Not born to fade away

We’re into weeks 2 and 3 of Lent, and I progressed with my Irish retreat.  We looked into the question of virtue, and how it plays out in our daily lives.  Frankly, that’s meant quite a lot of thinking and soul searching, because I found that I challenged some of the terms used and the way they were used.  For instance, “freedom,” “virtue”, “joy” and “charity.”  For a while, I felt like I was back at work, listening to one of my policy-soaked colleagues painstakingly explaining the difference between a ship and a boat.  (Yes, there is a clear difference.  I’m still not persuaded that it needed 45 minutes of explanation to clarify it!)

I had thought that freedom meant the ability to act without restraint, to be free of external influence.  But in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, freedom is the power, rooted in reason and will, to act or not, to perform deliberate actions on one’s own responsibility.  During most of the presentation, I was mentally struggling with the difference, because the latter definition emphasizes a freedom to do something; to align with good, to shape the course of one’s life.  All of our actions, and their consequences, are directly attributed to us, our choices and the reasoning we use to make those choices.

Then virtue; I had understood this to mean moral excellence, and therefore something presented, fully formed, to which we should aspire.  Again, the Catechism offers a different view, describing a virtue as a habitual and firm disposition to do good.  It’s not an unattainable, polished external standard, but a learnable ability that we can strengthen through practice and repeated use.  

So these two things are definitely intertwined, and they are possible for us, frail and fallible beings, to develop.  As we commit to doing good, we choose to do the good thing, and our mind inclines more to doing the good thing.  So we develop virtue, and we become free to be virtuous.  Wow.  That lovely, simple sentence was a massive eye opener for me, and the result of a lot of thinking and praying.  It’s not, obviously, quite that easy to implement, but with repeated practice and effort, we find it possible to accomplish this.  And we will want to bring others along with us, because virtue brings joy, and we always want to share joy.  Yes, very Pollyanna of me.

The practical aspect of developing virtue comes into play when we examine our regular activities and realize that there are things that are incompatible with our growth and development.  What do we do then?  Well, on an individual level, we should choose materials that help us continue to do good.  We should also work to encourage others to avoid those things that are not uplifting.  Does that mean that we should practice censorship?  No.  It means that we should work to educate each other to seek out the best and to push for improvement.  If there is something that doesn’t bring out the best in us, we should work to change so that we’re continuing to try to do good.  

On that note, I’d like to share this.  One of my favourite childhood authors is apparently a controversial figure as their books seemingly portray racism, sexism and outdated ideals.  That last is unsurprising, given that they were writing in the first half of the 20th century, with a peak in the 1940s and 1950s, so many of the ideals were Edwardian and unreal for the majority of their reading audience (not many people had live in servants, after all).  The racist ideas I saw, as any foreign character was portrayed as weak, servile, simple minded, and awed by the English (foreign included Scottish, Welsh and Irish characters, as well as European, not only people of colour.). The sexism, too, was present, as there were clear and different roles for boys and girls (in fact, girls were sometimes told that they weren’t allowed to do “boys’ things.”). However, their stories remain engaging and popular, so the less desirable elements are in a time and place where they can be discussed.  Not censored.  We acknowledge the discomfort so we don’t backslide to repeat those behaviours.  

Our virtue then, builds on our flawed past, as we align our will to good, so that our actions continue to choose good.  It may mean that we change our thinking as we learn that we were in error — like looking down on other people.  Once we become aware of our failings, we make amends and work to not repeat the mistake and consciously choose to do the right thing, no matter how difficult it is.  Unsurprisingly, the more that we choose to do the right thing, the easier and more intuitive it becomes, so that our nature then is more attuned to the good.

Whew!   That’s all we have to do!  I don’t think that I need to say that as obvious as that seems, it’s certainly not easy.  So there is a lot still to do to develop in virtue and freedom... good thing that there’s always an opportunity to try harder!