Tuesday, October 22, 2013

On Monotony

On my way to work this morning, I started wondering out of the blue what is the point to days where nothing seems to really happen? (What can I say... it was raining and cold, perfect for introspection.) You know the days I mean... days that just seem to go by where you don't have an important conversation with a friend or you don't feel the light of God's presence in some significant way or you don't accomplish something important at work. I really wondered what the point of days like that are. In the grand story of my life or the grand story of God's plan for the world, what are the point of 24 hours that go by where things just seem... monotonous.

I suppose it should come as no surprise to me that I saw this on Facebook today:




This would absolutely not be the first time that Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen has spoken to me directly. I smiled to myself when I saw this post because I thought -- he's still watching. For whatever reason God is allowing him to watch over me. I really believe that one day, God willing, I will make it to Heaven and there he'll be, Archbishop (Saint) Sheen. And I will hug him and tell him thank you and I love you. And he'll say you're welcome and I love you too.


St. John tells us that if he recorded all the miracles Our Blessed Lord had worked, the world would not be large enough to contain the books thereof.  There was only one time in His life that He ever cursed a thing, and that was the day He saw the barren fig-tree which was not producing its fruit in due season, and therefore was not enjoying the thrill of monotony.  There is necessarily bound to be a thrill in working toward any goal or fixed purpose, and therein is the final reason for the romance of repetition.  There, too, is the line of division between genuine Christianity and modern paganism.  The Christian finds a thrill in repetition because he has a fixed goal; the modern pagan finds repetition monotonous because he never decided for himself the purpose of living.  Instead of passing the test, the modern mind changes the test;  instead of working toward an ideal, it changes the ideal;  it is not marvel that existence is drab, if one has never discussed the reason for existence.    How dull, for example, golf would be if there were never a green; how monotonous would be a sea voyage, if there were never a port; or a journey if there were never a destination.  Since the modern mind has never decided the goal of life, nor the purpose of living, nor the reason of existing, but like a weathercock has changed with every wind of doctrine and suggestion, it is necessarily bound to find life dull, drab, and monotonous.” 


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