Back
in May, the Catholic Thought Book Club read The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis This and subsequent posts are my end of the
conversation and constitute my thoughts.
The book is divided into four parts each called a “Book.” I did not make any comments on the last
book.
This is my second reading of this famous work. Back in April of 2014 I posted on my first read.
As
a short introduction, The Imitation of
Christ is a devotional book composed in the early 15th century
by a group of German/Dutch Augustinian monks, of which Thomas à Kempis is
one. The book is usually attributed to à
Kempis, but more than one monk had a hand in the writing. It was written prior to the Protestant
Reformation and the book is the most widely read Christian devotional other
than the Bible.
I'm
using the Dover Thrift Edition which I must have bought a number of years ago
for a dollar or two. The translators are Croft and Bolton. You can find this edition online, here
From
Book 1, "Thoughts Helpful in the Life of the Soul":
Comment
1:
Good
comments Nikita. You conveyed well. I echo your concerns. I'm going to wait a
little longer before I give some less favorable comments. I don't think you're
going to be alone in the criticism.
But
I agree, there are wonderful nuggets everywhere in the book.
One
of the fundamental questions in reading the book, and you touched on it, is who
is the author writing for? We in the general population read it today, and the
general population derives all sorts of spiritual wisdom from it. But it does
strike me the author's intent was toward a very specific readership. For
instance, take the second sentence in Book 1, Chapter 8:
"Do
not keep company with young people and strangers."
What
an odd recommendation. How can one actually observe that, or is it even wise to
do it? Obviously this could not be recommended for the general secular
population. It certainly could not be intended for priests either. It certainly
can't be intended for people who are to evangelize. I share your Dominican
ethos. I think this is a problematic book for we who want to engage the world.
Comment
2:
Yes,
Augustinian monks, which I don't know that much about. I'm trying to research
it as I take breaks from work...lol. Interestingly, Martin Luther was an
Augustinian monk.
Comment
3:
Chapter
16, “Bearing the Faults of Others” is absolutely perfect and one that hits home
for me. It’s just four paragraphs long. First, he a person bearing faults may
be there to test your patience. Correct them and then pray for them. Second, if
that person does not amend, one has to bear it patiently. God will eventually
turn that problem (a Kempis calls it an evil, but I think that might be too
harsh) into a good. Then he advises to bear patiently the faults of others
because you have faults too that others must endure. It reminds me of the
passage in Matthew where Christ says “"Why do you look at the speck that
is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?”
(Matt 7:3).
Then
in the third paragraph he comes to the heart of the problem.
“If you cannot make
yourself what you would wish to be, how can you bend others to your will? We
want them to be perfect, yet we do not correct our own faults. We wish them to
be severely corrected, yet we will not correct ourselves.”
The
question is of will, conforming your will to God’s and the impossibility of trying
to conform another person’s will.
Then
in the final paragraph a Kempis draws a more philosophical conclusion:
“If all were perfect,
what should we have to suffer from others for God's sake? But God has so
ordained, that we may learn to bear with one another's burdens, for there is no
man without fault, no man without burden, no man sufficient to himself nor wise
enough. Hence we must support one another, console one another, mutually help,
counsel, and advise, for the measure of every man's virtue is best revealed in
time of adversity -- adversity that does not weaken a man but rather shows what
he is.”
We
are here on earth to interact and love one another. These irritations are
actually here for a divine purpose.
Comment
4:
The
Eighteenth Chapter, “The Example Set Us By The Holy Fathers” is so beautifully
written I want to quote the first three paragraphs, which almost the entire
chapter.
Consider the lively
examples set us by the saints, who possessed the light of true perfection and
religion, and you will see how little, how nearly nothing, we do. What, alas,
is our life, compared with theirs? The saints and friends of Christ served the
Lord in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, in work and fatigue, in
vigils and fasts, in prayers and holy meditations, in persecutions and many
afflictions. How many and severe were the trials they suffered -- the Apostles,
martyrs, confessors, virgins, and all the rest who willed to follow in the
footsteps of Christ! They hated their lives on earth that they might have life
in eternity.
How strict and detached
were the lives the holy hermits led in the desert! What long and grave
temptations they suffered! How often were they beset by the enemy! What
frequent and ardent prayers they offered to God! What rigorous fasts they
observed! How great their zeal and their love for spiritual perfection! How
brave the fight they waged to master their evil habits! What pure and
straightforward purpose they showed toward God! By day they labored and by
night they spent themselves in long prayers. Even at work they did not cease
from mental prayer. They used all their time profitably; every hour seemed too
short for serving God, and in the great sweetness of contemplation, they forgot
even their bodily needs.
They renounced all
riches, dignities, honors, friends, and associates. They desired nothing of the
world. They scarcely allowed themselves the necessities of life, and the
service of the body, even when necessary, was irksome to them. They were poor
in earthly things but rich in grace and virtue. Outwardly destitute, inwardly
they were full of grace and divine consolation. Strangers to the world, they
were close and intimate friends of God. To themselves they seemed as nothing,
and they were despised by the world, but in the eyes of God they were precious
and beloved. They lived in true humility and simple obedience; they walked in
charity and patience, making progress daily on the pathway of spiritual life
and obtaining great favor with God.
One
of the strengths of the Kempis’ work is the beautiful prose. Look at how rhythmic is that first
paragraph. “The saints and friends of
Christ served the Lord in hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness, in work and
fatigue, in vigils and fasts, in prayers and holy meditations, in persecutions
and many afflictions.” Listing always
makes for wonderful prose, but listing in doublets creates a wonderful see saw
rhythm: saints and friends, hunger and thirst, cold and nakedness, and so
on. And he continues it on in the
following paragraphs: strict and detached, long and grave, pure and
straightforward, precious and beloved, humility and simple, charity and
patience. It really creates a unified
prose.
As
to the content of theme of this chapter, it provides a connection to earliest followers
of Christ and those that followed his example best. We call them saints but really they are
imitators of Christ. But à Kempis
selects the most ascetic elements of saintliness to idealize. The value he highlights is “renouncing”
things of the body or perhaps better stated, things that do not gratify the
body. He even mentions the desert
fathers by name as the models to emulate, those that may have been the most
ascetic of saints.
But
I do think one sentence is telling of à Kempis’s inclinations, and I have to
say while the advice throughout is sound, this one sentence takes thigs too
far. It’s the last sentence of that
first paragraph: “They hated their lives on earth that they might have life in
eternity.”
Is
that really what we’re supposed to do, hate our lives on earth? I just got finished reading Dante and he
glorifies the body. Certainly not
glorifying it at the expense of sin, but in concert with goodness. Dante makes the point in heaven we will
eventually be rejoined with our bodies, and that is the ultimate
glorification. Our bodies are good
things in themselves. Yes, we are
supposed to tame our urges, but be repulsed by our physical nature. I don’t think we’re supposed to “hate” our
lives on earth. If this asceticism is
adhered to in despising our lives, then we are acting in opposition to the
Creator who created us in love.
Finally
I’m reminded of a wonderful quote by St. Catherine of Siena, who was known to
perform such extreme mortifications herself.
Her quote is, “Every step on the way to heaven is heaven.” For Catherine, there is joy in her asceticism. I never sense that joy in à Kempis.
Comment
5:
I
think to answer some of the questions brought up, we should look at the
historical context the work was written.
The actual dates The Imitation of
Christ was composed are from 1418-1427.
This is the late middle ages and already a number of social pressures
are causing the nature of society to change.
While the plague that came to be called The Black Death had peaked about
fifty years before in Europe, taking over a third to half of the population, it
still resurged every so often. More
importantly it had left its cultural stamp in the European consciousness. Some of the cultural changes were a more
cynical outlook, a loss of faith, and those that maintained faith emphasized
the importance of the spiritual over the physical. Ideally in Christianity (and in Judaism, I
suppose as well) there is a balance between the spiritual and the
physical. Remember we are to regain our
bodies at the end of time, so there is nothing per se wrong with our physical
beings. But in the second century there
grew the gnostic heresy which uncompromisingly maintained that the physical was
evil and the spiritual was good. While
the gnostic heresy was eventually stamped out, this type of heresy returns to
varying degrees, rebounding and retreating, many times in western culture. Because of the horrid physical nature of the
Black Plague’s disease, European culture at the end of the Middle Ages were in
a period of rejection of the physical.
The Protestant Reformation, which would come in a few generations, I
think picked up on this and carried it into the modern world.
The
other great historical event that had been going on the previous fifty years
was the Great Schism in the Catholic Church.
From 1378 to 1417 the Church was in a severe crises where at first two men
claimed the legal right to be Pope, and Europe divided herself over loyalty to
one of these “Popes.” And still at
another point in that span of time a third man claimed as having the legitimate
claim to the papacy. Yes it reached a
point of three factions were fighting over the head of the church. You’ll have to read the disgraceful details
because it gets complicated, but the effect on the general population was a
loss faith in the church and further cynicism for institutions as a whole. It really set the stage for the Protestant
Reformation. Add famine, wars, and
political in-fighting, and you can see the times not conducive to harmony. It’s in this context that Machiavelli writes
his political works.
The
writers of The Imitation of Christ
also had a reaction to the times around them, but instead of the Machiavellian
reaction, à Kempis and company had a different sort of reaction. Many of you may have heard of Rod Dreher’s
Benedict Option as a strategy for Christians to retreat from the toxic culture
of the 21st century. The Imitation of Christ is the 15th
century version of the Benedictine Option.
It’s a retreat from the chaos of the late middle ages. Our views of the Middle ages are skewed by
the struggles to eke out a life in the period from the collapse of Rome to
about 1000 and this chaos of the late middle ages I’ve described above. But the High Middle Ages (1000 to 1300) were
actually a period where European civilization flourished and prospered. à Kempis and company were looking back to a
better time, a time where monasteries provided stability.
But
monasteries had been declining by the end of the Middle Ages. The Franciscans and Dominicans had been
pulling the religious out into the culture, not separating itself away. The writers of The Imitation of Christ may have looked at this as part of the
problem. And so, given the chaos and the
cynicism of the times, they called for a monastic resurgence to withdraw from
the culture. But along with it, they
brought with them the semi-gnostic emphasis of the spiritual over the physical. They now saw the physical as part of the
problem of its contemporary times.
Christ is just as much physical in the Gospels as spiritual. Everyone reads the Gospels with their own
biases. I think à Kempis and company
brought their spiritual biases as to what aspect of Christ’s life we are to
imitate.
Now
this is all my perception, and I’m no historical scholar, so take it with a
grain of salt. But if you think I’m off
in any of this, speak up. I’m open for
discussion. But surely the historical
context of which these writers were generating these thoughts had to have some
bearing on their world view.
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