When you see “a Theology of Attachment” as the title of this article, you probably think I’m going to tell you what to give up for Lent. It’s too late for that. Rather, I’m simply going to compare that which Satan clung to and that which Mary clung to. (And yes, I know I just ended a sentence in a preposition, but remember what GK Chesterton wrote: “A preposition, I may remark in passing, is about the best thing in the world to end a sentence with.”)
Satan’s Attachments:
St. Thomas Aquinas wrote: “But [satan] desired resemblance with God in this respect—by desiring, as his last end of beatitude, something which he could attain by the virtue of his own nature, turning his appetite away from supernatural beatitude, which is attained by God’s grace. Or, if he desired as his last end that likeness of God which is bestowed by grace, he sought to have it by the power of his own nature; and not from Divine assistance according to God’s ordering. This harmonizes with Anselm’s opinion, who says that ‘he sought that to which he would have come had he stood fast.’ These two views in a manner coincide; because according to both, he sought to have final beatitude of his own power, whereas this is proper to God alone.”—Summa Part I Q 63.
Notice above something extremely important: Demons are in hell not so much for wanting to be like God, as much as their disordered desire to attain that share in the Divinity by their own power. Hence, they were grasping at power and beauty instead of being obedient to grace. Demons have remorse (not repentance) for now being deprived of the beatific vision which would have ironically made them like God! I write “ironic” because God amazingly wanted to share His own Divine Life with all who obeyed his inspirations to grace.
Therefore, it is ironic demons missed that very participating in the Divine Life by their initial grasping and selfishness. This is why St. Thomas above quotes St. Anselm in saying of satan that “he sought that to which he would have come if he had stood fast.” That is, demons would currently reflect God’s glory as the angels in heaven if only they had “stood fast” in obedience, not rebellion.
It really is quite ironic. Demons’ status is like a child grabbing at its father’s hand that had a unimaginable gift for it—yet that grabbing pulled the gift down to shattering on the ground.
Demons attack us to make the same mistake. Think of how during the adult baptismal rite, converts promise to “reject satan’s empty promises.” The key word there is “empty.” None of satan’s promises come to any fruition except sadness. And we don’t see only eternal sadness in those who follow satan, but even earthly sadness in those who follow him.
But it’s not just satanists or leftists who are prone to these empty promises. We all are. In fact, according to Fr. Ripperger, when Beelzebub was possessing a person, it admitted through that very possessed person the very means by which the demon gets every person and entity to fall into sin, from Adam and Eve to gossipy housewives to adulterous husbands to disobedient children to even Church prelates and government officials. Beelzebub said: “I convince people that they cannot be separated from the particular good.”
That might not sound too profound at first to read, but think of that one sin you just can’t kick. Behind that sin is an unjustified fear that if you give it up, God will be depriving you of something you need—or worse—you deserve (or so you think.) You see, every sin has an attachment and a fear behind it. Whatever you think you absolutely can’t be separated from to live a full life (Instagram, control, vainglory, alcohol, gossip, your university degrees, your mistress, donuts, etc.) is the small hook by which a demon keeps you from flying up to God. As St. Philip Neri wrote, “Even the smallest string around the foot of a bird can keep it from flying.”
That’s not to say anything this extreme: If you can’t live on a diet of St. John of the Cross, you might as well go ahead with big mortal sins. God forbid such extremism. Rather, what it means is that if you identify the fear behind your attachments, you’ll be much more successful at clinging to God-alone. This is one reason why Jesus said “Be Not Afraid” even more than He said “Go and Sin No More.” It’s not because fear is worse than sin. Sin is certainly worse. But behind every sin is a fear.
Identify that fear and ask God this Lent to detach you from it. You don’t need it as much as you thought. In fact, God wants to give you so much more—Himself. Grace is participation in the Divine Life of the Blessed Trinity. Going deeper into grace means less grasping and more abandonment to Divine Providence. We will see that our supreme example for such detachment and attachment is the Immaculate Virgin Mary.
Mary’s Attachments
The first time I heard celibacy for the kingdom described, it was when a priest about 25 years ago said that continence was “clinging to the Lord with an undivided heart.” The heart being undivided reveals the intensity of the heart and body called to love God-alone and souls for the sake of God-alone. To cling is a prayer life and ascetical life on earth that is consummated in heaven if the priest or nun or consecrated is faithful to continence. Of course, no one clung to the Lord with an undivided heart like the Holy Theotokos.
Thus, most of you probably think I am going to write that Mary’s only attachments was the glory of God and the salvation of souls. And that is absolutely correct. In some sense, there is nothing more to write. But we can unpack those beautiful notions a bit more here. As the Annunciation usually falls in Lent (like today) we will look at Mary’s ascetical life.
I once asked Our Lady of Sorrows the number one virtue missing in my life. I got no answer. Then I tried it again. I got no answer. Months later I tried it again, and it hit me like a ton of bricks: Gratitude. I’m not saying I got a mystical locution in my ears or a vision before my eyes of the Mother of God saying “gratitude” to me. Rather, it was an interior clarity that shone through all the confusion of a day clouded with a thousand thoughts that veer off topic. In fact, I did that prayer a few times, asking which virtue was most missing (and the root of all my other sins) and “gratitude” was repeatedly the answer.
Because of this, I wrote in my journal: “Thanksgiving prevents any reflection of Satan’s grasping and envy (Wis 2:24) that caused Lucifer’s initial rebellion against God.” You see, while Lucifer grasped at his own glory (thinking God was not making him as glorious as the future Blessed Virgin Mary—which was true, but not in the sense of deprivation or holding-back against Lucifer) well then, Lucifer rebelled in envy against Mary. The fact is that Mary was only filled with gratitude and the other virtues. She was filled with gratitude not only in that poor cave the day Jesus was born, but even on the day Christ died the gruesome death on the gibbet.
You see, at the cross, Mary did not even grasp at the earthly life of her Son. We can’t even imagine the pain. St. Anselm addresses Mary saying, “Whatever suffering was inflicted on martyrs was light, O Virgin, compared with yours.” St. Bernard similarly speaks to her in writing, “A mighty pain, O Virgin, pierced your soul, so that we rightly term you more-than-martyr. For in you, the feeling of compassion was far greater than the sense of bodily suffering.” And St. Lawrence Justinian spectacularly wrote, “The heart of the Virgin was made the brightest mirror of Christ’s Passion.”
By grasping at nothing, Mary inherited everything as Queen of Heaven and earth. We can never attain such merit as the Mother of God, but we do live on a sliding-scale where detachment is always proportionate to holiness and even grace. Even if we have stopped mortal sin in our lives by God’s grace, we should still identify during lent any tiny, weak string on which our little bird’s foot keeps us from flying to God with Mary.
Thank you if you are able to donate.