Sanctity in Marriage: It's the Same Difference
by Clarence and Kathleen Enzler
Isn't it true that sanctity in marriage is the same difference as sanctity in any other vocation? Surely, sanctity is a difference — the difference between Abel and Cain, between John the Apostle and Judas, between the Blessed Mother and Jezebel — the only difference that really matters — the difference, in short, between supernatural life and supernatural death.
And, surely, sanctity is the same. There is not one sanctity for the religious, another for the secular priest, another for the unmarried laity, and a fourth just-get-under-the-wire kind for the married. Sanctity, like gold, is where you find it; and God wants it to be found in everyone. "This is the will of God, your sanctification." Sanctity is the same love of God, the same supernatural life, the same union of the human will with the Divine Will in whatever "saint," canonized or unknown, in heaven or on earth. It differs in degree, not in kind. So, sanctity in marriage — The Same Difference.
Sanctity is a putting on and a putting off; we put on Christ, we put off self. Particularly through the Mass, the Sacraments and prayer the Christ-life grows in our souls. But Christ can grow in us only if we make room. We make room by scraping off the barnacles and emptying out the debris of self.
Therefore, for married people seriously seeking sanctity — seriously seeking perfection — poverty, chastity and obedience serve the same basic purpose as they do for the religious, with marked differences of course in their specific application.
Conjugal poverty scrapes off the barnacles of things.
Chastity scrapes off the barnacles of the flesh.
Obedience scrapes off the toughest barnacles of all — self-will.
We are speaking of these virtues, of course, not merely in relation to what is commanded — what we are obligated to do to avoid sin; we are speaking of them as counsels to follow in our chosen vocation if we have a "mind to be perfect." Perfection consists in surrendering to the will of God according to our state in life, plus observing at least the spirit of poverty, chastity and obedience.
The Virtue of Conjugal Poverty
A family living in frugal comfort, according to its position in society, with all the needs of life in keeping with its position, with reasonable reserves for the future, but without conspicuous luxuries is poor.
Conjugal poverty, therefore, is not destitution; it is not rags or slovenliness; it is not eccentricity or miserliness; it is not Bohemian.
Christian poverty is not the lack of necessities, but the lack of superfluities. It is not abnormal living but normal living.
Poverty itself, however, is not a virtue; it is an economic condition. The virtue is the spirit of poverty.
St. Augustine wrote: "A man may have wealth in plenty; if he remains without pride in it, he is poor. A man may have nothing and yet be full of pride and cravings; God counts him among the rich and reprobate."
Not money, therefore, but the love of it, violates the virtue of poverty. Indeed, God does not call, or will, everyone to be poor; He does urge everyone to be poor in spirit.
For the married, poverty in spirit consists in using things rightly, gratefully, using them to serve God, using them to help the family members reach the goals God has laid down for family living. It is right and, more than right, a duty for parents to seek adequate diets for the family and an environment of essential spirituality, cleanliness, culture, shelter, and the like. And in most cases, parents with growing children are on a financial treadmill, so that they have to run at top speed just to stay in the same place.
God does more than call us to poverty of spirit. He gives us a Model to follow. No matter what our economic condition may be, Christ shows us the path of poverty of spirit.
Are we destitute? He was even more so. He entered the world to be wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid for His first baby-sleep in a manger meant for an ox. He died on an open hill-top, naked, spread-eagled on a death bed reserved for criminals and traitors. If we are destitute, we can practice poverty of spirit by not being ashamed to accept the charity we need; and by realizing that the good God, if we love Him, will let us be destitute not one moment longer than is good for us — no, than is best for us and the working of the Divine Will. Our destitution, as St. Vincent de Paul said, may be another soul's salvation.
Are we rich? All creation was His. Even on the cross, He could promise Dismas Paradise. If we are rich, we practice poverty of spirit by the generosity with which we use our wealth. We give alms. We fight against pride in our possessions. We do not grieve unduly when we lose some of our goods. We do not seek greedily (mark the word) to enhance our riches. We imitate our Model, as we know "how hard it is for those who trust in riches to enter God's kingdom."
Are we neither rich nor destitute, being now a little above actual poverty and again espoused to her? So, too, was Christ. When He had nowhere to lay His head and when He had to flee for His life, He united His will to that of His Father. And when He feasted with Matthew and Simon and joined in celebration and good times at Cana and Bethany, this, too, was in union with His Father's Will. And so it is with us. When we are poor, we offer God our deprivations; when we rise above poverty, we offer some of our possessions.
The spirit of poverty, then, consists of a willingness to give and to give up. We are willing to give up not only material goods, but social, intellectual, and even spiritual goods according to God's will. And in His goodness and love God has seen to it that everyone has something to give up. We are entertaining and the service goes amiss, so that we are embarrassed; we are driving on the highway and our car breaks down, so that we are inconvenienced; we are clumsy or we are inadvertently guilty of offending against good taste, so that we lose face; all these are material for exercising poverty of spirit.
And we all have something to give. Just as St. Peter said to the blind beggar, "Gold or silver I have none, but what I have I give thee," and in Christ's Name he gave the beggar back his sight — so we can share what we have. Lacking material goods, we still have our prayers, our sweetness of disposition, our kindness, our sympathy. And above all, let us share these in the family circle, in the home itself.
The family provides countless opportunities for practicing community of goods, for sharing, for poverty of spirit. It's our house; not my house. They are our children, not my children. In almost every family there are times when parents give up a new suit, coat, dress or a vacation, so that Billy can have his teeth fixed or Sarah can get new glasses. Poverty of spirit is a reasonable sharing of books, clothing, living quarters. It may be accepting the jostling of a bargain sale, or buying groceries in quantity and lugging packages through traffic. It may be carrying lunch to work or joining a car pool; or turning down a job that would provide luxuries, but take us away too much from the family circle. It's being vigilant lest the pursuit of gain become a fetish; and, equally, being watchful lest the pursuit of actual poverty, begun with high motives, become an end in itself culminating in a prideful miserliness.
It's living normally, reasonably, according to our position in society, avoiding extremes, foregoing or discarding useless possessions. It's not envying the neighbor his new car or her new kitchen. It's not bothering to keep up with the Joneses, because we're too intent on keeping in step with Christ.
Thus the virtue of conjugal poverty, viewed as a counsel, is more perfect and demanding than the poverty of spirit necessary to avoid sin. The rich man sinned by disregarding the needs of Lazarus, who lay at the gate wishing that he could be fed with the crumbs from the banquet table. The counsel of poverty goes far beyond the obligation to use superfluous wealth to help others who are in need. It is using our goods perfectly, as God desires, not as He commands. It is using our wealth, such as it is, as Christ would, were He living in our circumstances. It is having the mind of Christ in the use and disposition of all that we possess.
This is the counsel of conjugal poverty; and it is vital to sanctity in marriage.
The Virtue of Conjugal Chastity
Chastity is no less vital to sanctity because it scrapes off the barnacles of the flesh.
St. Francis de Sales wrote: "The state of marriage is one which requires more virtue and constancy than any other; it is a perpetual exercise of mortification." And he says again: "Married people have need for two kinds of chastity; the one for absolute abstinence, when they are separated . . . the other for moderation." "It is easier," he says, "to keep ourselves altogether from carnal pleasures than to preserve a moderation in them."
So chastity, the lily of the virtues which makes men almost equal to angels, is particularly needed by the married.
No virtue is more violently and relentlessly attacked in our society. Modern habits of work and living tend to tear the family apart. The husband works in one environment, the wife in another. Sometimes the price of professional or financial success is an almost complete concentration on work. The family suffers. There is no longer time to talk together, to rest together, to be together.
The clubs and societies one belongs to, even parish societies, are very often either exclusively male or exclusively female. More couple movements and activities are needed both within and outside the Church; more Cana and Christian Family Movement activity, for example.
In the religious life, chastity is the renunciation of all sex pleasure and all thought of such pleasure. In marriage, chastity involves exactly the same, except as regards one's lawful partner. Yet how foreign this is to the standards of our society; how at variance to the spirit of many office gatherings, Christmas parties, luncheons and dinners. We need to realize how heavy are the pressures against chastity in our day.
And we need to apply the safeguards. Many of the same protections that the religious uses are available though less readily so, to the married: prayer and the Sacraments, mortification, control of thoughts and reading, a full schedule of work and activity. As regards the sanctity of married love, common prayer of husband and wife is particularly valuable. Someone has said that two can hardly break God's law after rising from their knees in common prayer.
Conjugal chastity, then, requires fidelity of thought as well as of deed. It requires care of the eyes; watchfulness against indiscreet familiarities, jokes, incipient flirtations; and the avoidance of dangerous friendships.
Personal habits affect chastity, too, perhaps more than we know. The husband who drinks to excess and makes himself disgusting to his wife certainly endangers conjugal chastity. But does not the wife, though to a lesser degree, do the same when she neglects to take reasonable care to keep herself attractive? After the babies come, it may be very easy to put the children first and for the mother to center all her love and interest upon them. But it is not right to do so. She was a wife before she became a mother, and she will be a wife, God permitting, after the children have left the family circle. We suggest that to do all that is reasonable to keep oneself attractive is obliquely part of the virtue of conjugal chastity — for both husband and wife.
The counsel of conjugal chastity, obviously, goes far beyond the command. It is the positive expression of the virtue, and it is based on reverence for the wondrous power of procreation that God shares with parents.
Isn't it true that many of us who are married need to learn that this joy of marriage is a worship that we offer God — that our lovemaking is intended to be prayer, as all that we do should be prayer? Isn't it true that this love-making in marriage is intended by God to be a step toward union with Him — a giant step toward heaven?
Chastity is tottering today in no small measure, because so many who are married do not know what marriage is: Marriage the Sacrament; the Sacrament in which the laity share the priesthood of Christ; in which husband and wife bring to each other God's grace, just as the priest brings them God's grace in the other Sacraments.
We need to appreciate that the lawful use of the marriage right is far more than something to be tolerated; it produces not only pleasure, not only children, but grace, too.
Conjugal chastity, then, is ridding ourselves of attachment to sex pleasure, so that we are able to use it rightly for God's sake — to use it moderately so that we are able to give of our time and energies to God's service in and through the family as He wishes — to use it perfectly, as St. Peter used it and would have used it were he in our present-day life and subject to its circumstances.
The Virtue of Conjugal Obedience
Obedience for the married, as for all others, involves submission to general authority: Church and civil authorities and one's employer, all within their proper sphere. In addition, certain other forms of obedience are peculiar to the married. There is the obedience owed to God that flows from the particular obligations of the married state. There is the obedience owed by the children to the parents and by the wife to the husband in matters wherein he has the grace of state. St. Paul in Ephesians 5:21 also reminds us that husbands and wives must "be subject to one another."
All this is necessary obedience, commanded by God under penalty of sin.
The counsel of conjugal obedience, however, is more than the strict observance of duty; more, for example, than the duty to submit that is owed by the partners to each other in respect to their marital rights. The counsel urges generous cooperation with the lawful desires, not simply the demands, of one's partner.
This obedience scrapes off the toughest barnacle of all — self-will. Hence, it prepares one to give in, not only to the commands, but also to the desires of others in the family. It lays the ground work for self-sacrificing love. It helps us see God's will in the events of each day. The myriad acts of self-denial demanded by family life may not be commanded by obedience, but the virtue of obedience makes such self-denial possible, even easy.
Our Lord said: "Whoever has a mind to be great among you, must be your servant, and whoever has a mind to be first among you, must be your slave. So it is that the Son of Man did not come to have service done Him; He came to serve others, and to give His life as a ransom for the lives of many."
Is it not true that the voice of God speaks to us, the married, no less authoritatively in the midnight cry of our baby in pain or discomfort, the hungry plea of our preschooler, the worried questions of our teenagers, the desire of our son to be read to or taken for a walk than it does in the measured tones of the superior commanding the novice? And does not the counsel of obedience direct us to respond with reasonable promptness and diligence?
It is a lovely sight to see "obedient" husbands, wives, and children in their family life. They have their division of labor; but they do not have jurisdictional disputes. Each tries to save the other work, steps, disagreeable tasks. They vie to see which can get up to tend the baby in the middle of the night without disturbing the other.
The husband and wife respect, deeply, each other's opinions. They maintain a united front in discipline. They share authority, without in any way detracting from the husband's position as head of the house.
The wife who is sick does not have to ask her "obedient" husband to see to the dishes. She doesn't have to ask him to take her to dinner, because she needs to get out occasionally. He is two jumps ahead of her.
The husband need not insist that his obedient wife give way to him in matters involving grace of state; even though she may be more intelligent and have better judgment. She emulates the Blessed Mother, who did not hesitate to submit to St. Joseph. And he, in turn, imitates St. Joseph in accepting his responsibilities as head of the family. They are both mindful that it was to Joseph, not the Blessed Mother, that the angel appeared with instructions to "take the child and his mother and flee into Egypt"; and later that it was to Joseph again that the angel appeared bidding him take the Holy Family to Israel.
The counsel of obedience is widely inclusive. But how widely? Does it include, for example, the husband's coming to meals on time, laying aside the newspaper or leaving the TV program when called to dinner? We think it does. Within reasonable limits, the wife's call to dinner would seem to be for the family members, including the husband, the signified will of God. (Incidentally, if daddy is delinquent, he can expect Johnny to be even more so.) Does it include eating what is set before us? Within reasonable limits, yes. (Again, if daddy and mommy don't, can we expect the children to do better?) And obedience is also having meals on time, and having them appetizing.
Of course, these examples may not involve obedience in the strict sense of submission to the commands of a superior. Yet they would seem to some under the counsel — to be forms of voluntary obedience that aid in curbing self-will.
Sometimes we are tempted to think that the counsel of obedience is easier for the religious because of their rule of life. We forget that the married have their rule of life also: the duties of our married state. Does not the counsel of obedience prompt us to do the work God has given us, and to do it with diligence, energy and joy; doing each task of the moment calmly; doing one thing at a time; leaving the success of our endeavors in God's hands; doing all things, so far as we can, with the deliberate consciousness that this is what God wants us to be doing at this particular moment?
Whether we are washing dishes or clothes, mopping a floor, mending a dress, straightening a room, buying groceries, selling merchandise, sitting in a committee meeting, giving orders or taking them — are we not first and foremost doing God's will for us as of that moment?
Our common goal is sanctity, and sanctity is doing God's will according to our state of life. Just as the Father appointed a task for Christ, so He has appointed a task for each of us. We are to bear fruit, to be His witnesses — in this nation, in our community, at this specific period in world history, under these particular circumstances. If we had all the wisdom of all the angels of heaven, we could not choose for ourselves a better time, place and circumstances in which to live, in which to become saints. And we can confidently expect to be saints — if we trust and love and follow the Divine blueprint.
Obedience, and trust also, become easier if we can only bring ourselves to understand that the all-wise, all-powerful, all-good, all-loving God has planned our lives for us, at least permissively, in every smallest detail. Our work is to follow the plan with childlike trust, knowing that God is truly our Father, knowing that the love of Christ for us is infinitely deeper and more tender even than was the love of His own Mother for Him. Every moment, every circumstance of our lives, sin alone excepted, is a means whereby we may enrich the Christ-life in our souls; whereby we may put on Christ; whereby we may become not just other Christs, but in a mystical way more closely identified with Christ so that He lives in us and we in Him.
Our first duty as husbands and wives, therefore, is to be the best husbands and wives we can. Our duty as mothers and fathers is to guide our children with love and patience, to be the best mothers and fathers we can. God wants to be served by families through the family, through the identification with Christ of husband, wife and children.
As Christ again and again pronounced the phrase of obedience "so that the Scriptures might be fulfilled," and then acted accordingly, so we should have ever in mind as the basis for our actions, "Thy will be done" — that God's word for us, His plan for us, might be fulfilled.
Just as the saints sanctified themselves by doing the tasks He gave them — not the tasks they chose for themselves — so it is with us, the married.
St. Francis de Sales wrote: "Charity alone can place us in perfection. But obedience, chastity and poverty are the three principal means to attain it. Obedience consecrates our hearts; chastity, our bodies; and poverty, our means to the love and service of God."
To make us perfect, it is not necessary that these virtues be vowed, as they are in the religious life. Rather, as St. Francis clearly states "provided they be observed . . . they will make us perfect." Even though we are not in the state of perfection as are those in the religious state, we can nonetheless be perfect.
So, it all comes down to love; to love, which in God's goodness is possible for everyone. A little child can love God no less than a king; and if it loves Him more than a King, it serves God better than a king. So, too, we who are married.
Sanctity is a putting on and a putting off; a putting on of Christ, a putting off of self. In all vocations sanctity is — The Same Difference.
This item 6269 digitally provided courtesy of CatholicCulture.org
