The Devil’s Martyrs (another great name for a band? no? :)


-Tympanum (eardrum) Detail, Notre Dame, Paris, France, West Facade. The West facade of Notre-Dame cathedral is a remarkable Gothic masterpiece of simplicity and harmony. Architect Le Corbusier described the Notre-Dame’s facade as a ‘pure creation of the spirit’. More than 13 million visitors come each year to the parvis to admire the famous honey-toned facade with its stone architecture and sculpture. The three portals of the Facade of Notre-Dame are not identical but all are decorated with a multitude of characters. The larger one is the Portal of the Last Judgment at the center. Portal of the Last Judgment (center) The central portal was built in the 1220s-1230s and was the last of the portals to be completed. It underwent two alterations in the 18th century and complete restoration by Viollet-le-Duc in the mid-19th century. Under the tympanum are two lintels with two friezes. The lower lintel shows the resurrection of the dead and on the upper lintel, Archangel Michael is weighing their souls. The good souls are led to the left (towards Heaven, that is Christ’s right) and the condemned are directed to the right by a devil (to hell).

“To depart from evil is understanding” (Job 28:28).

“Those who follow the devil have to bear his cross, and there are many who become martyrs for the devil, too.” -(pg. 267),  http://www.ignatius.com/Products/CASI-P/catherine-of-siena.aspx


-by Br Michael Mary Weibley, OP

“Sin is something altogether mysterious and awful: a turning away from God and a turning to the changeable good. As broken human persons, we create for ourselves a myriad of excuses for the sins we commit. It seems that our changeable and too easily distracted mind can hardly conceive of the idea of the Supreme Good (God) and still less hold It as the object of its preference over and above all else. In every sin, therefore, there is some element of error, a mistaken judgment.

The very possibility of sin even remains a mystery. We can point to our free will in the face of good and evil, but if God is the Supreme Good, why are we so little attracted? And for those of us who have been graced with even a little bit of the knowledge of the goodness of God, should not that little bit be enough to captivate our hearts and convince us of the absurdity of sin? We outrage the Supreme Good, we offend God, we sin against God – these are terrifying and awful thoughts; but why and how such actions are really possible is beyond our power of explanation.

This painful problem deepens into a darker mystery when viewed in light of the Incarnation and Redemption. How is it that the Word-of-God-made-man should have died upon the cross to destroy sin, and yet that sin should be so little destroyed – that sin should be still so much alive within us: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do” (Rom. 7:19)? This is a profound mystery. Yet as incomprehensible as it is, the fact remains that sin is really an outrage against God and we must strive to convince our minds of the awful reality of that outrage.

For those, however, who cannot see their moral failings within the context of God – those who only see shortcomings within their own little bubble of reality – the concept of an offense before God makes no sense whatsoever. Recognition of sin presupposes a recognition of God. The sad case of those who pursue the nothingness of sin, as if it were their highest good in our broken world, walk their own via crucis. None here on earth can escape suffering and sin – our own or the effects of others – but the pursuit of nothingness brings its own bitterness for the soul, exasperating the problem of sin all the more.

This is all too common in the world today. In everything from rapacious greed, to the exploitation, abuse, and injury of others, the devil has his followers. And even if we are striving to follow God but fall out of weakness, when we sin we are taking steps on the road to being one of the devil’s martyrs, because the very definition of sin is to turn from God: “If I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin which dwells in me” (Rom. 7:20).

These reflections lead us to the inevitable conclusion that we must hold fast to the simple truth that contrition – true sorrow for sin – is supernatural. Through the revelation of God, we attain to the idea of the Supreme Good. Faith teaches us that it profits us nothing to gain the whole world if we lose the Supreme Good. What can heal this sickness is recourse to the Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ, as the source and motivation of contrition. We cannot have contrition if we separate from the Passion the idea of sin which is its cause, and if, in the Person of the suffering Christ, we do not see the God whom sin offends and the Supreme Good from which sin turns us away.

Contrition, therefore, involves a proper knowledge of the goodness of God. The good news is that Goodness itself is always calling us. The very first line of the Catechism assures us of this: “God, infinitely perfect and blessed in Himself, in a plan of sheer goodness freely created man to make him share in His own blessed life. For this reason, at every time and in every place, God draws close to man.” Even when we fall and it seems like the devil is taking us down his dark road, the God of the universe beckons us to Himself. True contrition acknowledges the mistaken judgment made in sin, and with a firmness of will, we can turn back to God who is always drawing us. In the end it matters not so much that we sin; that is a rather typical outcome of our fallen human nature. What matters more is what we do with this new understanding of our sin: Will we depart from evil?”

Love,
Matthew