Transformation in Christ_ On the Christian Attitude - Dietrich Von Hildebrand [210]
Though our redemption is a necessary condition of our delight in the glory of God, though only the redeemed can properly give thanks for it—Gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam—the primary object to which our joy adequately refers is not our deliverance and elevation, but God Himself, His glory as such, His infinite goodness which reveals itself to us in Jesus’ face.
But in the second place, our redemption and our undeserved privilege of being called to an eternal communion with God justify, on our part, an indestructible holy joy—a supernatural joy which is to fill our eternity. “Thou hast redeemed us, O Lord, in Thy blood, out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and hast made us to our God a kingdom. The mercies of the Lord I will sing forever” (Introit of the Feast of the Most Precious Blood of Our Lord).
We should also rejoice about God’s gifts of grace to mankind, and for the Church
We have, further, an occasion for unending joy in every one who has been transformed by grace, who can say of himself with St. Paul, “The grace of God was not without effect in me”; who bears the seal of Christ on his forehead and in his whole life. Therefore does the Church sing in the Introit of All Saints and of all great feasts of the saints: “Let us all rejoice in the Lord, celebrating this feast.”
We must also rejoice in God’s gifts of grace, which change even our earthly habitation into a forecourt of heaven: notably, the Sacraments, and above all, the Holy Eucharist. “He fed them with the fat of wheat, alleluia; and filled them with honey out of the rock, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia” (Introit of the Feast of Corpus Christi).
Again, do we not find an enduring cause for joy in the existence of the Holy Church, the Bride of the Holy Spirit; in her infallible doctrinal authority; in the supernatural community of the Mystical Body of Christ? In these things, every Christian must take constant delight, however heavy his cross, however much his personal life may abound in suffering. All terrors and all the woes of the world are powerless to destroy these goods; the joy they inspire soars victoriously above all sorrow.
Christian hope infuses even our sufferings with joy
Yet, evidently an objection might be raised. Is not our incertitude as to whether we shall persevere and partake in the fruits of Redemption, a drop of wormwood which might poison all this joy? Had we not better bear in mind the words of St. Augustine, “He who made thee without thee will not justify thee without thee”? True enough, the hour of eternal holy joy—joy pure and untroubled, joy unceasing and indestructible—has not yet struck for us. The Lord has not yet spoken to us the words: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant: enter into the joy of thy Lord.” We still dwell in this life, and our situation is still fraught with the character of duality.
However, all our sufferings are transfigured by a ray of light; a light of vivifying solace is spread about everything that would, in itself, legitimately fill us with anguish and sorrow, That light is hope. It is our right, it is our duty to hope: for hope is one of the three theological virtues which are to inform a Christian’s life. Hope, illuminating everything like a shaft of light that pierces through darkness, rectifies and sweetens all sorrow in its innermost core.
So long as we are in statu viae we still live in hope. This means that the eternal morning has not yet dawned: that we have not attained the Goal but are as yet on our pilgrimage. But it means, also,