other words, “Draw them to the Eucharistic table! Draw them to me!”
Yes, the Lord has a deep desire to feed us. Consider the following: What loving parents, noticing that their child had stopped eating, would not move Heaven and Earth to find out why and to get them back to eating saving food? Yes, they would go emergency rooms and doctors’ offices until their child began eating again.
Why is this not so with our Eucharistic food? Clearly the Lord deeply wants to feed us. So then why aren’t we as desirous to be sure that others, especially our children and family, are receiving the Lord?
To all this the Lords says, “Give them something to eat.” He is not talking to the person next to you; He is talking to you: “Bring them to me; give them something to eat.”
And it is so easy for us to reply, “But I have so little, just five loaves and two fishes. I’m not eloquent. I haven’t studied the faith enough. I don’t have an answer to everyone’s questions!” Still, the Lord says, “Give me what you have and then have them sit down. Work on the fifty I have assigned to you and your parish.”
III. Determination to Deliver – The text says the following of the disciples: They did so and made them all sit down. Then taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing over them, broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. They all ate and were satisfied. And when the leftover fragments were picked up, they filled twelve wicker baskets.
Note well that the Lord is determined to feed these people; and He insists that His disciples help him to do it. They are expected to gather the faithful and make them sit down in groups of fifty. Then the Lord—the Lord Himself—blesses and multiplies the food. But once again, He has the disciples help. He gives the food to His apostles, but they set it before the crowd.
And this is the Church. Jesus is the Great High Priest of every Liturgy. It is He who takes our meager offerings and then multiples and transubstantiates them. But He works this ministry through His priests, and in an extended sense, through the whole Church. The Lord feeds His people, but He does so through others. It is the role of the Church to take what Jesus sets before us and then see that it is distributed to others in due season.
On the Feast of Corpus Christi, we acknowledge that the Lord feeds us through His Body and Blood, but does so through the ministry of His priests and through His Church. Do we see this as central to our mission? Is the Liturgy really at the heart of our parish life or are liturgies hurried so that we can get to our next activity on time? What is our highest priority? Is it the same priority of Jesus rooted in the deep desire he has to feed his people?
The Gospel today says that they all ate and were satisfied. Does this describe the Liturgy at your parish? Are people fed? Do they experience an abundance at the Lord’s Banquet? Or is Mass merely something to be endured, something more akin to a flu shot, which is hoped to be as quick and painless as possible?
Of course the Liturgy should be satisfying to God’s people. During the Liturgy, people should be instructed in God’s Word and then have that Word cause their hearts to catch fire with joy, inspiration, and, yes, conviction on the need for repentance. The faithful should expect and experience a great transformation on account of the Eucharist. How can someone fruitfully receive the Body of Christ and not experience great change and be satisfied?
Yet, sadly, most people put more faith in Tylenol than they do in the Eucharist. When they take Tylenol, they expect something to happen: the pain to go away or the swelling to go down. Do people expect this of the Eucharist? If not, why not?
On this Feast of Corpus Christi, please understand that the Lord wants to feed you and your loved ones. He wants to do this in order to save you and to satisfy you. Do you care about this? Is this a reality or just a ritual? Why not ask the Lord to engender within you the same desire that He has to feed others, and to make you a magnet to draw people to Him? Who are the “fifty” the Lord has put in your charge? Gather them and have them seated at Mass next Sunday.
All of us have wounds and imperfections. Some of us make do, even living joyfully in spite of them. Others of us brood or withdraw.
An old saying attributed to Abraham Lincoln goes, “Most folks are about as happy as they decide to be.”
An old Stephen Foster classic, “Some Folks,” goes as follows:
Some folks like to sigh, Some folks do, some folks do; Others long to die, But that’s not me nor you.
Chorus:
Long live the merry, merry heart That laughs by night and day Like the Queen of Mirth, No matter what some folks say.
Some folks get gray hairs Some folks do, some folks do; Brooding o’er their cares But that’s not me nor you.
Yes, happiness is an inside job. We tend to think it depends on externals, but usually it doesn’t.
Consider the video below. A young boy is injured but in a way that is only revealed near the end. He appears withdrawn and almost coldly cruel.
Enter a dog, who is also injured. And yet the dog is indomitable, joyful, and engaging despite his injury. He almost seems unaware of it. The dog is persistently joyful, eventually winning the young boy over with his exuberance.
What about us? Are we joyful Christians? Are we indomitable in the face of trials? Or are we bitter, withdrawn, joyless, and cynical?
Just remember that joy has a way of winning souls. Decide to be happy in Christ.
Last week as we finished the Easter Cycle and crowned it with Pentecost. We also finished the lengthy reading of the Acts of the Apostles. There are two parts of the Acts of the Apostles: The Acts of Peter and those of Paul. But to be honest, the book has an unfinished quality to it. Let’s consider that.
First, a quick summary: The second part of Acts is focused on the evangelical mission of St. Paul as he made four journeys into Asia Minor and then into Greece. The final chapters of Acts deal with Paul’s arrest, imprisonment, and appearance before Roman officials (e.g., Felix and Festus, Herod Agrippa in Jerusalem and Caesarea).
Paul appeals his case to Rome and is sent there on an ill-fated journey that ends in shipwreck at Malta). After finally making it to Rome, Paul is imprisoned and awaits trial. The story seems to be building to a climactic conclusion, but then the story just ends! Here is the concluding line of the Acts of the Apostles:
[Paul] remained for two full years in his lodgings. He received all who came to him, and with complete assurance and without hindrance he proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ (Acts 28:30-31).
And that’s it. Acts just ends. But Luke, don’t just leave us hanging! Did Paul ever go on trial? Was he acquitted (as some traditions assert) and then made his way to Spain as he wanted? Or did he lose his appeal and suffer beheading right away? What was the outcome of the trial?
How can we answer this exasperating and unsatisfying end?
The simplest answer is that the Acts of the Apostles is not really about Paul. It’s about the going forth of the Gospel of Jesus Christ to all the nations. Luke chose to recount this going forth of the Gospel by focusing first on Peter and then on Paul.
Once Paul reaches Rome (and though under house arrest is able to freely preach the Gospel there) the story reaches its natural conclusion. While others had preached the Gospel in Rome before, Luke chose to illustrate the going forth of the Word of God through Paul’s activities, and so once Paul arrives there the goal has been accomplished. From the central hub of Rome, the Gospel would now radiate outward, by the grace of God, to every part of the Roman Empire.
But what about Paul’s fate? The answer is that it doesn’t matter. It never was about Paul; it was about the Gospel. Paul himself testified to this when he said, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God’s grace (Acts 20:24).
We are often focused on personalities, and in so doing lose track of what is most important. Frankly, the person we are most focused on is often our own self. Acts never really was about Paul. And your life is not about you; it is about what the Lord is doing for you and through you. We often want things to revolve around us: around what we think and what we want. But truth be told, we are not all that important. We must decrease and the Lord must increase (Jn 3:30).
Some of these notions hit hard in today’s culture that is so focused on bolstering self-esteem. But in the end, our true glory is not our own; it is the glory of God radiating in us. If we decrease, the Lord increases. That does not mean that we are swallowed up and lost in Christ. Rather, it means that we truly become the man or woman God has always made us to be, one who reflects the very glory of God. Perhaps it is best to let Paul himself have the final word:
For we do not preach ourselves but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your slaves for the sake of Jesus. For God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to bring to light the knowledge of the glory of God on the face of (Jesus) Christ (2 Cor 4:5-6).
This video is a depiction of the conclusion of the Acts of the Apostles. The scene begins with Paul speaking to Jewish leaders in Rome. (Note that the epilogue, which shows Luke leaving Rome, is not part of the Acts of the Apostles.)
Some of you have heard the news that a local school board in Charlotte, North Carolina voted to eliminate the naming of valedictorians. The following appeared on FoxNews.com:
Citing what it calls “unhealthy” competition among students, the Wake County school board is the latest in the country to make valedictorians and salutatorians a thing of the past, The News & Observer of Charlotte reports. … [S]chool officials say singling out two people for their grade point averages just encourages students to take easy classes and to not help their classmates study.
It seems unlikely to me that there would be a lot of “competition” for just two slots. I think it’s more likely that 99% of the students would never even think they stood a chance and so would not engage in the competition described. Why work so hard for something that you’re not likely to get?
I graduated at the top of my class in Seminary and received a cash award (not a large one, I promise you) but it wasn’t as if I postured or took easy classes to get it. In fact, it never occurred to me that I would get a prize; I just studied hard because I enjoyed learning the faith.
Thus something tells me that the “explanation” offered by the school board is not the real reason. To quote an old Nat King Cole song, “Your story’s so touching, but it sounds just like a lie.”
Pardon me if I suspect old fashioned envy at work here. There are some who despise the fact that others excel because it makes them look worse by comparison. But such an attitude is classic envy: sorrow or sadness at the excellence of someone else because I take it to lessen my own.
Excellence is a beautiful thing, something to esteem and hold up before all. I would argue that it is yet another sign of the decline of our culture that we can’t seem to “tolerate” the celebration of excellence and achievement. Why is this? One reason is the tyranny of relativism. Another is obsessive, excessive concern for the feelings of others. But a more fundamental answer lies in the cardinal or deadly sin of envy.
What is envy? Most people today use the word as a synonym for jealousy. But traditionally, jealousy is not the same as envy.
When I am jealous of you, I want something that you have and wish to possess it, inordinately so. But the key point is that there is something good about you or something good you possess, which I want to have for myself.
In traditional theology, envy is quite different (cf. Summa Theologica, III IIae 36.1). Envy is sorrow, sadness, or anger at the goodness or excellence of someone else, because I take it to lessen my own. The key difference with envy is that (unlike with jealousy) I do not want to possess the good or excellence you have; rather, I want to destroy it.
Envy is diabolical – St. Augustine called envy the diabolical sin (De catechizandis rudibus 4,8:PL 40,315-316), because it seeks to minimize, end, or destroy what is good. Scripture says, By the envy of the Devil death entered the world (Wis 2:24). Seeing the excellence that Adam and Eve (made in the image of God) possessed, and possibly knowing of plans for the incarnation, the Devil envied Adam and Eve. Their glory lessened his, or so he thought, and he set out to destroy the goodness in them. Yes, envy is very ugly; it is diabolical.
The effect of the Wake County school board’s decision is to further suppress the praise of excellence. Excellence should be praised both for the gift that it is to the whole community as well as for the way it acts to encourage excellence in others! Decisions like this further minimize esteem for excellence and mute the encouragement of it.
Some will argue that academic excellence is but one sort of excellence. Is there not artistic excellence, emotional intelligence, and so forth? Certainly. Then find ways to honor those sorts of excellence as well. I paraded around my high school for three years sporting a “letter jacket” that broadcast my athletic excellence as part of the track and field team. The band issued “letter sweaters” to their best students.
Excellence is a blessing. I’m sorry if this implies that some are less excellent, but life is like that. Some people excel, some are also-rans, and some are even poor at certain things. (I never made the cut to become part of the math club but somehow I survived the blow to my ego.)
Count me among those who see the elimination of honors as another sign of an ailing culture. If we cannot honor excellence and achievement we have tipped our hat to what a great saint and learned man, St. Augustine, called a diabolical sin.
Is it too strong for me to say that Satan must be having a good laugh? When we are embarrassed or alarmed by excellence and even call it “unhealthy,” I can hear Satan gleefully crowing, “My perversion of them is almost complete. They are ashamed of their glory and they glory in their shame.”
In my over 26 years as a priest (even longer serving in some capacity at the Holy Liturgy) I have witnessed more than a few people faint. Some just slump over; others go out with a real bang. Weddings are a big source of fainting spells, but just about any long Mass produces its share of “lights out” experiences. Some years ago, when I was serving as First Assistant Deacon for a Pontifical Solemn High Mass in the Basilica, we predicted prior to the Mass that at least one person would pass out. It’s usually one of the torch bearers because they have to kneel on the marble for so long. Sure enough, right at Communion time, one of them went down, torch and all. It seems that such a Mass wouldn’t be complete if at least one person didn’t pass out!
In the warmer weather fainting spells are more common. Further, the height of wedding season is approaching. It might not be bad to ponder the topic of fainting.
OK, so what’s going on here? Are people overwhelmed by the presence of God and then they just “rest in the Spirit?” Well, that’s a fine and holy thought; perhaps I should just stop the article here! However, there are probably other explanations.
Dehydration – The heat in some churches can cause dehydration. Dehydration lowers blood volume, which causes blood pressure to drop and makes it harder to get the blood to the brain. And then out you go!
Anemia – Some women are borderline anemic, especially at certain times of their monthly cycle. This reduces the number of red blood and thus lowers the ability of the blood to deliver oxygen to the brain. And then out you go!
Stress – In order to maintain appropriate blood pressure, there must be a proper balance between two chemicals: adrenaline and acetylcholine. Adrenaline stimulates the body, including making the heart beat faster and making the blood vessels narrower, thereby increasing blood pressure. Acetylcholine does the opposite. Fainting can happen when something stimulates the vagus nerve and causes too much acetylcholine to be produced at the wrong time. Pain can do this; so can “situational stress” such as seeing blood or just the prolonged stress that often occurs at funerals and weddings. Such things cause too much acetylcholine, which slows the heart, dilates the blood vessels, and decreases blood pressure. Because of this, not enough blood reaches the brain. And then out you go!
Prolonged standing or kneeling – This can also cause the blood to collect in the lower legs. The movement of the blood back from the limbs is assisted by the movement of those limbs. I was always taught never to lock my knees when standing because this slows blood flow and makes blood accumulate in the legs. It is important when standing to bend your knees slightly in order to allow for some movement of the legs by shifting your weight. This improves circulation and keeps blood pressure at a proper level. If you don’t do that, then standing for long periods of time can result in more blood in the legs and less going to the brain. And then out you go!
Low blood sugar – In some cases, this can cause a person to faint. The brain requires blood flow in order to provide oxygen and glucose to its cells. Excessively low blood sugar can cause one to feel drowsy and weak, and in some cases to faint, especially if some of the other factors are present. Hence, if you have been fasting (rare today!) before Communion and also have a tendency to be hypoglycemic … out you go!
There are surely other causes of fainting (some of them very serious (though rare)), but let this list suffice. It would seem that Masses and other church services are overrepresented in the fainting department, due to any combination of the above factors.
It is surely a strange experience to faint. I have done so a number of times in the past, due to an asthmatic cough that I used to get. During an extreme coughing episode, the rhythm of the heart is disturbed, blood pressure drops, and then out you go. When I faint, everything seems to fade to black; the lights just go out. Sometimes I can even feel myself falling but can do little about it. I just hope I fall gracefully! I usually come to a moment or so later but it is a strange experience to say the least. The brain can only go without blood (oxygen) for a few seconds before unconsciousness ensues, and then out you go!
We are wonderfully, fearfully made, to be sure. And yet we are earthen vessels, fragile and in need of delicate balance. We are contingent beings, dependent upon God for every beat of our heart and every function of every cell in our body. Maybe fainting in Church isn’t so bad after all because it helps keep us humble—and that is always a good “posture” before God. Before the immensity of God, it is good to be reminded of our fragility and our dependence upon Him for all things, even the most hidden processes of our body.
Enjoy this video compilation of people fainting (many of them occurring in Church) and consider well that “To be absent from the body is to be present to God” (2 Cor 5:8).
Many of you know that I write the Question and Answer column for Our Sunday Visitor. Given the celebration of Trinity Sunday this past Sunday, I thought I might reproduce here on the blog a question/answer regarding the Trinity. It is a fairly common question; perhaps you have it, too. Remember that my answers in the column are required to be brief.
We read in a recent Sunday Gospel (May 1, 2016) that Jesus says that the Father is greater than He (Jn 14:28). Since we are all taught that each Divine Person of the Blessed Trinity fully possesses the nature of God, equally to be adored and glorified, what did Jesus mean by such a statement?” – Dick Smith, Carrolton, TX.
Theologically, Jesus means that the Father is the eternal source in the Trinity. All three persons of the Trinity are co-eternal, co-equal, and equally divine. But the Father is the Principium Deitatis (the Source in the Deity).
Hence, Jesus proceeds from the Father from all eternity. He is eternally begotten of the Father. In effect, Jesus is saying, “I delight that the Father is the eternal principle or source of my being, even though I have no origin in time.”
Devotionally, Jesus is saying that He always does what pleases His Father. Jesus loves His Father; He’s crazy about Him. He is always talking about Him and pointing to Him. By calling the Father greater, He says (in effect), “I look to my Father for everything. I do what I see Him doing (Jn 5:19) and what I know pleases Him (Jn 5:30). His will and mine are one. What I will to do proceeds from Him. I do what I know accords with His will.”
So although the members of the Trinity are all equal in dignity, there are processions in the Trinity, such that the Father is the source, the Son eternally proceeds from Him (Jn 8:42), and the Holy Spirit eternally proceeds from the Father and the Son as from one principal (Jn 15:26).
St Thomas speaks poetically of the Trinity as follows:
Genitori, Genitoque … Procedenti ab utroque … compar sit laudautio
(To the One Who Begets, and to the Begotton One, and to the One who proceeds from them both, be equal praise.)
The Athanasian Creed says the following regarding these processions:
The Father is made by none, neither created nor begotten.
The Son is of the Father alone, neither made nor created, but begotten.
The Holy Spirit is of the Father and of the Son, not made, nor created, nor begotten, but he proceeds from them.
So although equal, processions do have an order. The Father is “greater” (as source), but is equal in dignity to Son and Holy Spirit.
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There is an old saying that the opposite of love is not hate; it is indifference. Indeed, it’s pretty hard to hate or even to have a strong aversion to something or someone we don’t really care about. But when we do love, we care. And the stronger our love, the more intense our concern, anger, or even hatred for what is wrong.
But does this mean that love is the cause of hatred? Our instinct is to recoil and say, “Of course not!”
As usual, St. Thomas provides help in sorting out some of the details and making proper distinctions. He takes up the question in the Prima Secundae (question 29 and Article 2): “Is Love the Cause of Hatred?”
Love … precedes hatred; and nothing is hated, except through being contrary to a suitable thing which is loved. And hence it is that every hatred is caused by love (Summa Theologica, I IIae 29.2, respondeo).
In other words, St. Thomas is saying that we would not hate that which is wrong, deformed, unjust, or dissonant unless we first loved what it was supposed to be. And thus love precedes hatred. It causes hatred by first instilling the love for what is right and then engendering a detestation of what is wrong.
An important distinction – If the word “hate” is tripping you up, understand that “hate” as used here is not referring to a vengeful wrath that seeks to destroy others. That sort of hate is, of course, forbidden; it flows not from wanting the good, true, and beautiful for others, but from a desire to destroy them. This is diabolical hatred: a hatred that hates, not the sin, but the sinner.
The hate referenced here is more akin to grief, or to the sorrow and anger we feel when someone or something is not as it should be. It is grief and a passion to set things right. This is the sort of hatred that love causes.
St. Thomas adds in his reply to objection 2:
Love and hatred are contraries … [and so] it amounts to the same that one love a certain thing, or that one hate its contrary. Thus love of one thing is the cause of one’s hating its contrary (I IIae 29.2, ad 2).
If we don’t love, we don’t care. But when we love, we care, and we experience indignation when what we care about is deformed, cast aside, or contrary to what it should be. And in this way loves causes hatred.
Love wills the good of the other, for his or her own sake. Love does not will the good of the other in order to win an argument or to be proved right. It wills the good simply for the sake of the other. St. Thomas says that love hates what is contrary to what is suitable and proper. But since no person, human or angelic, is in himself contrary to what is proper, we do not hate the person but rather what is deformed or contrary to what it should be. Therefore, a human (or angelic) person can never be the object of our hatred, per se.
One might object that correlation is not causation, and that is true, but in this case the hatred would not exist at all were the thing not first loved in its ideal form. It is this love of the ideal that causes the hatred of what is deformed. Thus love is the cause of the hatred, not merely correlated to it.
Why is this important for us to grasp? There are many reasons, but of special importance is understanding it in relation to one another.
In modern times, we have tended to reduce love to kindness, warm feelings, affirmation, and approval. But this is a drastic reduction of love. Kindness is an aspect of love, but so is rebuke. Approval and affirmation have their place, but so do forbiddance and insistence on what is right. Love can produce warm feelings but it can also bring about the deepest indignation.
When we love others we want for them what is good, true, just, proper, and beautiful—not what is deformed. And given the fact that we live in a fallen world, governed by a fallen angel, and are ourselves fallen and prone to sin, true love for others will have tensions. But tension is not always bad. No tension, no change. And change is going to be necessary for us to reach the perfection to which we are called.
So true love, properly understood, is capable of great indignation—yes, even of hatred. We ought to hate anything that is deformed or that is less than that to which we are called. Scripture says that if we love the world (a lesser thing) then we are enemies of God—yes, even adulterers! For God is our true love; anything less than loving God above all else is to be hated. Jesus gets even more personal when he says, If anyone comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—such a person cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26). Jesus is insisting on the same truth: that He is to be loved above all. Any lesser love that takes His place is a hateful and harmful thing.
Such strong language! And we in these dainty times wince at it. But vigorous love causes a hatred of deformity and a jealousy for the fullness of what love should be. Much of our problem today is that we do not hate our sins or those of others nearly enough. From this perspective, our modern notion of kind, tolerant “love” is really slothful, weak love that seeks what makes everyone feel good rather than what is best. Feeling good becomes more important that doing good or being good. The ancient motto esse quam videri (to be rather than to seem (to be)) is reversed and it becomes more important to seem to be than it is to actually be.
Thus our modern notion of love is weak at best and a lie at worst. St. Thomas’ teaching that love is the cause of hatred indicates that our lack of hate for sin and other deformities of what is good, true, and beautiful is caused by a lack of love. It is not a display of open-mindedness or tolerance; it is a lack of love.
True love admits of jealousy, indignation, and hatred for what is deformed, deficient, untrue, or obtuse. True love is fiery; it has a passion to set things right and to insist on what is truly good rather than what is merely adequate.
How deep is your love? Is it capable of being the cause of hatred? It ought to be (if properly understood).
Does this sort of talk unnerve you? Let me finish by simply requoting St. Thomas:
Love … precedes hatred; and nothing is hated, except through being contrary to a suitable thing which is loved. And hence it is that every hatred is caused by love.
What is honor? The full etymology of the word is debated, but what seems most likely is that it comes from the Latin word honos, which, though translated as “honor,” also points to the word “onus,” which means “weight” or refers to something heavy. Hence, to honor someone is to appreciate the weight, significance, or burden of something he has done. It is to acknowledge that he carried a great burden well, that he withstood a heavy load, that what he did was weighty, significant.
