Apologies to all. From time to time I get a bee in my bonnet about a topic, current one is grace, partially due to my spiritual director being a priest in Opus Dei and we discuss this topic.
I have two threads on the go now about grace, and I think a consensus is emerging.
In a while when the dust settles I hope to summarize the conclusions, as there seems to be a certain amount of agreement.
Then I hope to pose another problem, but it is essentially answered here by Vico who quotes my friend Ott.
A certain teaching of faith is that “God gives all innocent unbelievers (infideles negativi) sufficient grace to achieve eternal salvation. (Sent. certa.)” - Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma, p. 241, Ludwig Ott.
Be ye warned!!
Likely someone will disagree with me on the following, but I believe this:
Ste Therese of Lisieux is regarded as a Doctor of the Church. Her utterances are, therefore, worthy of belief. She had some remarkable things to say about this general question. At one time, (particularly around WWI) she was immensely popular with Catholics and brought grace to many. She is less so now, probably because the language of her writings is peculiar and 19th Century-ish. But it’s very serious stuff.
She maintained that all persons in hell are volunteers. She believed in “final penitence” in a very major way. She believed that at or around one’s death, one is presented with his Judgment. All the sins of his life are presented to him in total clarity, and it’s appalling, terribly appalling. Sins are like ripples in water when we throw in a stone; they go out and out and out in ways we do not see or do not want to see.
And yet, she said that even if she committed every sin there was, she would not fear hell because she loved God. How does that make sense when we are so used to thinking of sin and redemption in terms of a balance scale or a ritualistic endeavor?
She believed that we would be so struck by the naked reality of our sins that we would cast ourselves into hell, except that God then offers His mercy and His love. Oddly enough, it will be hard to accept it, because we will have to openly admit reality to Him and to ourselves and accept it that His mercy and love, and not our own doing, is all that will save us. We then choose.
We choose to be affronted by the reality, and even more by His offer of mercy and love. “How dare you show me in this way and then tell me only you can rid me of it!” We will then choose to accept His mercy and love or we will cocoon ourselves up in self-worship of ourselves forever, knowing with absolute clarity what we are choosing.
Our pride will not be the pride of emotion, but the icy pride of Satan who chose self-worship knowing exactly what the choice meant. We choose a lie, knowing it’s a lie, but preferring it.
Some of us, she said, will be accepting, but will think ourselves unworthy to actually be in His presence. (probably the great bulk of us). We would cast ourselves into hell except that we have another choice, which is purgatory. Purgatory will be no picnic. Perhaps there’s fire of some sort and perhaps there isn’t in a physical sense. The exceedingly hard and painful part will be in facing our own reality and working on ourselves to purge ourselves of pride and selfishness, down to the very last trace.
But some will choose hell, knowing full well what it is. Hard to imagine that in a way, but what we do know of human pride, we can sort of imagine it. Ice cold self-choice, with a finality so strong we never wish to break out of it. That exists. In our hearts we know it does. And we know some degree of it is in us.
How do we get away from that? How do we change ourselves here and now? By loving God, she says. But how do we do that? By little things, she says; by what she called her “Little Way”. Small things, largely. Self-denial in small ways with the intent (however poorly felt at times) that we’re doing it out of gratitude to a God that has made our everlasting joy in His presence possible. Little efforts at helping others; things as small as making someone feel better about something we think is ridiculous but don’t say so. Small but huge would be in encouraging the love of God in someone else. We endeavor, by sheer force of will if necessary, to see the face of Jesus even in the most repulsive of people.
Why is any of that effective? Because we die as we lived, by and large. If we don’t “practice” getting out of our own self-worship, we’re less likely to do it when it really counts.
Finally, she compared the soul’s journey to a parable she told about the king and the rabbit. The king is out hunting and spies the rabbit. The king gives chase. The rabbit runs and pulls every evasive rabbit trick there is. But finally the rabbit is cornered. There is no escape. What does the rabbit do?
He leaps into the arms of the king, throwing himself on the king’s mercy. The king has pity and the rabbit is saved.
I like that.