Sunday, June 28, 2020

Aquinas' Commentary on Romans


Dear Friends and Family,

I hope this email finds you well. Here, it is a beautiful sunny day. After much rain the past month summer seems to have fully arrived in Tuscany. In a little bit, I plan to go for a fun up the mountain.

Among the many blessings of this past week, I spent a good deal of time studying St. Thomas Aquinas' commentary on the Letter to the Romans. Though the following may be a bit theoretical, I thought some of you might like to know a little of what I'm studying.

Part of the licentiate paper that I am working on, for the STL in Toulouse, involves this commentary, which has many interesting points. I thought I would share one with you. In chapter 7 of St. Paul's letter to the Romans there is his famous description of an interior struggle:

We know that the law is spiritual; but I am carnal, sold under sin. 15 I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. 17 So then it is no longer I that do it, but sin which dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin which dwells within me. 
21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God, in my inmost self, 23 but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin which dwells in my members.

Many commentators have asked: Is St. Paul describing the situation of a man before conversion, of someone not in a state of grace? Or is he describing someone in a state of grace, even himself, who has these struggles? St. Thomas spends about 40 pages analyzing this, so I'll only be able to share here a tiny bit of what he says.

He analyzes each line by giving both possible interpretations and showing what each would mean, but he says that the better interpretation is that St. Paul is speaking of someone in a state of grace.

In that case, Aquinas holds that the "I do the very thing I hate... the evil I do not want is what I do. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin which dwells in me"--that such phrases refer to the involuntary movements of what is called the sensitive appetite, i.e. the consequences of original sin that include disordered desires that spring up in the soul. He speaks of someone in a state of grace--say, St. Paul--who does not consent to these desires. In his actions, both exterior and interior, he acts according to what is right and just, according to what is God's will. Nonetheless, there is a part of him that acts in the opposite manner, interiorly, through such interior movements. Aquinas describes, therefore, someone who never gives in to sin and yet for whom these words hold true. But his analysis can also be used to show what--for most of us on most days--is the case: that we at times do commit sins, even if venial ones. In that case, the part of his analysis which applies to the man in mortal sin could be applied to the venial sins.

For the sinner, Aquinas writes that the sinner is still said to want the reasonable good in the sense of the “incomplete willing by which men want the good in general, just as they have a correct judgment about the good in general; yet this judgment is perverted by a bad habit or a perverse passion with the result that the will… does not do what it knows in a general way should be done and would want to do." In other words, man's reason and judgment allow themselves to be more and more drawn in the direction of what is being proposed by the sensitive appetite, by desires that go contrary to what is right and just, and so the man's reason becomes distorted and he convinces himself that the reasons in favor of doing the sinful action are actually the more important ones, that this is really the reasonable thing to do. In this sense he does not what "in a general way," or deep down, he knows to be right, what deep down his soul truly wants. 

Well, that is probably enough theology to have put many of you to sleep, so I'll stop there.

Blessed Feast of Sts. Peter and Paul tomorrow! I will be praying for you in the Holy 
Sacrifice of the Mass.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari


Sunday, June 21, 2020

Mountaintop View



Dear Friends and Family,

Blessed Father's day! Thank you, Dad, for being such a great father to me.

Above is the beautiful view that I am blessed to have a few times a week when I go jogging. I finally carried my phone on the run Friday to take some pictures for you. There is something so uplifting about looking out from a mountain top, gazing at neighboring mountains across the horizon, looking down into the valleys. Perhaps it is because it makes me think of God's perspective looking down on the world, and helps me realize how limited my own perspective is. I'm not sure the reasons, but it is a really beautiful view that I always find refreshing.

This morning I had the blessing of celebrating Mass for a couple's 23rd wedding anniversary--members of the family I'm staying with. Wedding anniversaries are truly worth celebrating today, when it is more difficult than ever for spouses to sacrifice themselves faithfully, day after day, for their spouse and children.

Another of the many blessings of this past week occurred yesterday. I received a note from a mother in Pakistan who has been joining in the Our Lady of Fatima Worldwide Rosary Crusade that I've been leading online. She wrote that she had been unable to pray with us for about 12 days due to an illness, but that her three teenage children had nonetheless continued to pray the rosary daily, along with other prayers. It is good to hear of three teenage children maintaining that level of fidelity to prayer without their mother, and a privilege to be able to pray with them via the online rosary. When I read a bit about Pakistan online, I felt even more honored.

Catholics make up less than 1% of the population, which is about 95% Muslim. Persecution and marginalization have been, and are, very real realities for Catholics in Pakistan. As one of the Pakistani Bishops said in an interview, forgiveness of those who persecute you is something very real for them, something they need to put into practice often. It is also a young part of the Church, with many children. It was a real joy to know that I could be present to a family like that, from all the way in Italy, and could assist in some small way by praying the rosary with them each day.

May God grant us, and Catholics all over the world, the graces of joy, peace, and courage, so that we might be prepared to face whatever God may ask of us in this coming year.

And to all fathers reading this, happy Father's Day!

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari

Sunday, June 14, 2020

The Blessing of Lectio Divina

Mountain top I hope to run to in a little while.

Dear Friends and Family,

It is a cool Sunday afternoon here in Tuscany, perhaps mid-60's, which is beautiful weather. We had a strong rainstorm last night, which was pretty to watch from a little porch. This morning has been a typical Sunday morning. After morning prayers in the chapel, I spent time practising the pronunciation for my Italian sermon. This takes a while--up to an hour of repetition if I want to get close to a smooth Italian delivery--but it is also good practice for my Italian in general.

After that, I headed to the chapel for 30 minutes of prayer in preparation for the Mass, took about 30 minutes after Mass for prayer, and then headed to lunch. While some of the finer points of Italian grammar are still a work in process, I'm getting closer and lunch conversations are becoming easier.

Yesterday, on the Feast of St. Anthony of Padua, I felt drawn to a renewed focus on the practice of lectio divina--the "divine reading" which is the expression classically used for reading the Bible prayerfully and trying to listen to what God wishes to teach us. I enjoyed yesterday re-reading the very beginning of the Gospel according to St. Matthew, reflecting on St. Joseph's hidden role and on other more hidden points of the first two chapters. For example, I wondered what became of the scribes and chief priests consulted by Herod.

Both they and all of Jerusalem were aware that the wise men came from the East seeking the newborn Messiah. And they were aware that it was prophesied, in Micah, that he would be born in Bethlehem and that Herod subsequently tried to kill him in the slaughter. Did some of them go seek out the Messiah before the slaughter? Did any of them later recognize the Lord when His public life began? Did they reproach Herod for what he had done?

I hope to start, little by little, committing some of the Gospel to memory each day--at least enough to think about it throughout the day. I've found in the past that this gives strength, peace, light, and hope.  On that note, I am now due to head to the chapel for my daily time of lectio divina so I will sign off here.

May Jesus be your strength and peace, and may Our Lady be your guide.

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari


Sunday, June 7, 2020

Florence's Famous Museums

One of the most famous piazzas and churches in Florence: Piazza Santa Maria Novella.

The same piazza looking the other direction.

The facade of the Duomo (Florence's famous cathedral).
Dear Friends and Family,

I pray that this email finds each of you well in the midst of the challenging situations our world and the Church are still living. My heart goes out in a particular way to those in the US right now.

I was blessed with a very unique opportunity this past Thursday: the opportunity to have almost private tours of Florence's two most famous art museums--perhaps the most famous, alongside the Louvre in Paris, art museums in the world: The Accademia and the Uffizzi.

I had almost private tours of each because they reopened on Wednesday but, due to the severe travel restrictions, almost no one was there! Normally, you would have huge crowds of people filing into each and would perhaps have a few moments before the most famous pieces of art, trying to peer around people and get at least a glimpse from up close. Whereas Thursday I was able to take as much time as I wished to contemplate the works of sacred heart, sit and pray in front of them, walk up close and examine details, walk around the statues, etc. You can find photos of the famous works in each online, but to give you an idea of how truly private it was, look at the photo below.

This photo is taken from right below the famous statue of David by Michaelangelo. It is in the most important hall of the Accademia and stands an imposing height that fills the main space: it's perhaps 20 feet tall. You can see below how many people were there...

Empty main hall (except for a few guards) of the Accademia.

It was amazing to see Michaelangelo's unfished sculptures (in the background along the wall), and see the marks made with his chisel, and then to look at the amazingly smooth David. Truly amazing that he was able to do this out of a single block of marble, and at just 26 years old. But more interesting were the many altarpieces and works of sacred art. At the Uffizi I had the blessing of being guided around by a member of my host family who is an expert in Renaissance art. She carefully explained to me the development of sacred art from Cimabue to Giotto, to later masters such as Michaelangelo, Rafael, DaVinci, and lesser-known names but ones whose art is quite beautiful. It was an amazing few hours.

Though masks and rubber gloves in the museum were obligatory (rubber gloves only at the Accademia), it was well worth such small sacrifices in order to have a once in a lifetime "private tour" of each museum. One of many blessings of the past week. This coming week's main work will be Italian grammar and some research for a theology paper.

You are in my prayers!

In Cordibus Iesu et Mariae,
Fr. Pillari