Download THE CONSECRATED LIFE AND THE NATURAL DESIRE TO SEE

THIRSTING FOR GOD1
Anthony A. Akinwale, O.P.
Professor of Theology and President
Dominican Institute
Ibadan
Unnatural and Disposable? An Attempt to State the Problem
This essay is principally dependent on St. Thomas Aquinas’ insights on religious life in its
relation to the goal of human existence. It is written with two major issues in mind. First, is the
issue of poor perception of religious life on the part of many, including some religious. Such
poor perception is often manifest when news of a scandal involving a religious or priest hits
newspaper headlines. The second issue is what I have chosen to call the disposable attitude in
religious life. It is usually the adopted attitude of many religious in moments of personal crisis.
Concerning the first, the evangelical counsels are perceived as either humanly possible or
humanly impossible to embrace. To those who see the counsels as humanly possible but difficult
to embrace, the religious is seen as a hero. To others who think it is not merely difficult but
totally impossible to embrace them with fidelity, the religious is, at best, an abnormal person, or,
at worst, a hypocrite. There is a common perception of the consecrated life as a lifestyle that is
contrary to desires that pertain to the very nature of the human person. In discussions, it is
rightly pointed out that every human being has a natural desire for the possession of temporal
goods, for bodily pleasures that pertain to sexuality, marriage and procreation, and for the use of
free will. However, continues the argument, the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and
obedience necessarily involve the renunciation of these. It is therefore concluded that religious
life is unnatural and abnormal.
This position is further amplified. For it is argued that the consecrated life establishes a
covenantal relationship between God and the individual. It is then pointed out that in the
Hebrew Scriptures, the covenant between God and human beings is not a covenant of equals.
Human beings are, as it were, junior partners in the covenant. And when God calls who can
refuse to answer? It would therefore seem, going by this argument, that religious life, like a
covenantal relationship so conceived, represents a negation of the freedom of association that
pertains to human dignity. Viewed through the prism of convenantal relationship, it would seem
the God who freely calls the individual compels the individual to respond. No one can resist the
call without telling consequences. No one can say no.
Concerning the second issue we have to contend with, the issue of disposabilism in the
religious life, there is the often unstated but perceptible doctrine that sees the vows as disposable.
This perception of the vows as disposable comes from a functionalist outlook on the religious
life. The functionalist outlook is itself an offshoot of reductionism, while the reductionism is an
almost inevitable consequence of a dualist anthropology. These assertions call for explanation.
By way of explanation, I suggest, with a brief review of the history of western
philosophy, that what we are dealing with here can be traced to the dualism that came from the
1
Paper read at the Dominican Institute, Ibadan, on April 1, 2000, as one in the series of eight
Saturday-lectures on the Theology of Religious Life organized by the Institute.
2
Greek philosopher Plato, through the French philosopher René Descartes. Plato, it may be
recalled, considered all that is in the material world as a copy or shadow of the real world, which
is the world of forms. The relationship between the two entities is, in Plato’s philosophy, at best
ambiguous, at worst insoluble. The dichotomy between the material world and the real world is
the dichotomy between the soul and the body. The soul is a prisoner of the body. It is in need
of liberation from the body. The happy person is the one whose soul is freed from the
encumbrances of the body.
Whoever steps into the river of dualism almost inevitably washes in the waters of
reductionism. Hence, with the soul-body dualism as point of departure, the temptation to reduce
the human person to either of the two, that is, to either soul(mind) or body becomes difficult to
resist. It would seem Descartes succumbed to this temptation when, in his First Meditations, he
made the ability to think, which is the power of the mind, that which explains the existence of
man. The human being is because he or she thinks. The human being is, by that fact, defined
not in terms of his compositeness but in terms of what he does, that is, in terms of one power of
one of the Cartesian entities: he thinks, therefore he is. The dualism of Descartes surreptitiously
introduced functionalism to discussions on the human person. According to this functionalist
anthropology, the value of the human person is predicated, not on what he or she is, but on what
he or she does. It is not even predicated on all he does but on one of the things he does, that is,
on his intellective capacity. This psychological reductionism, which Thomas Aquinas deftly
avoids in his discourse on the soul, is joyfully embraced by modern philosophy. 2 Anything
whatsoever, whose worth is predicated on its functions, ceases to be considered as valuable if it
can no longer perform the function for which it has been defined.
The reduction of the person to a function is a chosification of the person, that is, the
ultimate reduction of the person to a thing to be used and dumped. By extension, seeing the
consecrated life in terms of functions is not unconnected with the ambiguous proposition of
temporary and conditional vocations, a proposition which has assumed the status of a topical
issue in many a general chapter in certain religious institutes in the older Churches of Europe and
North America, as opposed to the unconditional discipleship to which every Christian is called,
and, in a specific way, the lifetime commitment to which the consecrated person is called. In
addition, such functionalism ultimately reduces the religious vocation and the vows to disposable
objects. And, wherever and whenever the consecrated life is reduced to a disposable object, not
only are the vows broken, they are smashed to pieces and matched and ground into dust. If and
when the human person is reduced to a mobile bundle of sensations, then only the good of the
body is sought. However, since the vows require renunciation of bodily good, they do not
function to provide bodily good. And since that which does not function is ipso facto perceived
as worthless and disposable, the vows are treated as disposable. We would have then moved
from the soul-body dualism, to the reduction of the human person to either soul or body, in this
case to body; from the reduction of the human person to body, to the reduction of the human
person to just one of his or her functions, in this case the function of feeling; and finally, from
the reduction of the human person to functions or a function, to disposableness because of
inability to function. This is the problem of disposabilism, which is not just a problem of
2
See Summa theol., I, 77.1; 54.3; Sent., Bk. I, dist. 3, 4.2; De anima, art. 12; Quodl., X, 3.1; De
spir. creat., art. 11. It is also to be mentioned in passing that while, for Descartes, the human
person is reduced to a thinking being, for Hobbes in his Leviathan, the human person is reduced
to his or her feelings.
3
consecrated persons in Europe and North America. It is also taking place in the young Churches
of Africa today. The modern religious, whether he or she is of western or non-western roots, and
whether or not he or she is conscious of this, easily becomes a disciple of the creeping
functionalism and paralyzing disposablism that bedevils the religious life today.
The aim of this essay is to attempt to address these and related issue by demonstrating
that the religious life, contrary to the popular opinion that it is against the fulfilment of the
desires of the human spirit, is in fact a manifestation of the most profound desire of the human
spirit as well as a way of life that facilitates its fulfillment. The consecrated life is therefore
natural and normal even as it is unusual. The real issue then is, that which is unusual is very
often mistaken to be abnormal. The essay proposes three principal theses: that there is, in the
rational creature, a natural desire to see God; that this natural desire to see God is fulfilled in the
attainment of the ultimate good of human life in the contemplation of the divine essence; and that
the evangelical counsels facilitate the attainment of the vision of the divine essence. The
evolution of these three theses informs the tripartite division of the essay. In the first part, we
shall endeavor to explain what we mean by the natural desire to see God. In the second part, we
shall attempt to explain the relationship between this natural desire and the ultimate good of
human existence. And in the third and final part, we shall attempt to present the evangelical
counsels as pathways to the vision of the divine essence.
On the Rational Creature’s Natural Desire to See God
In a world that has its fair share of atheists and agnostics, and in which the problem of
evil and injustices constitute a formidable challenge to our faith in God, is it not an absurdity to
speak of a natural desire to see God that pertains to the human creature?
We need to demonstrate that there is such a thing as natural desire to see God in the
rational creature, after which we shall have to illustrate what we would have tried to
demonstrate. The rational creature’s natural desire for God is seen in the creature’s unrelenting
quest for being, good, and truth. If it can be shown that the human spirit is in search of being,
good, and truth, then we would have at least alluded to the basis of the assertion that there is a
natural desire to see God in the rational creature. A creature has a natural desire for God because
the creature naturally desires its own good. But if this statement is to make any sense, we must,
at least, clarify what is meant when we say a thing is good.
When a thing is said to be good what is meant is that it is desirable.3 According to
Aquinas, it pertains to the essence of goodness that it is in some way desirable. Good is that
which all things desire, and a thing is good in proportion to its desirableness. Since, in desiring
it, all things tend towards it, goodness has the aspect of an end.
All things desire their own perfection, and the perfection of a thing is attained in its
likeness to its cause. Therefore, when a thing desires its own perfection it desires its cause. The
cause of a thing is desirable and has the nature of a good. Now, everything naturally desires its
own perfection, and, as a consequence, naturally desires its own cause. And, since a cause is
desirable and has the nature of a good, in seeking its own cause, a thing is seeking its own good.
Cf. Summa theol., I, 5.1. For an important clarification, see I, 6.2 ad 2: “When we say that good
is what all desire, it is not to be understood that every kind of good thing is desired by all; but
that whatever is desired has the nature of good.”
3
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God, being the first effective cause of things, has the aspect of good and of desirableness
in a most excellent way. Hence,
All things, by desiring their own perfection, desire God Himself, inasmuch as the perfections of
all things are so many similitudes of the divine being. . . . And so of those things which desire
God, some know Him as He is Himself, and this is proper to the rational creature; others know
some participation of His goodness, and this belongs also to sensible knowledge; others have a
natural desire without knowledge, as being directed to their ends by a higher intelligence
(Summa theol., I, 6.1, ad. 2).
To speak of the natural desire for God is to affirm that the creature, by its own nature, naturally
desires its own goodness in its natural desire for its own likeness to its first effective cause, that
is God, who alone is essentially good, and to whom goodness belongs pre-eminently. The
rational creature’s natural desire for good is a natural desire for God because the perfection of the
rational creature, which the rational creature seeks naturally, consists in its likeness to God. The
natural desire for good is fundamentally identical with the natural desire for God in so far as the
rational creature’s desire for its perfection is fulfilled in its attainment of God.
So far, we have been making an effort to demonstrate the rational creature’s natural
desire to see God. It is now left for us to attempt to provide some illustration of what we have
been striving to demonstrate.
Gen. 1: 27-28 teaches that God created the man and the woman in his image and likeness.
With this, it is affirmed that the image of God in the human person is in the human capacity to
know the truth by the act of his intellect and the human capacity to choose the good by the act of
his will. The human creature’s natural and unrelenting desire for being, good, and truth means
his life is taken up by hunger and thirst for beauty, for love (to love and be loved), for truth and
for good. This is true of every human creature, irrespective of culture, tribe or race.
The various attempts of different peoples of every age, color and culture to know the
truth about the nature of the universe and the truth about human nature bear testimony to the
inquisitiveness of the human mind. The human mind endeavors to know the truth about the
universe and about the place of the human creature in the universe. The need and the desire to
know the truth about the universe and about the origin of the human creature (where we are
coming from), his goal (where we are going), the purpose or meaning of this earthly existence
(why we are here); these find expression in the pre-Socratic philosophers’ attempts to know the
basic element of the universe. Thales of Miletus thought water was the basic element from
which every other thing originated. Anaximander, his disciple, thought he found the basic
element in a boundless atmosphere. Heraclitus, for his part, thought the universe was a
ceaseless cycle of change from fire to air, to water, to earth; and back from earth to water and to
fire. In this endless cycle, nothing is constant, nothing in life is permanent, and nothing can be
held unto. Life is an ever-flowing river that does not allow one to step into it twice. Parmenides
opposed Heraclitus arguing in favor of permanence. There are no changes but appearances of
change. Change is only in our imagination – beauty, sadness and joy – these are all appearances.
Other illustrations of this quest for the truth about the universe abound. But Socrates and
Plato changed the tenor of the discussion by shifting from inquiry into the truth about the
universe to inquiry about the nature of the human person itself. Having posited the seen and
unseen world, the world of Ideas and the world of appearances in which we live, Plato taught
that the beauty and moral goodness for which human beings strive cannot be found in this world
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where all the things we see, including ourselves, are not merely copies but poor copies of the
exemplars in the world of Ideas.
The spirit of inquiry is exemplified by, but not exclusive to, the efforts of the Greek
philosophers. Various peoples of Africa are famous for their own explanations of the origin of
the universe and of the origin of the man and the woman who live in it. Such cosmogonies are
so numerous that we cannot recall them here. Suffice it to make reference to the instrumental
role that Yoruba traditional religion attributes to Orunmila in Olodumare’s creative venture.
It is my submission that the attempts of these various philosophers to know the truth
about the universe, and the truth about the place of the human person in it, bear testimony to the
restless search of the human intellect for truth. In other words, we see at work in these
philosophers the power of the human intellect desiring and struggling to know the truth. St.
Thomas Aquinas explains this yearning for truth in terms of the natural inquisitiveness of the
human intellect whose perception of an effect sets in motion a whole process of inquiry into the
cause. The creatures we see are effects which move us to want to know their cause. And this
inquiry, when it is pursued to its logical conclusion leads us to know God. The natural desire to
see God is to be explained in terms of this natural inquisitiveness about the cause of any effect
we see. This natural desire for the cause of things includes a natural desire to know the First
Cause of all things, which is God. Hence, Aquinas would postulate, using Rom. 1:20, that we
know the invisible God from his visible effects. God is known from his effects, and the inquiry
into the cause of effects, which is what the human intellect embarks upon naturally when it sees
effects, is in fact a natural inquiry about God. Consequently, in rejecting as untenable on the
grounds of faith and reason the agnostic opinion that no created intellect can see the essence of
God, Aquinas wrote:
as the ultimate beatitude of man consists in the use of his highest function, which is the operation
of the intellect; if we suppose that the created intellect could never see God, it would either never
attain to beatitude, or its beatitude would consist in something else beside God; which is opposed
to faith. For the ultimate perfection of the rational creature is to be found in that which is the
principle of its being; since a thing is perfect so far as it attains to its principle. Further the same
opinion is also against reason. For there resides in every man a natural desire to know the cause
of any effect which he sees; and thence arises wonder in men. But if the intellect of the rational
creature could not reach so far as to the first cause of things [God], the natural desire would
remain void.4
4
St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theol., I, 12.1; see also his Expositio super librum Boethii De
trinitate, 1.1; Sent., I, d. 3, 1.1 and 1.3. For a clarification concerning the limitations of
knowledge of God from causes see his statement in Summa theol., I, 12.12: “Our natural
knowledge begins from sense. Hence our natural knowledge can go as far as it can be led by
sensible things. But our mind cannot be led by sense so far as to see the essence of God; because
the sensible effects of God do not equal the power of God as their cause. Hence from the
knowledge of sensible things the whole power of God cannot be known; nor therefore can his
essence be seen. But because they are His effects and depend on their cause, we can be led from
them so far as to know of God whether He exists, and to know of Him what must necessarily
belong to Him, as the first cause of all things, exceeding all things caused by Him.”
6
What then would one make of the likely objection of the atheist or agnostic who insists
that he or she does not perceive such a desire for God? To address this objection, we have to
take into account that desires are desires whether or not they are perceived. In fact, some of the
most profound desires and needs in human beings go unperceived until some person or event
calls the attention of the desiring subject to their reality. Such is the case of a person who,
unknown to him, is in need of healing from a terminal illness. The need may only manifest itself
when it is probably too late to effect a cure. All human beings need God. But not all are aware
of this need. The psalmist was not only in tune with this profound longing of every human spirit,
he expressed it in words that come from the heart, and whose eloquence touches the heart,
saying:
Like the deer that yearns
for running streams,
so my soul is yearning
for you my God.
My soul is thirsting for God,
the God of my life;
when can I enter and see
the face of God? (Ps 42:1-3)
Even though the God he desired seemed to be an absent God, he was still full of hope:
I will say to God, my rock:
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go on mourning,
oppressed by the foe?”
With cries that pierce me to the heart,
my enemies revile me,
saying to me all the day long:
“Where is your God?”
Why are you cast down, my soul,
why groan within me?
Hope in God; I will praise him still,
my savior and my God (Ps 43:9-11).
And in another psalm, he said:
O God, you are my God, for you I long;
for you my soul is thirsting.
My body pines for you
like a dry, weary land without water.
So I gaze on you in the sanctuary
to see your strength and your glory. . . .
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On my bed I remember you.
On you I muse through the night. . . .
My soul clings to you;
your right hand holds me fast (Ps 63:1-2. 6 and 8).
On the Contemplation of God in his Essence as the Ultimate Good of the Human Creature
To embrace the evangelical counsels is to pose a human act. In order to describe the
relationship between the evangelical counsels and the natural desire to see God, we have to begin
by describing the human act and the nature of the last end to which all rational creatures
naturally tend.5
A human act is one of which the human agent is master. And a human agent is master of
an action if the action proceeds from reason and free will (Summa theol., I-II, 1.1). Every human
act is a deliberate move towards the attainment of an end. This is different from the movement
of an agent that lacks reason. Such an agent is moved by another and not by itself (Summa
theol., I-II, 1.2). The end for which the human will strives is the good. Hence, the goal of every
human act is the good (Summa theol., I-II, 1.3). Which brings us to the description of the last
end of human life.
Since there are many human acts, and since a human act has the good as its goal, one is logically
bound to say there are many goods. But there is a supreme good. And it is this supreme good
that is the last or ultimate end of human life. This merits further explanation.
Since there are so many human acts, it would seem that the human will proceeds to
infinity, that is to say, it would seem there is no last end of human life. But we cannot proceed
indefinitely in the positing of last end. It is therefore necessary to fix a last end to which all
human actions tend (Summa theol., I-II, 1.4). Even though we have many human actions, the
very nature of a last end makes it impossible to have several last ends. The reasons that inform
this position merit enumeration (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 1.5): first, the last end or the final goal of
human life is that in which the human being rests upon its attainment. If it were not its last end,
the human creature would not rest in it. The last end is that from which the human being takes
his or her entire rule of life. The which is the last end of a man or woman is the master of all
affections of that man or woman. Such an end can only be one, and all other ends are ordered by
it. Therefore, there can be only one last end.
Secondly, the last end is that which is desired by the human agent as his or her perfect
and crowning good. The human appetite is so much consumed in its desire for such an end that
nothing is left for it to desire. In this regard, “it is not possible for the appetite so to tend to two
things as though each were its perfect good.” We can therefore understand why Jesus taught in
the sermon on the mount that no one can serve two masters (Mt. 6:24). By virtue of the allconsuming nature of a last end, it leaves no room for any other good to be desired. All other
goods are relativized by the ultimate end because their beauty pales before it.
Thirdly, what is true of the process of reasoning is also true of the process of willing. In
the process of reasoning, the principle is that which is naturally known. In the same way, in the
process of willing, the principle is that which is naturally desired. Since nature can tend to one
thing only, that to which the rational appetite naturally tends, which is its last end, can only be
one.
5
Here we rely on Aquinas’ treatise on the ultimate end of human life in the secunda secundae.
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Fourthly, voluntary actions receive their genus and species from the last end. Since all
things desired by the will belong as such to one genus, the last end must be one. Whatever is
desired by the human heart is desired under the aspect of good, that is, it is desired either because
it is the perfect good, which is the last end, or because it is a good leading to the perfect good
(Summa theol., I-II, 1.6).
The last end can be spoken of in two ways, that is, either by considering only the aspect
of the last end, or by considering the thing in which the aspect of last end is realized.
Concerning the first, there is unanimity, since all desire the last end by the fact that they desire
the fulfilment of their perfection. But concerning the second, that is, that in which the last end is
attained, there is no unanimity (Summa theol., I-II, 1.7). For while some desire riches as their
ultimate good, some others desire honor, some fame or glory, some others power, some pleasure
or any created good.
But the ultimate good of human life cannot be wealth (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 2.1). For
the ultimate good is not sought for the sake of any other thing, since it is that in which the human
soul rests upon its attainment. Instead, the ultimate good is that for the sake of which every other
good is sought. Wealth, however, is sought for the sake of something else, that is, for the sake of
the necessaries of life like food, clothing, housing etc. Therefore, the ultimate good of human
life is not found in wealth.
Neither is the ultimate good of human life found in honors (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 2.2).
Honor is granted in attestation to the excellence that is in the person honored. Excellence is
itself proportional to happiness. Consequently, it is the case that while honor can result from
happiness, happiness cannot principally consist in honor. In other words, the one who is honored
may not be happy, in so far as he or she lacks virtue or excellence; whereas the one who is happy
may not be honored in so far as his or her virtues or excellence go unrecognized or
unappreciated. One who is honored with a chieftaincy title is not happy if he is not virtuous.
Another who has no chieftaincy title may be happy because he is virtuous. Therefore, to be
honored and to be happy are not necessarily the same thing, and to be honored is not the same as
to have attained the ultimate good.
Neither is the ultimate good found in fame or glory (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 2.3). Glory
consists in being well known and praised by others. But human knowledge cannot cause the
thing known. Instead, it is caused by the thing known. In this regard, human knowledge is
unlike God’s knowledge which is cause of the thing known. For this reason, human knowledge
cannot be the cause of ultimate good. Moreover, if fame or glory is in being well known, and if
human knowledge can be erroneous, in its error, it may confer glory on an undeserving person.
But there is no good in undeserved glory conferred by erroneous human knowledge or by the
whims and caprices of flatterers. Therefore, the ultimate good of human life cannot be said to
consist in fame or glory.
Neither is the ultimate good found in power (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 2.4). For while it is
true that some happiness is found in the virtuous use of power, the very fact of the acquisition of
power, while other goods like wisdom and bodily health are lacking, means the ultimate good is
yet to be attained. Therefore, the ultimate good does not consist in the attainment of power even
though the good use of power can lead to the attainment of ultimate good.
Neither is the ultimate good of human life found in any bodily good (cf. Summa theol., III, 2.5). For the good of the human creature is the good of the human creature as composite of
body and soul, not the good of the body alone, nor the good of the soul alone. The human quest
for good is not just a quest of the body nor just the quest of the soul of the human creature. It is
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the human creature as composite that is striving for the good. It is the quest of the human
composite. This is to avoid the dualism that breeds reductionism, the reductionism that breeds
functionalism, and the functionalism that breeds the belief and practice which sees the religious
vows as disposable objects. Therefore, the good of the body alone does not suffice for its
ultimate good.
Neither is the ultimate good found in pleasure (Summa theol., I-II, 2.6). Pleasure is a
good of the body which is apprehended by sense. As a good pertaining to the body, it cannot be
a perfect good since the capacity of the rational soul exceeds the capacity of corporeal matter,
and that part of the soul which is independent of corporeal organ, like the intellect, has a certain
infinity in regard to the body and those parts of the soul tied down to the body. Pleasure as a
good of the body is limited to the extent that the body is limited. And while the power of the
senses, which is a power of the body, apprehends the singular, which is determined by matter,
the power of the intellect, which is a power independent of matter, apprehends the universal,
which is abstracted from matter, and contains an infinite number of singulars. Therefore, such a
good causing bodily delight through its apprehension by sense is not a perfect good.
Neither is the ultimate good of human life found in some good of the soul (cf. Summa
theol., I-II, 2.7). For the soul exists in potentiality whereas that which is last end does not exist
in potentiality. Neither can anything belonging to the soul be the last end because any good
which pertains to the soul is a participated and, consequently, a portioned good.6
From all that has been said so far, we can conclude that the perfection of human life is
not found in any created good (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 2.8). For if it pertains to the human will to
tend to the universal good as its object, in the same way that it pertains to the human intellect to
tend to the universal true as its object, then it would follow that nothing will put the will to rest
except that which is the universal good. This universal good cannot be found in any creature
because the goodness of a created good is a goodness by participation. The universal good is in
God who alone can satisfy the human will. Therefore, the ultimate good of human life is to be
found in God. God alone constitutes human happiness.
St. Thomas Aquinas proposes two reasons why the ultimate good of human life is to be
found, not in the contemplation of the essence of any creature, but in the contemplation of divine
essence itself (cf. Summa theol., I-II, 3.8). First, no one is perfectly happy for whom something
remains to desire and seek. Secondly, the perfection of any power is contingent on the nature of
its object. The intellective power attains its perfection when it apprehends the essence or whatness of a thing. As was said in the previous section of the essay, the apprehension of a created
effect by the intellect provokes in it wonder and the desire to know its First Cause. However, the
human intellect does not reach its perfection by simply knowing the First Cause from knowing
its created effect. Knowing that there is a First Cause provokes the desire to know what the First
Cause is. And as long as this or any desire remains, the human intellect cannot be said to have
found its perfection or ultimate felicity. Therefore, for it to attain perfect happiness, the human
intellect must know three things: the essence of a created effect, the existence of its First Cause,
and the essence of the First Cause.
The ultimate happiness of the human intellect, which is the perfection of human life, is
attained in its union with God in the contemplation of the divine essence. The ultimate good of
According to Aquinas: “Happiness itself, since it is a perfection of the soul, is an inherent good
of the soul; but that which constitutes happiness, viz., which makes man happy is something
outside his soul” (Summa theol., I-II, 2.7, ad 3).
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human life is attained when the natural desire to see God is fulfilled in the vision of the divine
essence. It is this attainment of perfect happiness that the book of the Apocalypse of John
describes in the liturgy of Compline on Sundays, saying, “They will see his face, and his name
will be written on their foreheads. And there shall not be night anymore, and they shall have no
need of light from lamps or the sun, for the Lord God will shine on them, and they will reign as
kings forever and ever” (Rev. 22:4-5).
In the first part of this essay, we made an effort establish what is meant by the natural
desire to see God; in the second part, we attempted to show how this desire is satisfied in the
contemplation of the divine essence. What remains is to show how the evangelical counsels help
us to attain the fulfilment of this natural desire.
On the Relationship between the Evangelical Counsels and the Natural Desire to See God
The evangelical counsels go to the heart of the reductionism I referred to in the
introductory part of the essay. The reduction of the human person to a two-legged bundle of
sensations leads to the error of thinking the ultimate good of life consists in a good of the body,
and that only bodily good is to be sought. To counter this, the evangelical counsels involve the
renunciation of certain good things of life, transient things that are often mistaken for the
ultimate good: riches, honor, fame, power, pleasure, or any created good of soul or body. The
good is that which all creatures desire. God is infinitely desirable. Therefore, even in the
misdirected search for ultimate good in created and finite goods, God is the greatest good which
all creatures desire. To use the words of the Protestant theologian, Paul Tillich, God is the
Ultimate Concern of human beings.
The natural desire to see God is fulfilled in the creature’s attainment of its own perfection
in God. Consequently, there is a relationship between this end and the call to perfection in the
Gospel. But, as Aquinas argues in his opusculum on the religious life, De perfectione spiritualis
vitae, there can be no perfection without charity.7 For a detailed discussion of the context that
gave birth to the text, cf. Jean-Pierre Torrell’s St. Thomas Aquinas, Volume 1: The Person and
His Work (Washington, DC: The Catholic University of America Press, 1996) ch. 5.
St. Thomas began the treatise by recognizing that there are a number of ways by which
one can speak of the perfection of a thing (De perfect., ch. 1). A thing can be said to be perfect
absolutely or relatively. The absolute perfection of a thing consists in its acquisition of all that
belongs to its nature, while the relative perfection of a thing consists in its development of some
attribute that do not necessarily belong to its nature. An animal is absolutely perfect when it
possesses all that is required for the fullness of its animal life: the full number of limbs, organs
and parts arranged in congruence, as well as a good size. The same animal is relatively perfect
when it possesses, in a way that is outstanding, something that does not necessarily pertain to its
nature, like whiteness or odor.
All that has just been said applies to the animal life. But that which is true of animal life
is, in this respect, also true of the spiritual life. That is to say, “in the spiritual life a man is said
to be absolutely perfect when he is perfect in that in which the spiritual life principally consists;
This work was written in response to Gerard of Abbeville’s attacks on the mendicant orders.
The occasion of the polemics afforded Aquinas the opportunity to develop his theology of
religious life and Christian perfection. The work represents an anticipation of the discussion of
the same topic in the Summa theologiae, II-II, questions 179-189. We shall rely principally on
this short treatise in this section of the essay.
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but he is perfect in some respect in the spiritual life when he is perfect in something other than
the essential constituent of the spiritual life; say knowledge of mathematics.” In what then does
spiritual perfection principally consist in?
For St. Thomas Aquinas, spiritual perfection has perfect charity as its necessary attribute.
The spiritual life consists principally in charity such that if charity be missing one cannot be
considered to be spiritually perfect. This is how the words of the Apostle Paul is to be
understood when he wrote in 1 Cor 13:2: “If I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all
knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, yet do not have charity, I am
nothing”. Or, to use the words of the first letter of John: “We know we have passed from death
to life because we love the brethren. The one who loves not abides in death” (1 Jn. 3:14). In
other words, spiritual perfection is attained in perfect love of God and neighbor, while someone
who is perfect by the fact of his or her possession of any other quality is not absolutely but
relatively perfect. And the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience exist for this
purpose, that is, to facilitate the human response to the evangelical call to perfection in the
attainment of charity.
Charity is not to be understood as philanthropy which is primarily love of humanity, but
principally love of God, and secondarily love of neighbor. Hence, Aquinas, while explaining the
mutuality of love of God and love of neighbor, affirms: “what must be principally loved through
charity is God, the supreme good and source of man’s happiness. After God we are obliged by
charity to love our neighbor, to whom we are bound by special social ties due to our common
vocation to happiness” (De perfect., ch. 2).
But only God can love himself perfectly according to the highest degree of perfection.
“Since a thing is lovable to the extent that it is good, and since the goodness of God is infinite, he
is infinitely lovable. However, no creature can is capable of loving God infinitely, because an
infinite act is impossible to a finite power. Consequently, only God, whose power to love
matches his goodness, can love himself perfectly according to the first degree of perfection” (De
perfect., ch. 3). The rational creature can love God only to a degree, that is, imperfectly. What
Dt 6:15 asks of us can only be realized in the blessed. They alone love God with their whole
heart, soul, and strength and mind. We who are in this life are yet to meet that goal. That is why
Aquinas says we are in via. As pilgrims on the way to our God, our heart and soul and mind, all
our faculties must tend to God. We therefore have three kinds of love of God: God’s love of
himself, which is perfect, the love of God by the blessed (comprehensor), and the love of God
by the pilgrim (viator).
The degree of love found in the blessed, whereby God is loved with the whole mind,
heart, soul and strength, is not expected of pilgrims who are still struggling heavenward (De
perfect., ch.5). For now, in order to be saved, the viator in this life must refer all to God as his
end, he must submit his intellect to God by believing what has been divinely revealed; he must
love whatever he loves in God and not apart from God; he must relate all his desires and
affections to God; all his outward actions, words, and works must be tempered with the love of
God.8
“This, therefore, is the third kind of perfect love of God, and to it every man is obligated by a
necessity of precept. The second kind is not possible to anyone in this life, unless he be both a
viator and a comprensor, as was our Lord, Jesus Christ” (De perfect., ch. 5).
8
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It is the third kind of perfect love, that is, the pilgrim’s love of God, that falls under
counsel. The perfection of the blessed is not attainable by us in this world. Yet, we have to
strive for it as far as possible. St. Thomas Aquinas says:
It is in this that perfection of the wayfarer’s life lies, and to it we are invited by the counsels. For
it is plain that the human heart will tend more intensively toward one object the more it turns
away from the many other things it can love. Consequently, man’s spirit will be borne more
perfectly toward loving God to the extent that his affections are turned from the love of temporal
things. . . . all the counsels, by which we are invited to perfection, aim at the one objective of
turning the spirit of a man from attraction to temporal things, so that his mind may the more
freely tend to God by contemplating him, by loving him, and by fulfilling his will (De perfect.,
ch. 6).
All the counsels exist for the pursuit of perfect charity. And in this regard, Aquinas
describes poverty as the first road to perfection, chastity as the second, and obedience as the third
(De perfect., ch. 7).
Poverty: Renunciation of Temporal Goods9
The rich young man was a good man. But he wanted to be perfect. So he was counseled:
“if you want to be perfect, go and sell all that you possess and give to the poor and you shall
have treasure in heaven, and come follow me” (Mt. 19:21). The evangelical counsel of poverty
expresses the transcendence of the kingdom and the priority of spiritual perfection. Aquinas
cites Church fathers who have offered beautiful commentaries on this passage. For St. Jerome,
that the young man had great possessions means thorns and thistles choked the flower of our
Lord’s teachings in his life. For St. John Chrysostom, those with few possessions and those with
many possessions are slowed down in different ways because riches ignite a stronger flame and
endangers a more violent type of covetousness. For St. Augustine, excessive love for earthly
possessions creates stronger chains to bind us than possessions which are merely desired. Hence,
what the rich young man already possessed made him to give up his desire for perfection. He
went away sad. And for Aquinas, the flame of possession is greater than the flame of
covetousness because “it is one thing not to covet what one does not yet have and another thing
to lay aside what is already in one’s treasure; the former are forsaken as something foreign, the
latter are removed as friendly members.”
A clarification is necessary at this point. Our Lord is not saying in the Gospel that it is
impossible for the rich to enter te kingdom of heaven. Rather, he is saying that the rich would
enter it with difficulty. Poverty places those who aspire to perfection at an advantage. In this
respect, it is a way, not the way, to perfection. Abraham was rich. But he was detached from his
riches so that he could focus on God. The ultimate good of human life, it has been said over and
over again in this essay, is the contemplation of God. The contemplation of Truth increases
charity. Possessions can hinder this contemplation, whereas poverty can facilitate this
contemplation. Therein lies the wisdom behind our Lord’s counsel to the rich young man.
Poverty is holy if it helps to attain charity. In other words, the mere fact of poverty does not
9
See also Summa theol., II-II, 186.3.
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guarantee the attainment of perfection. In the final analysis, the true test of poverty is found in
charity.
The value of evangelical poverty as a prophetic stance against greed, materialism and
consumerism cannot be overlooked. Those who embrace evangelical poverty and its simplicity
can speak to the world. This is attested to by Pope John Paul II while speaking of the evangelical
counsels as reflection of Trinitarian life:
Poverty proclaims that God is man’s only real treasure. When poverty is lived according to the
example of Christ who, “though he was rich. . . became poor”, it becomes an expression of the
total gift of self which the three Divine Persons make to one another. This gift overflows into
creation and is fully revealed in the Incarnation of the Word and in his redemptive death (Vita
consecrata, 21).
The opportunity to speak to the world about the futility of materialism is lost when greed,
materialism and consumerism find their way into religious institutes, and when extravagance
takes the place of simplicity in the lives of consecrated persons.
Chastity: Renunciation of Bodily Pleasures and Marriage10
Beginning with a statement from St. Augustine, “The less we love our own good, the
more apt we are to cling to God”, Aquinas proceeds to assert that the value of the good we
sacrifice for the love of God is the measure we use to judge the value of what leads us to union
with God. In poverty, external goods, that is, goods separate from our nature, are renounced.
But in chastity, we renounce goods that are very close to us and to our nature. Was the Lord
asking us to hate bodily pleasures? Was he who taught us to love even our enemies teaching us
to hate marriage and family ties by counseling chastity?
For Aquinas, because bodily affections have the capacity to distract the attention of the
mind, we must show a “holy hatred” for bodily pleasures “by loving them for what they are and
hating whatever there is in them that blocks our way to God” (De perfect., ch. 8). Those who
wish to more freely give themselves to God must avoid marriage and sex at all costs because
marriage entangles in worldly cares and sexual pleasure is the most intense and most absorbing
of human passions. It is very difficult to renounce such pleasures. But the ability to do so is a
gift from God that requires the response of human cooperation and effort. The arduousness of
living a chaste life comes from three obstacle: one from the body, another from the soul, and a
third from persons and things outside a person.
Considering the body, the intensity of lust increases when the flesh is indulged by excess
of food and the softness of pleasure. “Consequently,” says Aquinas, “those who would enter the
way of continence must chastise their flesh by abstinence from pleasures and exercise
themselves by fasts and vigils and things of this sort.”
Considering the soul, “prolonged cogitation of certain matters is apt to beget a strong
desire for them.” There is danger when one prolongs thoughts about sexual pleasure. Aquinas
proposes five ways out of this situation. The first way is to focus the mind on prayer and the
contemplation of divine realities. The second way is to love to study Scripture, because, as St.
Jerome said in his exhortation to Rusticus, “Love to study the Scriptures and you will not love
the vices of the flesh.” The third way is to keep the soul from unwholesome thoughts. The
10
See also Summa theol., II-II, 186.4.
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fourth way is to avoid idleness. Hence, St. Jerome is cited as teaching Rusticus, “Do some kind
of work so that the devil will always find you occupied.” And the fifth way is to learn to endure
disturbances of the mind especially insults and affronts from members of one’s religious
community.
Considering external things, Aquinas believed gazing upon the opposite sex and frequent
conversations with them are the greatest temptations against chastity. Here it must be
acknowledged that the preventive measures he gives pose a problem. He refers to St. Jerome
who wrote against Vigilantius saying a monk who wishes to be chaste must avoid the sight of
women especially those that are young “for fear that the eye of a harlot captivate him and the
beauteous form incite him to unlawful embraces.” The problem with such a remedy is that it
seems to presuppose that the woman is the tempter, not the man. Moreover, fear of the sight of a
beautiful woman or a handsome man may prevent sins against chastity. But it can hardly form
mature celibates. A sane friendship, devoid of illicit sexual pleasure, is not only possible, it can
be helpful for the integral formation of the celibate.
This is not the place to get involved in the debate on the attitude of Aquinas to women.
But care must be taken not to give one-sided exhortations on chastity. It seems that was what
Aquinas did here, relying heavily on Jerome whose attitude to women and sex is, to say the least,
is in need of correctives. It is my contention that a positive appreciation of the beauty of
marriage and sex is required for a positive appreciation of and mature fidelity to chastity.
Obedience: Free Renunciation of Free Will11
According to Aquinas, “In order to attain to the perfection of charity it is necessary for
man not only to forsake external goods but also in some way to forsake himself” (De perfect., ch.
10). The challenge of obedience is to dare to allow oneself to be loved by God and to dare to
love God in return. In this exchange of love, there is what Pseudo-Dionysius, whom Aquinas
quotes, calls ecstasy. Divine love provokes ecstacy in the one who is loved who now steps
outside himself or herself. He or she is no longer fixed on the self but on that which is loved,
that is, God. The one who is in the ecstasy of obedience is able to follow the example of Paul
who says: “It is no longer I who live, it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).
Reading Pseudo-Dionysius with the aid of a paradox, Aquinas points out that obedience
is “salutary self-denial and charitable hatred of self”. Charitable self-hatred is one in which one
hates the self with a holy hatred because of God. Such a hatred is in imitation of divine love
whereby the lover is fixed not on self but on the beloved. It is necessary for the attainment of
perfection to love God to the point of freely renouncing free will. “Perfection requires that the
love of God prompt a man to abandon even what was lawful so that he may more freely give
himself to God.” Our Lord does not say we must do this against our will. That is why it is a
counsel and not a precept.
The most perfect fulfilment of the evangelical counsel of obedience is Christ’s free
acceptance of death on the cross which finds a perfect imitation in the martyrs who hated the
present life for the sake of Christ and his Gospel. Thus, for Aquinas,
Such self-denial is entirely perfect because for the love of God the martyrs forsook their own
lives, the lives for which men labor to acquire temporal things, the lives for which a person will
11
See also Summa theol., 186.5
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sacrifice everything else. For a man would prefer to lose all his wealth and friends and the health
of his being and even undergo slavery rather than lose his life (De perfect., ch. 10).
To freely renounce free will is to renounce something that is most precious to us. And so
Aquinas further states:
The more we naturally love something, the more perfect it is to sacrifice it for Christ. Now,
nothing is more loved by man than the freedom of his own will. For through his will a man is
master of others; through it he can use and enjoy things; and through it he is even master of his
own actions. Hence just as a man, when he forsakes riches or his loved ones, denies them; so
when he gives up the right to choose according to his own will through which he is master of
himself, he truly denies himself. Next to death there is nothing more naturally disagreeable to
man than servitude; indeed, next to dying for another, the greatest benefit that a person can
confer is to become his slave.
It is understandable when one subjects himself to God. But the evangelical counsel of
obedience is more than that because it involves subjecting oneself to others for the love of God.
Again, the chief example here is Christ whose obedience unto death healed the wounds that the
disobedience of Adam brought to humanity. Obedient unto death, subjecting his will to the
divine will, Christ serves as example to those he counsels to embrace a life of total submission to
God.
All that Aquinas has said on obedience prepares the way for placing it at the head of his
hierarchy of vows in De perfect., ch. 11:
Of the three vows that pertain to the religious state the chief is the vow of obedience. It is easy
to see why. First of all, the vow of obedience offers to God one’s will, whereas the vow of
chastity offers him a sacrifice of one’s body and the vow of poverty one of external things. Now,
just as one’s body is preferred to external goods, thus making the vow of chastity of more
account than the vow of poverty, so the vow of obedience is of more value than the other two.
Second, a man employs external good and his body in the service of his will. Consequently, to
give one’s will to God is to give all. No matter how you look at it, the vow of obedience is more
extensive than chastity and poverty; indeed, in a sense it includes them. Hence, Samuel prefers
obedience to all sacrifice, saying: “Obedience is better than sacrifice”12
An Attempt to Conclude
This attempt to conclude does not pretend to close the discussion. It only signifies the
beginning of a pause for further reflection.
We set out in this essay with two issues in mind: one is the issue of the perception of the
evangelical counsels as antithetical to the rational creature’s natural desire for ultimate felicity,
the other is the perception of the vows as disposable. It has been our aim, with St. Thomas
Aquinas as guide, to address these issues by proposing three theses: that all creatures naturally
desire God in their desire for their ultimate good; that this desire is fulfilled in the contemplation
of the face of God; and that the evangelical counsels do not hinder but facilitate the attainment of
this most profound desire of the human creature. This most profound desire finds an expression
12
See also Summa theol., II-II, 186.8
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in the religious life itself. It is a life, not of perfect people, but of those who strive for
perfection.13
The threefold renunciation that the evangelical counsels entail: temporal goods, bodily
pleasures and ties pertaining to marriage, and free will, must be situated within the context of the
theology of creation in the first two chapters of the book of Genesis. This will enable us to
realize that the renunciation does not mean these things are evil. These are God’s creatures.
They are good and they are to be loved. What the call to perfection demands by way of holy
hatred is conversion from idolatry to the perfect love of God, from inordinate love of creatures to
the undivided love of the Creator. The evangelical counsels challenge consecrated persons to
avoid the idolatry of power, sex and money. These three things are to be loved, for there is no
virtue in giving away what is hated or considered worthless. The wholehearted renunciation of
power, sex and money that the evangelical counsels involve must be authentic. But for the
authenticity to be attained, it would seem three conditions need to be met. The first condition is
the awareness of the goodness of the things we renounce; secondly, there must be a profound
gratitude to God for creating such beautiful things; and thirdly, the depth of this gratitude must
be such as to inspire the consecrated persons to embrace the evangelical counsels as a way of
offering what we renounce in thanksgiving to God who has created such beautiful things.
But to embrace poverty, chastity and obedience is not just to make a sacrifice of oneself.
It is to make a burnt sacrifice of oneself. For the life of the religious is more than a sacrifice. It
is a holocaust. As Aquinas puts it,
Every holocaust is a sacrifice, but not every sacrifice is a holocaust. For in a sacrifice only a part
of an animal is offered, but in a holocaust the entire animal is offered. When, therefore, anyone
vows something of his own to God and not vow something else of his own, it is a sacrifice. But
when he vows to Almighty God all that he has, all that he lives for, and all that is pleasurable, it
is a holocaust. Such a holocaust is offered through the three vows.14
Such a total offering of one’s life does not leave any room for the idea of a disposable vows. For
the offering of the whole person necessarily involves the offering of the totality of the persons’s
history, past, present, and future. And if the Church allows a period of temporary vows, it is not
because she wants the vows to be disposed off after a period of time but because she, like a good
pedagogue, would like the candidate to use the time of temporary vows to learn to live the vows
and to discern with the religious community and the Church whether or not there is an authentic
vocation.
The way of the vows is certainly the way of the cross. But the paradox of Christian
fulfilment is that the way of the cross is the way of life. It is at the foot of the cross, or rather, on
the cross itself, that the evangelical counsels are seen for what they are: not obstacles to the
fulfilment of our natural desire for fulness of life but, and that is where the paradox lies,
pathways to the attainment of the fulness of life in God. The vows are not against nature is so far
as they facilitate nature’s quest for its fulfilment in union with the supernatural. Only one who
understands how and why Bad Friday became Good Friday can understand this.
13
Cf. Summa theol., II-II, 186.1.
14
De perfect., ch. 11. See also Summa theol., 186.1.
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The human thirst for infinite goodness, being and truth is natural. Every human act aims
at the divine goodness which is the ultimate felicity of human life. But the ultimate felicity that is
naturally desired cannot be attained naturally. Its attainment requires the intervention of the
sublating quality called grace. That which is naturally desired is a supernatural end, beyond the
reach of the creature’s natural faculties. Consequently, the human attainment of ultimate felicity
in divine goodness requires the intervention of divine goodness itself. God has made the creature
to naturally desire him by making the creature to naturally desire the good. But that which is
naturally desired can only be attained through supernatural means, the supernatural means here
being faith, hope and charity infused in us by grace.
This human quest for fulfillment is not undertaken in isolation but in friendship, that is, in
a network of relationships. True happiness is found in the fulfillment of the natural desire to see
God. But a truly happy life is a virtuous life, and a virtuous life is a truly happy life. A virtue,
which is the mean between excess and deficiency, is either acquired or infused. Natural virtues
are infused while theological virtues are infused. The possession of both acquired and infused
virtues necessitates friendship. Natural virtues are learnt and acquired in our human friendship.
Consequently, one cannot attain happiness without living in a network of relationships.
Moreover, grace builds on nature. And consequent to this is the fact that the absence of natural
virtues implies a fundamental lack of disposition to grace and a fundamental lack of disposition
to the reception of infused virtues. Since grace is not meant to replace nature but to ennoble and
empower it, and since, correspondingly, the infused virtues are not meant to replace acquired
virtues but to elevate them, the very absence of natural virtues would render the human creature
indisposed to the reception of the theological virtues of faith, hope and charity.
It must be pointed out that just as the natural virtues are unthinkable without friendship,
the infused virtues would not be possible if God were not to invite the human creature to
friendship with him. God uses the infused virtues not only to invite us into friendship with him,
but also to sustain the friendship with him in times when we are tempted to prioritize friendship
with creatures over friendship with the Creator. In the final analysis, the human creature lives a
harmonious and happy life when he or she possesses acquired and infused virtues; the human
creature is possessor of acquired and infused virtues thanks to friendship with God and with one
another. Now, if the good of the human creature, which is harmonious and felicitous existence
in God, depends on his or her possession of acquired and infused virtues, and if his or her
possession of acquired and infused virtues is within the orbit of friendship with God and with
one another; then the ultimate end of human life is attained in communion with God and with
one another, a communion which begins now, preparatory to its final manifestation in the
heavenly Jerusalem.
The visible sign of this communion is the religious community where, some might say of
all places, happiness is found in a prayerful, responsible, intelligent and reasonable experience of
meeting, knowing, understanding, sometimes misunderstanding, loving, and sometimes not
loving one another along the way of the cross. For, after all said and done, the religious
community is where we learn from each other the way of the vows, the way of the cross, and the
way to ultimate happiness in God.