By Henry Aloysius Barry
Therefore the Holy Ghost comprehends God; but to do this is the exclusive property of Godhead; it is God's and God's alone. David says, "in thy light we shall see light." Even in heaven with the brilliant light of the very divine Presence that enlarges and intensifies the vision of the elect, we will not come to comprehend God as He comprehends Himself in the enchanting vastness, in the supreme totality of His divinity, for Godhead will have always its fastnesses, as it were, its by-ways, its unclimbable heights, its own towering, mysterious incomprehensible self. The Council of Florence says that the blessed "see God clearly, as He is; in nature one, in persons three." True, but the iron steeped in the furnace's glow retains its own nature; the saint never becomes God, though he be ever so Godlike. It will not be, perhaps, so much the lack of light, nay, rather is it the lack of capacitated eyes that disables the saints. "In Thy light we shall see"—We shall see. Surely we are not God; aye, through created eyes alone must we survey and enjoy the all-surpassing loveliness of eternal life. Even with the spectacles of faith adjusted and tempered to the new light, a margin survives, a gap, a chasm— creature is creature. There is, and can only be, one God. How this reflection confuses us! It is not pleasant, in our case, to study our own pettiness and to descant on one's own disabilities. Mounting the ladder of science, Dame Reason should ascend with caution, for Faith ever should guide her ladyship's steps by her infallible guidance and true unerring leadership.
Awe, self-distrust, humility, must qualify our speculations. For impudent, staffless mountain climbers I catch the voice of warning from the summit — descends! To faith with staff and guide the voice comes stealing softly — ascende superius!
The study of the Heart of God without faith or a proper disposition and a pure incentive has turned out a host of sceptical divines with a large multitude of disciples sprawling in the slough of despond, heresy, unfaith and materialism. With all the pride of ages in the result of centuries spent in research and myriads of earth's best minds absorbed in the task, the most we can make of ourselves is clay men— sublime animals, beautiful, if you will have it so, wondrous—as saints, but ever and forever, creatures!
Shown the retrospective we see the valiant witnesses of the divinity of the Holy Ghost. Creatures could not make themselves God, they could not make God a creature. The earliest ages sustained the divinity of the Holy Ghost and commended its belief in symbol. "Thou hast gone down," says St. Ambrose alluding to the baptismal fount, "recall what thou hast replied: 'namely, that thou believest in the Father, believest in the Son, and believest in the Holy Ghost. Thou foundedst not; I believe in a greater or lesser or least, but art compelled to be most cautious in thy language, to believe alike in the Son as in the Father, to believe alike in the Holy Ghost as in the Son." (De myster. C. V. N. 28.
Therefore the Holy Ghost comprehends God; but to do this is the exclusive property of Godhead; it is God's and God's alone. David says, "in thy light we shall see light." Even in heaven with the brilliant light of the very divine Presence that enlarges and intensifies the vision of the elect, we will not come to comprehend God as He comprehends Himself in the enchanting vastness, in the supreme totality of His divinity, for Godhead will have always its fastnesses, as it were, its by-ways, its unclimbable heights, its own towering, mysterious incomprehensible self. The Council of Florence says that the blessed "see God clearly, as He is; in nature one, in persons three." True, but the iron steeped in the furnace's glow retains its own nature; the saint never becomes God, though he be ever so Godlike. It will not be, perhaps, so much the lack of light, nay, rather is it the lack of capacitated eyes that disables the saints. "In Thy light we shall see"—We shall see. Surely we are not God; aye, through created eyes alone must we survey and enjoy the all-surpassing loveliness of eternal life. Even with the spectacles of faith adjusted and tempered to the new light, a margin survives, a gap, a chasm— creature is creature. There is, and can only be, one God. How this reflection confuses us! It is not pleasant, in our case, to study our own pettiness and to descant on one's own disabilities. Mounting the ladder of science, Dame Reason should ascend with caution, for Faith ever should guide her ladyship's steps by her infallible guidance and true unerring leadership.
Awe, self-distrust, humility, must qualify our speculations. For impudent, staffless mountain climbers I catch the voice of warning from the summit — descends! To faith with staff and guide the voice comes stealing softly — ascende superius!
The study of the Heart of God without faith or a proper disposition and a pure incentive has turned out a host of sceptical divines with a large multitude of disciples sprawling in the slough of despond, heresy, unfaith and materialism. With all the pride of ages in the result of centuries spent in research and myriads of earth's best minds absorbed in the task, the most we can make of ourselves is clay men— sublime animals, beautiful, if you will have it so, wondrous—as saints, but ever and forever, creatures!
Shown the retrospective we see the valiant witnesses of the divinity of the Holy Ghost. Creatures could not make themselves God, they could not make God a creature. The earliest ages sustained the divinity of the Holy Ghost and commended its belief in symbol. "Thou hast gone down," says St. Ambrose alluding to the baptismal fount, "recall what thou hast replied: 'namely, that thou believest in the Father, believest in the Son, and believest in the Holy Ghost. Thou foundedst not; I believe in a greater or lesser or least, but art compelled to be most cautious in thy language, to believe alike in the Son as in the Father, to believe alike in the Holy Ghost as in the Son." (De myster. C. V. N. 28.
