1. The indwelling, then, of the Holy Spirit is a true and
magnificent phrase. It means that we become living Temples of God.
Elsewhere indeed He is in tree, flower, sky, earth, water; up in
the Heavens, down to the depths of the lower places, in the cleft
wood and lifted stone, in the heart of all creation by the very
fact of its creation. Yet the higher a thing is in the scale of
being the more nearly is it after God's image and likeness, so
that man by his sheer intelligence is more representative of God,
as the highest masterpiece is more representative of the author of
it. Yet over and above this intelligent life of man is another
life in him, which secures God's presence within him in some
nobler fashion, for it is noticeable that Scripture repeatedly
speaks of God's dwelling in His saints, and not dwelling in
sinners. Now He is even in sinners by the title of their Creator,
so that _dwelling_ must be a deliberate phrase chosen by the
Inspired author of Scripture to represent some presence above the
mere general presence of God everywhere. Consequently we are
driven to the conclusion that the saints, in virtue of their
sainthood, become dwelling places of God, temples, special places
set apart, where in a more perfect way, with richer expression and
more true representation, God is. Sanctity, therefore, constitutes
something wholly supernatural, attracting God's indwelling, or
rather resulting from this indwelling of God.
2. Now sanctity itself cannot mean that one man is able to make
himself so alluring to God that he draws God to himself, for in
that case God's action of indwelling would be motived by a
creature, and God would have found some finite reason for His act.
This cannot be, since the only sufficient motive for God can be
God Himself. "He hath done all things on account of Himself," say
the Scriptures. We can be sure, therefore, that the indwelling of
the spirit is the cause and not the effect of the goodness that is
in man, for the Saints are not born, but made by God. Hence we
understand what is meant by saying that the justice of the Saints,
their justification, is effected by grace, i. e., by God's free
gift. It is not from them, but from Him: "Not to us, O Lord, not
to us, but to Thy name give Glory." Grace, therefore, is the name
given to that divine habit whereby the soul is made one with Him.
It is clear, then, also, why in the catechism grace is called the
supernatural life of the soul, and why mortal sin is called the
death of the soul, since it kills the soul by depriving it of
sanctifying grace.
3. This leads us to the last notion of grace, that it is in the
supernatural order what the soul is in the natural order. My soul
is everywhere in my body and gives evidence of its presence by the
life there manifest; cut off a portion of the body, amputate a
limb. It dies. The soul is no longer in it. So does grace work. It
is right in the very essence of the soul, at the heart of it, and
works through into all the faculties and powers by means of the
virtues. It is the life of the whole assemblage of these habits of
goodness. As soon as it is withdrawn, then at once charity goes,
for we are out of friendship with God, and charity is nothing
other than the love of God. Hope still and faith in some form
remain, but without any inner life or energy to quicken them. All
else is a crumbled ruin, without shape or life, a sight to fill
those that can see it with horror and disgust. With grace the soul
is once more thronged with vital activities, for grace is life.
Grace it is that gives the same charm to the soul as life gives to
the body; it imparts a freshness, an alertness, an elasticity, a
spontaneous movement, a fragrance, a youth. By grace we are
children in God's eyes, with the delicate coloring and sweetness
of a child; without it we are old, worn, dead, not only useless to
ourselves, but a pollution to others. Need one wonder if all life
is different to the soul in sin? Religion, God, Heaven, Mass,
prayers, have lost all attraction and are full of drudgery.
Outwardly we feel the same; but our attraction to these higher
gifts has gone, a prodigal as yet content with the husks of life's
fruitage, relishing only the food of swine, without grace,
spiritually dead.