WE DO NOT HAVE A NATURAL POWER TO LOVE GOD ABOVE ALL THINGS
Eagles have a strong heart and great strength to fly. Yet they have immeasurably more sight than strength to fly. They extend their gaze very fast and much farther than their wings. So too, our human spirits, enlivened by a holy natural inclination towards God, have more clarity in the understanding to see how lovable God is than strength in the will to love him. For sin has very much weakened the human will than it has blinded the understanding. The rebellion of the sense appetite, which we call concupiscence, indeed troubles the mind. But, it is mainly against the will that it foments sedition and revolt. So the poor will, already very weak, agitated by constant attacks from concupiscence, cannot make as much progress in divine love as the reason and natural inclination would suggest to it that it should make.
Alas! Theotimus, what beautiful testimonies not only of a great knowledge of God, but also of a strong inclination to love him have been left by those great philosophers Socrates, Plato, Trismegistes, Aristotle, Hippocrates, Seneca, Epictetus! Socrates, the most highly praised among them, knew clearly the unity of God. He had such an inclination to love God, as St. Augustine bears witness, that many thought that he taught moral philosophy for no other purpose than that of purifying human souls. Thus they could contemplate better the supreme good which is the one unique God. As regards Plato, he declares it sufficiently in his celebrated definition of philosophy and the philosopher. He says that to philosophize is nothing else than to love God and the philosopher is none other than a lover of God. What shall I say of the great Aristotle? He so effectively proved the unity of God and spoke of it with great respect in so many places.
But, O, eternal God, these great minds which had so great a knowledge of God and such an inclination to love him, all of them, lacked the strength and courage to love him well. Through visible creatures, they knew the invisible things of God, and indeed, his eternal power and Divinity, says the great Apostle, so that they are without excuse because having known God, they did not glorify him as God, nor did they give him thanks (Rom 1:20, 21). Certainly, they glorified him to some extent, giving him supreme titles of honour. But they did not glorify him as he should be glorified. This means that they did not glorify him above all things. They did not have the courage to destroy idolatry. Instead they joined with idolaters, keeping back the truth that they knew. They were unjust, prisoners within their own hearts. They preferred the honour and empty tranquillity of their lives to the honour which they should give to God. They lost themselves in their arguments.
Is it not very sad, Theotimus, to see Socrates as Plato narrates, as he lay dying, speaks of gods as if there were many? He knew very well that there was only one God. Is it not regrettable that Plato, who knew very well the truth of divine unity, orders sacrifices to be offered to several gods? Is it not pitiful that Mercury Trismegistes, who spoke worthily of the Godhead on so many occasions, bewails and complains so shamefully about the abolition of idolatry?
But above all I wonder at the poor good man Epictetus. His talks and opinions are very charming to read in our language [French]. It is available in the recent translation from the learned and graceful pen of Rev. Father Dom John of St. Francis, provincial of the Congregation of the Feuil- lants among the French. This great philosopher sometimes speaks of God with so much relish, feeling and zeal that we would take him for a Christian coming from a holy and deep meditation. Yet, what a pity, elsewhere, from time to time, he speaks of God as idolaters do. Alas! this good man knew so well divine unity and had such a great taste for divine goodness. Why did he not have a holy jealousy for divine honour so that he neither turned away or took no notice of a topic of such great importance?
In short, our poor nature wounded by sin is like the palm trees we have here. They produce some imperfect products as if it is their first attempt at producing fruits. But to produce whole, ripe, seasoned dates is reserved for trees in warmer countries. Thus our human heart quite naturally produces some beginnings of love towards God. But to come to love him above all things is the true maturity of love due to this supreme goodness. To reach it belongs only to hearts enlivened and assisted by heavenly grace, who are in state of holy charity. This little imperfect love of which nature itself feels the glow is only a kind of will without will, a will which would like to will but does not will. It is a barren will that does not produce genuine effects; it is a paralyzed will which sees the healthy pool of holy love but has no strength to jump into it (Jn 5:7).
Finally, this will is a miserable specimen of good will. It does not have the generous vigour needed to prefer effectively God above all things. The apostle, speaking in the person of a sinner, says: I can will what is right but I cannot do it (Rom 7:18).