The Narrow Path

By Fr. Conor Donnelly

(Proofread)

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Lord and my God, I firmly believe that you are here, that you see me, that you hear me. I adore you with profound reverence. I ask your pardon for my sins and grace to make this time of prayer fruitful. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

We're told in St. Luke that on the way to Jerusalem, someone asked Our Lord: Lord, will those who are saved be few? (Luke 13:23).

Our Lord did not give a direct answer, but He replied, Strive to enter by the narrow gate; for many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able (Luke 13:24-25).

On other occasions, our Lord had said that if any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me (Luke 9:23). And, “Unless the grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24).

Life is a road that ends in God. It's a short road. It's important that when we reach our journey's end, the door be opened and that we may enter.

Gaudium Et Spes of the Second Vatican Council says, We press onwards on our journey towards the consummation of history. … The Lord Himself said: ‘Behold, I'm coming soon, bringing my recompense, to repay each one for what he has done’ (Revelation 22:12).

There are two roads; two attitudes to life.

One is to look for the most comfortable and agreeable way, to pamper the body and avoid sacrifice and penance. The other is to seek the will of God, even though it takes an effort to guard the senses and to keep the body in check.

It is either to live like pilgrims, who, since they are only passing through, have what they strictly need and do not attach much importance to material things, or to be chained down by comfort-seeking, by pleasure, and by material goods, which are seen as ends in themselves and not simply as means.

One of these two pathways leads to heaven, the other to destruction, and those who go that way are many (Matthew 7:13).

We have to ask ourselves frequently, which of these paths am I following? Where is it that I'm heading? Are we pressing on—straight for heaven, in spite of our defects and weaknesses? Are we following the narrow road? Do we practice temperance and mortification constantly, offering up small but nonetheless real sacrifices?

St. Josemaría used to recommend having some little sacrifice in every meal, some small thing that we offer up.

What is really the underlying objective of all that we do? Do we want something in theory and in principle?

To want something in theory and principle does not, however, mean much. We learn more by looking at actual facts. A student bent on becoming a lawyer probably wouldn't enroll in the Faculty of Languages. Were he to enroll in that Faculty, he would be showing by the very fact of his choosing it that the attainment of his professional ambitions will depend on the study of linguistics rather than the law, in spite of what he may say to the contrary.

One writer has said this is because when we want something, we have to choose the requisite means to obtain it. If a soldier were to say that he wished to go to his unit's headquarters, but quite deliberately took the road leading to the enemy lines, he would really be wanting to go where he professedly did not want to go.

And if the reason offered is that he has chosen that road because it's more convenient, then what he actually wants is the road itself. He doesn't care in the least where it leads him.

Many people spend their lives in the pursuit of immediate goals. They don't worry about God, the be-all and end-all of their lives, who should be the reference point for everything else.

To gain that perspective, in The Forge, Point 403, St. Josemaría said: We need to smooth off the rough edges a little more each day—just as if we were working in stone or wood—and get rid of the hindering defects in our own lives with a spirit of penance. … And with small mortifications.

We show a preference for the broad road, the least uncomfortable way through life, even though it has little to offer us. We choose the wide door, which doesn't lead to heaven. Frequently we're overwhelmed by an unruly, intemperate desire for material possessions.

The path Our Lord points out to us is a joyful one. Yet at the same time it's the path of the cross and sacrifice, of temperance and mortification. If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me (Luke 9:23). Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it brings forth much fruit (John 12:24).

We need to practice the virtue of temperance in this life if we want to enter into the next life. The virtue of temperance is one of the cardinal virtues—hinge virtues—by which we control ourselves, our appetites, and our passions. Many other virtues are part of this virtue: purity, modesty, chastity.

We Christians have to live in a spirit of detachment in our attitude to the things we possess and use. We precisely need to control our desire to have things. We shouldn't be unduly concerned about material things. We shouldn't seek to acquire or hold on to things that are superfluous to our needs.

It's a very good practice to go through your house occasionally, your drawers and cabinets, and get rid of things that you haven't used for some time. I know someone who lives by a rule of life that says if I can't think of a reason to use this particular thing in the next five minutes, then probably I won't think of a reason to use it in the next twelve months, so I'd better get rid of it.

Where necessary, a sign of our rectitude of intention will be the way we live mortification in this area. We can't be like those people who, the Second Vatican Council says, seem to be dominated by economics; almost all of their personal and social lives are permeated by a kind of economic mentality.

Their objective is the possession of material goods, thinking that with them they can fulfill their longing for happiness. They have a frenzied urge to obtain them, and forget all too easily that our life has to be a road that leads to God. It's nothing more than that—a road leading to God.

Our Lord warns us, Take heed to yourselves, lest your hearts be weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the cares of this life (Luke 21:34).

Let your loins be girded and your lamps kept burning, and be like men who are waiting for their master to come home from the marriage feast (Luke 12:35-36).

Along the broad road of ease, comfort, and avoidance of mortification, the graces God gives us shrivel and remain fruitless, like the seed that falls among the thorns.

They are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life, and their fruit does not mature (Luke 8:14).

Sobriety, however, makes it easier for us to approach God. St. Peter of Alcantara says, With a pampered and satiated body, the soul is not free to fly high.

We must press on towards God, and our only concern need be that we are on the right road. Are we really on the good road, that of sacrifice and penance, joy and dedication to the service of others? We can ask ourselves, Do we make a serious effort to overcome the desires for ease and comfort that may constantly allure us?

Temperance is a very effective apostolic weapon when dealing with an all too frequently materialistic environment. It's one of the most attractive characteristics of Christian life. Often it's one of the ways that other people see the authenticity of our dedication and of our living of our Christian life.

Wherever we are, we must make the effort to give the good example the practice of this virtue promotes. If you think of the people whom you most admire in life, often the characteristic that you may admire most in them is their characteristic of control, of self-restraint, of temperance. For many people, the good example given by a Christian has been the beginning of their finding God.

A temperate life is a life of mortification and joy. We will often find opportunities to practice mortification in the little things that allow our reason to control our bodies and enable the soul to understand the things related to God.

Interior mortification guides our imagination and memory by keeping away useless or harmful thoughts and memories. It's also practiced in the control of the tongue, by means of which we steer clear of useless and frivolous conversations; gossip, for example.

To follow along the narrow path of temperance, we must also practice mortification of the external senses—sight, hearing, taste. In The Way, Point 196, St. Josemaría says: One has to give the body a little less than its due. Otherwise, it turns traitor.

That can be a very useful little rule of thumb: to give our body a little less than it demands. We allow ourselves a little less than we would like in comfort, in indulging our whims. There are frequent opportunities for mortification in ordinary, everyday life.

He continues, in hard, constant, orderly work, knowing that the spirit of sacrifice is best lived in finishing off the work we have started; in punctuality, filling the day with heroic minutes; in taking care of the things we have or use; in showing our zeal for service by our fulfilling to the last detail the smallest obligations; in the specific points of charity by which we make the path to sanctity attractive for others; at times a smile can be the best sign of a spirit of penance...

The narrow path passes through all the activities of a Christian, from our attitude to home comforts to the way we use the material and implements we work with or the way we relax.

To rest, it's not necessary to spend a lot of money, or devote an inordinate amount of time to playing games to the detriment of our other duties.

A good example of temperance and sobriety can also be shown in the moderation with which we make use of television and other aids to enjoyment or entertainment which technology makes available for us.

The narrow path is safe and attractive. Along it, together with a certain note of sobriety and sacrifice, we ought to also encounter joy. In Friends of God, Point 141, St. Josemaría says, That Cross is no longer a gallows, it is the throne from which Christ reigns.

The cross can be carried in different ways. There's the cross carried furiously or sullenly, in a rage; man writhes and squirms, filled with hate., or at least, with a deep and burning resentment. It's a cross without meaning and without any explanation, useless; such a cross may even separate one from God.

It's the cross of those in this world who seek comfort and material well-being, who will put up with neither suffering nor setbacks, for they have no wish to understand the supernatural meaning of pain. It's a cross that does not redeem, the cross that was carried by one of the thieves on Calvary.

On the road to Calvary, there's also a second cross, carried this time with recognition, perhaps even with some dignity, with an acceptance of the situation simply because there's no alternative to it.

This is the one carried by the other thief, the good thief. Little by little he realizes that close by him is the sovereign figure of Christ, who will radically change the final moments of his life on earth, and for eternity; he will be the one converted into the good thief.

There's a third way of carrying the cross. Our Lord embraces the saving wood and teaches us how we ought to carry our own cross: with love, co-redeeming all souls with him, making reparation at the same time for our own sins.

Our Lord has conferred on human suffering a deep meaning. Being able, as He was, to redeem us in a multitude of ways, He chose to do so through suffering, for greater love than this, no man has, that a man lay down his life for his friends (John 15:13).

Saintly people have discovered that sorrow, suffering, and contradictions cease to be merely negative as soon as the cross is not seen to be on its own, but with Jesus who is passing by and coming to meet us.

St. Josemaría says in The Way of the Cross, My God! May I hate sin, and unite myself to you, taking the Holy Cross into my arms, so that I in my turn may fulfill your most lovable Will...stripped of all earthly attachment, with no other glory but your glory...generously, not keeping anything back, offering myself with you in a perfect holocaust.

Simon of Cyrene got to know Jesus through the Cross. Our Lord would reward him for his help by also giving faith to his two sons, Alexander and Rufus. Soon they would be among the outstanding Christians of the early years.

We instinctively, as well as with reason, feel that Simon of Cyrene would later be a faithful disciple, held in esteem by the first Christian community in Jerusalem.

And it all started with the Cross. I went to those who were not looking for me; I was found by those who sought me not (Isaiah 65:1).

At times, we are told in The Way of the Cross, the Cross appears without our looking for it: it is Christ who is seeking us out. And if by chance, before this unexpected Cross, which, perhaps, is therefore more difficult to understand, your heart were to show repugnance...don't give it consolations. And filled with a noble compassion, when it asks for them, say to it slowly, as one speaking in confidence: ‘Heart: heart on the Cross! Heart on the Cross!’

We can ask ourselves in our prayer today how we have borne our difficulties and sorrows. It's an occasion, too, to examine the question of whether these have brought us closer to Christ, if we are co-redeeming with him, if we're making use of these contradictions to atone for our faults.

It's an opportunity to identify that narrow path that perhaps God has outlined for us, to which He is beckoning us. Along this, we will find peace and joy.

And always, we’ll find the company of Our Lady, and Our Lady will always obtain for us the strength that we need to walk resolutely in the footsteps of her Son along that narrow path.

I thank you, my God, for the good resolutions, affections, and inspirations that you have communicated to me during this meditation. I ask your help to put them into practice. My Immaculate Mother, Saint Joseph, my father and lord, my guardian angel, intercede for me.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

UI