Cardinal Sarah Explains… The Critical Importance Of Prayer
By DONALD DeMARCO
Robert Cardinal Sarah’s new book, The Day Is Now Far Spent (2019, translated by Michael J. Miller), is precisely the strong and sane message the Church needs in our twilight zone of confusion and desertion. The title is faithful to the French, in which the book was originally penned: Le soir approche et déjà le jour baisse. (The night is approaching, but already the day is nearly gone.) In either language the meaning is clear: We had better get going for time is running out.
Nonetheless, though his book is severely critical of the waywardness in the Church and in the world, it is essentially hopeful because the author understands the efficacy of God’s grace as well as the possibility that human beings can actually “flourish.” This most vibrant word is derived from Latin and French referring to “blossoming,” as the blossoming of a flower.
“It is of capital importance here,” writes the good cardinal, “to rediscover the notion of human nature as the condition for the flourishing of freedom” (p. 158). “Our humanity attains the fullness of flourishing, by accepting the gift of sexed nature, while cultivating and developing it” (p. 160). And God is “the treasure and source of all human flourishing” (p. 224). Christ, Himself, has said, “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).
But how can a person flourish in a world in which darkness is falling precipitously? He cannot do it by himself. He is completely reliant of God. As Cardinal Sarah tells us, with loving concern: “Dear friends, you wish to lift up the Church? Get down on your knees! That is the only way! If you proceed otherwise, what you will do will not be from God. Only God can save us. He will do so only if we pray to him” (p. 16).
Our present predicament, as Cardinal Sarah explains, is twofold. We have cut ourselves off from God, and, at the same time, we have cut ourselves off from our own roots. Therefore, we find ourselves floating in space with neither aspiration nor anchor. Under such circumstances, flourishing is not possible. An aggressive Western globalization, according to Sarah “tends to make humanity uniform…cutting man off from his roots, from his religion, from his culture, history, customs, and ancestors” (p. 242).
On the one hand, a “fluid atheism,” a subtle and dangerous state of mind “snares priest and parishioner alike within a web of falsehood and compromises” (p. 334). “Western liberty is a shadow play” (p. 233). We no longer understand that true liberty is the daughter of truth, which directs liberty to seek the good. If I say that 2 plus 2 is 5, does that make me freer? “Rather,” he states, not mincing words, “I am more idiotic” (p. 276). There are infinite numbers of errors. But none of them make us free. Without truth, liberty becomes license, merely the illusion of liberty which exhausts itself in self-destructive activities.
On the other hand, in denying the gift of our sexed humanity, we are also making our sexuality fluid. We no longer believe that God created us male and female. We prefer to re-create ourselves according to our whims. Some profess that there are no men or women, just whatever we conceive ourselves to be. This fluid sexuality leads to the LGBT coalition which is mistakenly presented to the world as a “community.”
One should be grateful here for Cardinal Sarah’s refusal to acquiesce in political correctness. “Thus it is politically correct,” he writes with his acid pen, “to speak about the ‘gay community’ as though they were a separate class of people with a common culture, a particular way of dressing and speaking, neighborhoods set aside in the cities, and even their own stores and restaurants.” He urges those who are tempted by homosexuality “not to let themselves be shut away in this prison of LGBT ideology” (p. 167).
The distinguished French theologian Henri de Lubac has contrasted submission to Revelation with submission to a purely human system of thinking and acting. He defines the former as a “fertilizing submission” and the latter as one that is “sterilizing.” This distinction is in accord with the words of John the Evangelist: “I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the Evil One. Do not love the world or the things in the world” (1 John 2:12-15).
There is a great deal of talk from Catholics who call themselves “liberal” to change the Church. But inevitably what this means is that the Church should be more like the world. One particular priest has gone as far as to say that the world is the “leaven” that the Church needs in order to grow.
Nevertheless, as Cardinal Sarah reminds us, this is empty talk since “the Western world no longer has any experience of the supernatural” (p. 49).
The Day Is Now Far Spent is a masterful blend of orthodoxy, courage, clarity, intelligence, critical analysis, and love. I close this brief report with a final citation, one that all Catholics of good faith should take to heart:
“Those who make sensational announcements of change and rupture are false prophets. They do not seek the good of the flock. They are mercenaries who have been smuggled into the sheepfold. Our unity will be forged around the truth of Catholic doctrine. There are no other means. Trying to win popularity with the media at the expense of the truth amounts to doing the work of Judas” (p. 17). Amen.
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(Dr. Donald DeMarco is a professor emeritus of St. Jerome’s University and an adjunct professor at Holy Apostles College and Seminary. He is a regular columnist for the St. Austin Review. His latest books, How to Navigate Through Life and Apostles of the Culture of Life, are posted on amazon.com.)
