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The middle classes of holiness

Holiness is presented as a bush fireproof, impossible not only for us but even for anyone living in our circumstances

Joseph Malega-that great Christian novelist in Spain has not even been translated-left half-written a novel whose title was the same as I have made this article. And she said by the few fragments that are known, developed an idea already repeatedly pointed out in his earlier works: that the further development of religious phenomena to be explored not only the soul of the great saints, saints of first the aristocrats of holiness, but "also had modest souls, had also the middle classes of holiness." And this is a distinction, as well as false and terribly daunting. We think, as I will never have the courage to be a Francis of Assisi, we will limit ourselves to meet God and to expect the final goal in heaven by the back door. Holiness is presented as a bush fire-proof, impossible not only for ourselves but also for anyone living in our circumstances. We also believe to make matters worse, the Saints perform miracles and we already have enough to do sins. The solution is the siesta.

True enough. Because maybe we are too used to draw a distinction between holiness net too and mediocrity. On one side would be those ten dozen titans of spirit that took the gospel where more burned and made a life incandescent. The other would be us who vegetate in Christianity.

But if you open up your eyes more carefully, we see that in addition to the saints of the world first there is some holy enough for second and third. That good people who love God, those people who, when for us to be with them, give us almost physical sense of the living presence of God, simple souls, but delivered; normal, but very faithful. Middle classes of genuine holiness. Who
more, some less, all found in the world two or three dozen souls as well. And we were happy to be at his side. And we thought that with a little more effort, to us may seem a little them. And feel that these people hold our faith and, ultimately, in its simplicity, is one of the great signs of the presence of God in the Church.

I have known many of these saints of the third or second, starting with my parents, who are not canonized. Even I would imagine them laugh a little with an earring around the head and they would be very red if someone is placed. But nevertheless, I found so true soul, that I have ever seen them reflected what I like about God, his humility.

I think this little discussion. And yet, I think he is right
Moeller when he writes that "the center of Christianity is the mystery of this humility of God. "
is true: in the catechism we talked a lot of Almighty God and sometimes we imagine a God proud, studded with gems, while acting through miracles and speaking with a ringing voice. But the reality is that when God became visible, all was humble and simple. It was simply a man whom his enemies could take out terrible slap no lightning in the sky. A God who is humble in his revelation, made through texts also humble, hard to interpret, subject to distortions, much less clear that a mathematician would write a perfectionist.

A humble God in his Church, which not built as a perfect elite, but as a helpless wife and a thousand times wrong, stammering and armed with a modest grave, and a few pebbles against the Goliath of the world. Humble also in the land they chose to be born in Palestine and that is a marvel of physical beauty and a haven of order, a kind of Switzerland of the spirit.

"The Lord of glory," writes Moeller also did not wish or power or anything, not the thunder and the silence of the abyss, as the tyrannical power of the dark anything are the opposite of love.
Love wants the sweet humble and free, is not defended, it offers advance for your neck to the executioners, however, is more powerful that death and a thousand streams of water may not extinguish the fire of love. Love will, of life, the sweet life, love gives life and no nothing . "
So this God will humble you very humble and small saints, the saints of aprobadillo. And it is fortunate that we can not discourage those who have a love of fire (or match!) And never reach your love of the volcano.

Even the way to God is very well done. It's like a mountain that you have to climb. And it has two paths: one goat, which goes straight from the skirt to the top, steep, very hard, very steep, and a highway, which climbs well, but in zig-zag round and round in a spiral to the summit.
saints, real saints, the goats climb, leaving the skin at the corners of the rocks. They give everything at once, hourly live in the tension of perfect love.
But others tremble at this path. Not because we do not have lungs for it, because the Saints did not have the best "wood" to us, but because we are cowards and we love God pieces, stored in the wallet, good pieces of pride.

course, to whom God gives the courage of the goat track that St. Peter bless and multiply. But ultimately, what matters is up, you need is love, even with a love stuttering. And so, blessed be the cart road.

With the advantage, moreover, that at every turn, the wagon road crosses a time with the goat, are those moments of true holiness to all, fortunately, we have. There are even times when-especially youth-we dare to do some distance along the path of goats, but laziness and then return back to take the spiral path. Well, the important thing is to keep going, keep loving, even if done wrong.

What we must not forget is that at the end of the climb, when one is already near the top, the two roads, the road and the goats, they disappear. And then only is the rock. Why only you can climb with a guide. 0 carried in her arms. As God will lead us all in the last Repechón hug leads to death.