For those of my listeners who do not know, it is a tradition to recite the prayer of Saint Michael at the end of Mass in the Catholic Church. As a convert to the faith, I had to learn this powerful prayer, so I could join the chorus of those petitioning Saint Michael to “defend us in battle” and to “cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.” It is a prayer that pulls no punches and rightly so. We are, after all, in a spiritual war against an enemy that is wily, nefarious, and persistent. Even Dominican friars express this truth in where they choose to carry their rosaries: at their sides, an emulation of where warriors used to carry their swords. But even so, we have Saint Michael, a “prince of the Heavenly host,” who by the power of God can put the evil one and his legions where they belong.
Of course, the prayer naturally prompts one to consider exactly how we are attacked. It is rarely, in my estimation, full frontal. Satan works in suggestion and nuance – slippery as a snake – in order to get hapless victims to take the bait and choose darkness over light. He preys on our sin proclivities, and many times we lose the battle. Thank God for the sacrament of reconciliation.
Catholic apologist and all-around thinker, G.K. Chesteron had much to say on the topic of sin, though, true to form, it was framed with a hefty amount of wit. He writes that “a dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.” To be dead, in this case, is to be spiritually lost and intellectually flat. It is to be the antithesis of being inquisitive. It is to shirk the responsibility of critical thinking. It is to defer to what others – anybody, especially if they are so-called influencers – think. It is to go with the popular flow. No questions. No pushback. Going along to get along. You know the drill.
I will not enumerate the countless examples of foisted opinion we see in our society today – notions planted in the heads of millions via social media, popular music, TV entertainment, and even educators – because I imagine that you, dear listeners, already have some examples at the ready. You, too, see the nonsense being peddled as truth, as fact. Chesterton certainly made this observation over a hundred years ago when he penned this line: “Fallacies do not cease to be fallacies because they become fashions.” What are the pseudo-intellectual fashions of our day? How do they turn off our ability to think critically? Indeed, what are the social consequences of asking questions about the new orthodoxy? Hear this: the measure of violent indignation as a result of asking the wrong questions directly corelates with the fashion’s untruth. The bigger the lie, the angrier the response from those who wield it.
As such, perhaps Satan’s other monicker – the father of lies – tells us everything we need to know about our current day and age. We do battle by telling the truth. Plain and simple. This would seem to be an easy fix; however, one glance at our society would tell us a different story. “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting;” writes Chesterton, “it has been found difficult and left untried.” Saint Michael’s battle is difficult, but he is in it for the long-haul, to put it mildly. The same battle is difficult for us, but many fall to the wayside, give up, or not even bother to step into the ring. Let me be clear. I do not say this judgmentally. Life can be hard. Life is hard. We are all, for the most part, doing our very best. But Chesterton’s insight on the nature of the Christian ideal is particularly telling. It goes against the flow. It is countercultural. It requires living things to go against the current. And how? Where can we possibly find the strength? Like Saint Michael, like Chesterton, like any of us who love the truth and hate all things false, the answer is “the power of God.” The answer is in front of us, but it is never from us. The latter creates pride, and we all know the result of that.
