Going my Way?

So I just barely started reading  St. Josemaria Escriva's The Way, a set of little reflections by the priest that founded Opus Dei. I'm not into religious "groups" or "clubs," so I can't say that I'm big on Opus Dei to start. Maybe that colors my reading; or it may be that something is lost in translation. That being said, I'm not exactly finding Escriva's reflections all that inspirational. He's provocative and challenging, but it isn't exactly the Imitation of Christ.

I suppose what I dislike about the very beginning of the book is that in the first fifty five reflections or so, Christ is kind of lurking in the shadows. In the first reflection he mentions having "the fire of Christ"  (and Christ enkindles this fire again in 16). His second reflection says that your behavior should make it clear to everyone that "This man reads the life of Jesus Christ." If we skip ahead to reflection 24, he says that any worldly ambition is good so long as it is done "for Christ, for Love."

For the most part, however, the texts reads like an angry rant from a disappointed father.

3: Maturity. Stop making faces and acting up like a child! Your bearing ought to reflect the peace and order in your soul!
4: Don't say, "That's the way I am--it's my character." It's your lack of character. Esto vir!--Be a man!
18: You go on being worldly, frivolous, and giddy because you are a coward. What is it, if not cowardice, to refuse to face yourself?
35: There are many pretty terms I don't like: you call cowardice "prudence." Your "prudence" gives an ooportunity to those enemies of God, without any ideas in their heads, to pass themselves off as scholars, and so reach positions that they never should attain.
37: You have, as they say, "the gift of gab." But in spite of all your talk, you can't get me to justify--by calling it "providential"--what has no justification.

Okay, so maybe I just resist these passages because they sound like a laundry list of my vices. It's not that I necessarily disagree with any of these, and, actually, number 35 seems particularly poignant for academia. Still, the tone (which, again, might be owing to the translation) comes off like a shrill, grating, rant: "It's your fault things are the way they are, because you are a squirrelly little coward, so suck it up, be a man, and do something about it. Anything shy of punching out the schoolyard bully makes you a sissy girl, and I have no time for that." Again, this might just be a personal issue on my part.

The introduction suggests that I should hear the voice of a brother or father whispering in my ear, trying to wean me off of childish things, but it's hard for me to hear that voice. Actually, it's hard for me to imagine any male voice whispering in my ear. It'd creep me out. Rather, it reads like the voice of an angry parent, or an older sibling with a superiority complex. It might be owing to the use of the second person, which makes the text sound as though the speaker has somehow achieved some perfection that the addressee hasn't. The guy was sainted, and I'll be the first to admit that I'm not getting any awards for good behavior, but the tone of self-appointed moral superiority also elicits suspicion on the part of an American reader. It reads as if I, personally (who the reader doesn't know), always use the term "prudence" to cover feminine cowardice...whereas the authorial voice, the "I" in the reflection, never engages in hypocrisy. He disdains the word, so he would never dabble in such a thing. It might have been better if the reflections were addressed to the writer himself, if the "you" reflected the author's own interior critique, or if the the writer made use of the first person plural to suggest that he struggles alongside the reader. Instead, the opening reflections read like the spiritual direction equivalent of bullying.
But if I resist the tone, then I appear to be a spoiled, childish brat, making angry faces and acting up when I am told to take my medicine. It's a kind of circular logic.
Obviously, this text has found its way into the hearts of many, and it may be that many people feel they need this kind of kick-in-the-pants approach, so I am not going to dismiss it out of hand. I just have a sinking suspicion from reading the opening pages that I might not be the target audience of its rhetoric.
When I read the Imitation, I always get the feeling that the author really does always hit a nerve...whereas The Way's beginning just kind of gets on my nerves.

Comments

[Aurelius]

I had the exact same reaction. It will get better. At the end, you may still say it's no _Imitation_ but I promise it does get better than the beginning.