Mortify, to Sanctify

mor·ti·fy – from Late Latin mortificare, from Latin mort-, mors
1 obsolete : to destroy the strength, vitality, or functioning of
2 : to subdue or deaden (as the body or bodily appetites) especially by abstinence or self-inflicted pain or discomfort
3 : to subject to severe and vexing embarrassment : SHAME

sanc·ti·fy – from Late Latin sanctificare, from Latin sanctus sacred
1 : to set apart to a sacred purpose or to religious use : CONSECRATE
2 : to free from sin : PURIFY
3 a : to impart or impute sacredness, inviolability, or respect to b : to give moral or social sanction to
4 : to make productive of holiness or piety

Along with some lovely ladies from 4Real, I am preparing for Consecration to Jesus through Mary (St. Louis Montfort). This is my second attempt. Last time I got derailed after the first couple of weeks because of travel and other “busy-ness”; this time I hope to complete it despite the travel sched and the upcoming busy-ness of the season, in time to make the consecration on December 8. If you feel so inclined, please say a prayer for me (us) that I (we) may finish this endeavor.

For the last week or so I’ve been meditating (again) on mortification. This was a word I didn’t really understand until just a couple of years ago. When I was younger all I knew of mortification was embarrassment, or something to do with death. I didn’t really know there was such a deep connection between mortification and our faith, and the way we live our lives as Christians and Catholics.

As a child in elementary school, I was part of a group called “Crusaders”. I don’t remember a lot of what we learned there, I do know we visited some orphans and prayed the rosary together… but I do remember the emphasis on Prayer, Sacrifice and Apostolate. (There was a fourth one, I think, but I don’t remember now what it was.) Sacrifice was something that stuck in my head because I knew I wanted to do it, but I didn’t have any concrete ideas as to how I should sacrifice — most examples we were taught had something to do with candy or giving way to a sibling’s wants. Perhaps, because I had never really been a candy person at anytime in my life, this was a difficult lesson for me to learn. I cannot say that I sacrificed much in all my youth and even into my adult years. Not to say that I didn’t do things for people, or gave certain things up, but these were done without the spirit that I now am learning to cultivate and exercise. Many of my “sacrifices” before were done in an effort to “be nice” or “do the right thing”. Which are okay goals in and of themselves, I suppose. Now that I understand a bit better, I kinda regret not having had the opportunity to sacrifice more, to live each day for God’s purpose, to “offer up” anything and everything that I could. I think of all the good deeds that I can remember doing and wish now that I could have done them more for the Lord than for anything else. I think of all the bad choices I made and wish I could go back and make the right choice, for Him.

Of course, I do realize that God reveals Himself to us when we are open and ready to receive His Graces, and in His time. But being human I still tend to look back sometimes and think of “could have beens”.

One of the things that learning about mortification brings me is the realization of how important these lessons are, not just to practicing Catholics like me who are just relearning the basic teachings of our faith (or seeing them with new eyes), but to our children. I am ever grateful that my 16-yo is a wonderful person who actually WANTS to learn more about our faith and about holiness. But I feel like I did her a disservice by not teaching her these things when she was a little child. She got the usual “be nice”, “be kind”, “do the right thing”. I wish I could have taught her about St. Therese, about Mary, about their “Yes” to God and His will, as little girls and as young women. She has a great devotion now to both, but I know how she struggles as well. Perhaps her struggles would be a bit easier had Mom taught her sooner than later. Sigh…

And so this dying to self thing is hard. Because I get so focused sometimes on what *I* am doing or not doing, one of my biggest challenges is to apply this teaching not only to my body but my thinking as well. It includes the lesson of learning to forgive myself, of seeing that sometimes I am much too proud to simply accept God’s love. Mortification, to me at least, right now, also means taking the focus off of what *I* did wrong and setting my eyes instead on what God is doing right, filling in the gaps that I have missed as a parent. Mortification teaches me to look at myself and see all my frailties and wrongdoing, but looking at these in the right light. It teaches me that without God, I am nothing, can do nothing. Mortification shows me that it’s NOT all about me. It is learning to silence that voice that keeps on saying “I could have done it, and I didn’t”, as if everything depended on ME. As if in my sinning *I’m* still the “star of the show”. Instead I am learning to say, “I fail, but God in His goodness and mercy takes over.” And say it with a thankful heart, not a begrudging one. If you know me at all, you know just how difficult this lesson is for me.

The past couple of years, I’ve tried to practice this “mortification thing”. For some reason, this time around, I think I’m finally GETTING IT. Allow me to share my beginner thoughts on this. Mortification isn’t just an offering up. [Though offering up is an excellent way to "get holy"; honestly, I don't know if there's a ranking of "must do's for Christians/Catholics" -- e.g., mortification = five stars and offering up = four stars, etc. -- I think as long as it gets us on the road to holiness it doesn't really matter, does it?] Mortification is the giving up of the little things, it’s denying oneself, it’s recognizing that we have weaknesses and desires and passions and inordinate wants: some are tiny weaknesses that are but cracks in our exterior, that if permitted to remain, can lead to deep fissures and eventually, if left unchecked, unrepairable damage. It’s in the LEARNING to curb the tiniest wants, in the practice of disciplining ourselves to say no to our minor inclinations — with the Almighty’s help — that we gather the strength to say no to the bigger temptations. It’s like daily exercise. Unless we practice on a regular basis, unless we learn to lift the 5 pounds first, then the 10 pounds, day in and day out, we will never get to lift the 50 lbs.

It goes hand in hand with doing great things. If we cannot keep ourselves faithful over the little things, how can we expect to be faithful in bigger things? If we don’t know how to deny ourselves the small desires of our body and our mind: the last piece of chocolate, the extra helping of cake, that episode of a soap opera, the cussing at a car that cut us off, how do we say no to excess in spending, to binging, to R- and X-rated movies, to allowing ourselves to be consumed by rage?

Some practical suggestions from the Consecration:

• Have water with your meal instead of your favorite drink, i.e., juice, soda, etc.
• No ice in your water if you like it cold.
• If you like bland food, add more spices.
• If you like spicy food, make it more bland.
• Stop eating before you’re completely full.

Looking at this list, it doesn’t look life-changing, does it? But it is. Every saint practiced some form of mortification.

It is in the emptying of ourselves, in putting to death our human nature that wants comfort and luxury, recognition, that “pat-in-the-back”, that we can experience new life. It is in mortifying our bodies and our brains that we learn to sanctify our hearts and our souls.

And because I’m sure I’ve muddied the waters with all my free association here…

Mortification, from Catholic Encyclopedia
Introduction to the Devout Life
The What and Why of Mortification