ON THE 6th OF OCTOBER 2002, Pope John Paul II canonised Josemaría Escrivá in St. Peter’s Square, Rome. St. Escrivá founded Opus Dei, a personal prelature of the Catholic Church that is committed to the ideal of holiness in the midst of the world especially through work well done in the spirit of charity. Perhaps I am now motivated by justice to repay the benefits which I have experienced through the many formative activities of Opus Dei through this article, yet unless this also be motivated by charity, I would have fallen short myself of the spirit of the man whom I praise! So as I write this I recollect myself and pray to God that this might somehow benefit others who might read it, so that inspired by this witness, they too might be moved to partake of the goodness which I have enjoyed through St. Escrivá and the whole movement that God has inspired through him.

For charity—indeed heroic charity—is certainly the intention which is aimed at by the spirit of St. Escrivá and Opus Dei, and rightly so. St. Paul tells that that were his body delivered to be burnt but he had no love, he would be nothing. Certainly he would be something—something burnt; but in the eyes of God, this burnt sacrifice would be worthless, for abstracted from love, all one would have is prime matter, that most imperfect principle. But with love, the deed would be an act immersed in the very life of God himself, for love is nothing but the gift of sanctifying grace, a participation in the very life of God. Even the burnt thing would be precious—not in itself, but insofar as it is a remembrance of love. After all, it is neither the burning or not-burning that is significant, but the burning for what. And it matters to God only if it is for love.

No ordinary love

Now this love is not ordinary love, that moves towards the good, but agape or caritas, which is that peculiar loving of God, that defines His entire activity. It is a love, St. Thomas Aquinas teaches, which brings goodness into being, rather than presupposes that the good be already there. It is a seeker for crevices as it were, and fills these in. It is a creative dynamism, that looks not for the loveable, but for the unloveable and makes it loveable.

God is love, the Evangelist St. John says, and God’s being and activity are identical. This constantly creative God, who brings about the good of being from nothingness and sustains it in being, constantly and permanently inspires his servants with this love, and shares it with them: from the very beginning of the creative act of the universe, to the coming of Jesus Christ and the followers of Christ this has been the primary message and movement—that creative goodness should move our souls and consistently abound, and the grace of God effects this with our co-operation.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, not everyone gets to be burnt, but all the same, there are plenty opportunities to be inflamed by love without reservation, and to die for it. And here in St. Escrivá I find a spiritual master. For he chides those who daydream of fighting the tiger, when there are only mice to be found: but these mice are the stuff of which saints are made. It is the daily, seemingly insignificant ordinary life that we find occasions to love God and to instantiate fully, through the help of grace, that creative love of God—be that the office, on the bus, in the school or in the canteen. In our work and our relations with the people around us, we have to show the love of God there, or else never!

In point number one of his classic work The Way that has sold over 4 million copies in 43 different languages, St. Escrivá wrote:

“Don’t let your life be barren. Be useful. Make yourself felt. Shine forth with the torch of your faith and your love. With your apostolic life, wipe out the trail of filth and slime left by the corrupt sowers of hatred. And set aflame all the ways of the earth with the fire of Christ that you bear in your heart.” (www.escrivaworks.org)