If you see a man who is unterrified in the midst of dangers, untouched by desires, happy in adversity, peaceful amid the storm, who looks down upon men from a higher plane, and views the gods on a footing of equality, will not a feeling of reverence for him steal over you?
Will you not say: "This quality is too great and too lofty to be regarded as resembling this petty body in which it dwells? A Divine power has descended upon that man."
When a soul rises superior to other souls, when it is under control, when it passes through every experience as if it were of small account, when it smiles at our fears and at our prayers, it is stirred by a force from heaven. A thing like this cannot stand upright unless it be propped by the Divine.
Therefore, a greater part of it abides in that place from whence it came down to earth. Just as the rays of the sun do indeed touch the earth, but still abide at the source from which they are sent; even so the great and hallowed soul, which has come down in order that we may have a nearer knowledge of divinity, does indeed associate with us, but still cleaves to its origin; on that source it depends, thither it turns its gaze and strives to go, and it concerns itself with our doings only as a being superior to ourselves.
Will you not say: "This quality is too great and too lofty to be regarded as resembling this petty body in which it dwells? A Divine power has descended upon that man."
When a soul rises superior to other souls, when it is under control, when it passes through every experience as if it were of small account, when it smiles at our fears and at our prayers, it is stirred by a force from heaven. A thing like this cannot stand upright unless it be propped by the Divine.
Therefore, a greater part of it abides in that place from whence it came down to earth. Just as the rays of the sun do indeed touch the earth, but still abide at the source from which they are sent; even so the great and hallowed soul, which has come down in order that we may have a nearer knowledge of divinity, does indeed associate with us, but still cleaves to its origin; on that source it depends, thither it turns its gaze and strives to go, and it concerns itself with our doings only as a being superior to ourselves.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 41
When I look to the natural world outside of me, I see constant cycles of change, of countless transformations, and so I cannot help but be in awe of its subtle design. The hierarchy is permeated through and through by the rule of Mind.
When I further look to the intentional world inside of me, I see a reflection of that same harmony, of the greater informing the lesser, and so I cannot help but be in awe of its profound arrangement. There is a divine spark quickening the flesh.
When my ignorance fills me with doubt, I calmly remember how every effect proceeds from a cause, and what appears as aimless is always guided by a binding conception.
When my vanity rejects my place within the whole, I take a moment to recognize how the tiny consciousness within receives all of its power from an absolute Consciousness.
Those who are truly great, by which I mean those of an indomitable character instead of those with a fat wallet, are only capable of their remarkable virtues because they perceive the world from the top down—the proper perspective puts everything in its rightful place.
Upon gazing closely at a finger, the splinter seems a torture, but when contemplating the grand order, the very body, along with all of its petty attachments, are now of little consequence. It is all made possible by an awareness that the inferior can never overwhelm the superior.
It is indeed Godlike, in that the creature has joined himself to the Creator. However grave the misfortune or intense the pain, a free judgment does not have to be subject to the limitations of the mindless matter. It is about knowing where it comes from, and so also to where it must return.
The legends about Saint Lawrence maintaining his demeanor, and even his sense of humor, as he was being roasted alive once seemed ridiculous to me. Along with the scoffing historians, I was sure the story was a total fabrication.
Yet while I can’t know what actually happened to Lawrence, I do know quite well how the best people I have had been blessed to meet can manage to achieve much the same thing. They discover a strength within themselves that is inconceivable to the secular materialist, who sadly imagines he is just a bundle of bone, muscle, and nerves.
When I look to the natural world outside of me, I see constant cycles of change, of countless transformations, and so I cannot help but be in awe of its subtle design. The hierarchy is permeated through and through by the rule of Mind.
When I further look to the intentional world inside of me, I see a reflection of that same harmony, of the greater informing the lesser, and so I cannot help but be in awe of its profound arrangement. There is a divine spark quickening the flesh.
When my ignorance fills me with doubt, I calmly remember how every effect proceeds from a cause, and what appears as aimless is always guided by a binding conception.
When my vanity rejects my place within the whole, I take a moment to recognize how the tiny consciousness within receives all of its power from an absolute Consciousness.
Those who are truly great, by which I mean those of an indomitable character instead of those with a fat wallet, are only capable of their remarkable virtues because they perceive the world from the top down—the proper perspective puts everything in its rightful place.
Upon gazing closely at a finger, the splinter seems a torture, but when contemplating the grand order, the very body, along with all of its petty attachments, are now of little consequence. It is all made possible by an awareness that the inferior can never overwhelm the superior.
It is indeed Godlike, in that the creature has joined himself to the Creator. However grave the misfortune or intense the pain, a free judgment does not have to be subject to the limitations of the mindless matter. It is about knowing where it comes from, and so also to where it must return.
The legends about Saint Lawrence maintaining his demeanor, and even his sense of humor, as he was being roasted alive once seemed ridiculous to me. Along with the scoffing historians, I was sure the story was a total fabrication.
Yet while I can’t know what actually happened to Lawrence, I do know quite well how the best people I have had been blessed to meet can manage to achieve much the same thing. They discover a strength within themselves that is inconceivable to the secular materialist, who sadly imagines he is just a bundle of bone, muscle, and nerves.
—Reflection written in 1/2013
IMAGE: Hipolito de Rioja, The Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence (c. 1650)
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