“But this kind never comes out except by prayer and fasting” (Mt 17:21).
I remember, some years ago as a young child, sitting with my family and a few nuns at a Benedictine priory in a sitting room front lined by shelves of spiritual books. The adults discussed one particular book on the Desert Fathers and Mothers. As a nun explained the centrality of fasting in the spiritual lives of these early ascetics, I thought to myself, “Not eating? Easy! I bet I could fast for days,” all while reaching for yet another cookie from the tray on the coffee table.
Most Catholics are familiar with fasting in theory, if not in practice. We customarily choose something to “give up” for Lent, and some continue the traditional Friday abstinence from meat throughout the year. However, beyond either Lenten penances or fasting in general, many Catholics are likely unfamiliar with mortification in general, and they may even shy away from such “unduly harsh” practices.
Indeed, mortification seems absurd without reference to our personal call to sainthood. Lay and religious alike, we are all called to know, love, and serve God, and to share in His everlasting happiness in heaven. We can only achieve these ends through God’s grace, and we can only cooperate with His grace through sacrifice. Christ commands us, “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). Christ’s sacrifices were numerous, from humbling Himself in His humanity, to fasting for forty days in the desert, and to the pinnacle of His passion and death. Christ, who is perfectus Deus et perfectus homo, embodies perfect sacrificial love.
As such, mortification is the denial, and, ultimately, the death of our individual preferences as means to unify our will with God. It is through this that we take up our cross daily, as described by St. Paul when he writes, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me . . .” (Gal 2:20). Mortification unifies ourselves with God on earth so we may unify ourselves with Him in heaven. In its essence, mortification is the love of God and His will.
However, we must distinguish this spiritual mortification from purely secular methods of self-denial. While often commendable insofar as it directs itself towards self-mastery and natural virtues, such as fortitude and temperance, the mortification exhibited by athletes and stoics lacks the supernatural fulfillment of spiritual mortification directed towards the glory of God. We unify ourselves with God through the desire enacted in the denial rather than in the difficulty of the denial itself.
There are two kinds of mortification: passive and active. Passive mortification is the response to involuntary difficulties. We can offer up the pain of illness, discomfort of waiting in a line, and all other pinpricks in daily life, both large and small. Active mortifications are those difficulties we voluntarily bring upon ourselves, such as fasting and maintenance of proper posture during class. Both types of mortification achieve the same end, and they are both necessary.
Further, one must recognize the variation in scale mortification. I once laughed in misunderstanding when a priest referred to eating a cookie as mortification in lieu of his favorite dessert, ice cream, because I incorrectly thought mortifications required particular intensity and austerity. As long as the practice truly entails sacrifice and challenge, it need not be grand. In fact, one ought to consult a prudent spiritual director before undertaking harsh penitential practices. As exhibited in the lives of the saints (such as Pope St. John Paul II), some are called to comparatively more intense mortifications, such use of the discipline (a small rope whip) and cilice (a small metal chain with little points worn around the thigh), while others are not. The median of mortification depends on the individual.
As a resolution stemming from this exposition of self-denial in search of holiness, I urge the reader to consider adopting a particular mortification St. Josemaría Escrivá called “the heroic minute.” In The Way he writes:
The heroic minute. It is the time fixed for getting up. Without hesitation: a supernatural reflection and… up! The heroic minute: here you have a mortification that strengthens your will and does no harm to your body (Point 206).
By rising the moment one’s alarm sounds, without succumbing to the temptation to steal extreme moments of pleasure through the snooze button, one can offer their very first waking moment to God in thanksgiving for the day. We can all say “yes!” to the challenges God presents in the day.
Ultimately, we must remember this process of pain leads to the ultimate joy of unity with our all-loving God. St. Francis de Sales writes, “During this mortal life we must choose eternal love or eternal death, there is no middle choice.” Mortification offers the path of eternal love, and, sometimes, it presents itself as simply choosing cookies over ice cream, or even choosing fasting over the cookies on the coffee table.
Featured image courtesy of Web of Gallery Art via WikiMedia
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