"Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I
put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed
Sacrament... There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and
the true way of all your loves on earth, and more than that:
Death. By the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the
surrender of all, and yet by the taste -or foretaste- of which alone can
what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy)
be maintained, or take on that complexion of reality, of eternal
endurance, which every man's heart desires.
The only cure for
sagging or fainting faith is Communion. Though always Itself, perfect
and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate
completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of Faith it must
be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect.
Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals.
Also I can recommend this as an exercise (alas! only too easy to find opportunity for): make your communion in circumstances that affront your taste.
Choose a snuffling or gabbling priest or a proud and vulgar friar; and a
church full of the usual bourgeois crowd, ill-behaved children - from
those who yell to those products of Catholic schools who the moment the
tabernacle is opened sit back and yawn - open necked and dirty youths,
women in trousers and often with hair both unkempt and uncovered. Go to
communion with them (and pray for them). It will be just the same (or
better than that) as a mass said beautifully by a visibly holy man, and
shared by a few devout and decorous people. It could not be worse than
the mess of the feeding of the Five Thousand - after which our Lord
propounded the feeding that was to come."
The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien
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