Salesian Literature

Chapter 14:  The impression of charity received by faith

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By his gift of faith God comes into our souls, talks to our minds.  He speaks, not by words, but by inspirations.  So attractively does he set the truths of faith before our minds, our wills are generally gratified – to such an extent that the will urges the intellect to assent, to submit to the truth undoubtingly, in utter trustfulness.

 

There you have the wonder of it:  God proposes these truths to our minds in darkness, in obscurity; we cannot clearly see them, we can only catch glimpses of them.  The same sort of thing happens sometimes in the world around us when it is misty.  We cannot see the sun, only a faint lightening of the sky shows where it is.  We catch sight of it without seeing it, you might say; we don’t see the sun well enough to say that we really do see it, yet we see enough to make it impossible for us to say that we cannot see it and all.  We caught a glimpse of it, we say.

 

Once this divine brightness of faith dawns upon the mind, it compels the obedience of the intellect without any force of reasoning or show of argument, simply by the charm of its presence.  So authoritatively does it compel belief, it gives us a certitude of truth which far exceeds any certitude on earth.  It shows itself so superior to intellect or reasoning, their authority pales by comparison.

 

Theological reasoning and arguments, miracles, and other signs, undoubtedly point to the credibility of the Christian religion, to its discernibility; yet faith alone is responsible for belief, for acceptance.  Faith fills a man with love for the beauty of its truth, with faith in the truth of its beauty, through the charm it uses on the will, the certitude it gives to the intellect.

 

Although the Jews saw our Lord’s miracles and heard his wonderful teaching, they were not disposed to accept the gift of faith (cf. Jn. 9:41).  Their wills, I mean, were not susceptible to faith’s gentle charm.  A prey to bitterness and malice, they would not open to faith.  Such men saw the force of argument, but found the conclusion unsuited to their taste; so they would not assent to the truth of it.

 

However, the act of faith consists in that assent given by the mind as it opens to the welcome light of truth, clings to it by means of a positive assurance and certitude, at once strong and gentle, which it derives from the authority underlying what has been revealed.

 

What it amounts to is this: the certitude which the human mind discovers in revealed truth, in the mysteries of faith, has its beginning in a loving impression of gratification which the will finds in the beauty and charm of the truth proposed to it.  In other words, faith includes an embryonic love, as the human heart knows its first thrill for the things of God.

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A TREATISE ON THE LOVE OF GOD

BOOK 2: 

Charity comes to Life