As we journey through the season of Lent towards Easter, it is a great time to step back and reflect on the journey—not only how far we have come and where God is calling us to next, but also on the state of our hearts as travelers. While we may be continuing to put one foot in front of the other and moving forward on the path, how well are we truly embracing the journey Christ is leading us on? How well are we allowing each step of the journey itself to make us more like Christ?
A couple months ago in the Office of Readings, I stumbled upon the following excerpt from a sermon by St. Augustine:
So, then, my brothers, let us sing now, not in order to enjoy a life of leisure, but in order to lighten our labors. You should sing as wayfarers do—sing, but continue your journey. Do not be lazy, but sing to make your journey more enjoyable. Sing, but keep going. What do I mean by keep going? Keep on making progress. This progress, however, must be in virtue; for there are some, the Apostle warns, whose only progress is in vice. If you make progress, you will be continuing your journey, but be sure that your progress is in virtue, true faith and right living. Sing then, but keep going.
There are three important reminders that jumped out at me in this beautiful little reflection from St. Augustine, which I would like to consider with you today.
First, St. Augustine reminds us that as Christians, this side of heaven, we remain people on the journey, but not only that: in order to have authentic hope in the midst of trials—that is, the theological virtue of hope—we must remain convicted of the fact that we are not yet home. Catholic philosopher Josef Pieper calls this “state of being on the way” the status viatoris. In his essay on Hope he writes:
To be on the way, to be a viator, means to be making progress toward eternal happiness; to have encompassed this goal, to be a comprehensor, means to possess beatitude. Beatitude is to be understood primarily as the fulfillment objectively appropriate to our nature…And this fulfillment is the Beatific Vision.
Herein lies the paradoxical tension of the Christian journey, that it is only in the absolute and terrifying conviction of the depth of our sinfulness that we can accept a savior, and only in the steady and unwavering conviction that we are net yet home that we can continue to make progress in the journey. St. Augustine encourages his listeners to “sing, but continue the journey. Do not be lazy”. There is a certain this-worldly and merely human “hope” that can make us too comfortable and even complacent on the journey in this life, but this human hope must be transcended and drawn up into the theological virtue of hope which rightly directs our hearts to the only ultimate fulfillment which is God himself. The obstacles on the journey, looked at rightly, are blessings because they shake us out of our complacency and remind us to keep our eyes on the ultimate goal.
This brings us to our second point in which St. Augustine gives a reminder and warning to not just to “keep going” but to strive to make real progress in virtue rather than vice. On the face of it, this seems a rather obvious point. But the reality is that every day, and in every moment of every day, we are indeed making “progress”—but progress toward what exactly? The language of “virtue and vice” here is important, because beneath the mere externalities of our actions moment to moment, there are good and bad habits and dispositions forming in our hearts. Who am I becoming as a result of the ordinary choices and decisions of everyday life—“my thoughts, my words, what I have done, and what I have failed to do” as we pray in the Confiteor? Am I truly progressing in virtue, those dispositions and qualities that make me more like Jesus? Am I practicing those deepest “attitudes” that will lead to the ultimate “beatitude” which is union with God? Every step of the journey confronts us with the biblical “two ways” of life and death, and with every decision (or lack of decision) we are becoming who we will be—forever, either united with Christ or separated from Him. Progress in virtue requires intentionality and our free decision our free decisions to cooperate with God’s grace.
Finally, and following these first two points, I think we can make sense of St. Augustine’s qualified encouragement for us to “Sing, but continue the journey.” The Christian wayfarer should be marked by joy, but joy is incompatible with both a lazy complacency about the journey as well as a presumption that any and all movement equals progress in virtue—that is, true conversion of heart. Rather, the joyful song of the Christian wayfarer is precisely that which arises from an authentic and living relationship with Christ as savior—a song of authentic Hope from a singer who while they remain painfully aware of their status viatoris keeps their eyes on heaven. This joy is not something we can manufacture but only accept and receive as a grace, and we accept and receive it by truly picking up our crosses and following Jesus on the journey.
As a network, let us pray for each other during this Lenten season, keeping in mind especially those journeyers in OCIA preparing to enter into full communion with the Catholic Church this Easter, as well as the many other inquirers who are still prayerfully considering what next steps Christ is calling them to take. May we all be marked by this joy of knowing the Lord Jesus Christ and growing in imitation of Him. Whatever obstacles and difficulties we may be facing, let us sing and continue the journey together.
