Aug 9 Sat
Is there any resemblance between the Tour de France and interior life?
Last week, 166 men rode their bicycles 1,691 miles. Among those miles, they climbed 127,950 feet through the rugged mountains of the Pyrenees and the Alps.
Come the final laps in Paris this Sunday, they will have ridden 2,075 miles, with 172,240 feet of climbing. That is 32 miles of vertical climbing. This does not include hundreds of miles of ups and downs on the roads that do not count as “climbing.”
They ride in fog and rain. Nothing stops the peloton, the name given to the pack of riders.
It is perhaps the most grueling sporting event in the world.
It is a physical test to be sure, but perhaps even more, it is a mental test.
Imagine getting on your bike and going full blast for five hours and then getting up the next day to do it again, and again, and again, and again, for 21 days.
This is the interior life: getting up every day and making your morning offering, saying the Rosary, attending Mass, spending time in mental prayer, examining your conscience, enduring mortifications, sitting in the presence of God, and doing this all day every day—not for 21 days but for the rest of your life.
There is a mental toughness called for in order to combat laziness and lukewarmness. Is this all there is? I have to do this every day until I die, even if I “get nothing out of it”? It can be painful.
Yes, cyclists suffer. You cannot say that they love the pain and suffering, but they certainly embrace it.
St. Josemaría Escrivá, a master of the interior life, said, “Blessed be pain, sanctified be pain.” Catholics know about pain and its uses. Most of the world does not, not even our Evangelical brethren. Pain is not a test; it is a tool for sanctification, for ourselves and for others. Yes, you can take pain relievers, but we know that pain is not meaningless. Even bone cancer in a child is pregnant with meaning and purpose.
Martha’s problem was not that she was busy but that she was busy without the proper intention. We meet Him in the everyday mundane. In her work, she could have met Him just as Mary met Him at His feet.
The supernatural goal we are aiming at is difficult to achieve; it requires us to fight, to be determined, and to be strong. It demands fortitude.
If we respond as we are asked by God, we will be given all the grace and strength we need. We will be able to overcome every obstacle and finally reach our goal of holiness.
We must offer our ordinary work, our pain, and our worries for ourselves and for others. If we do so with the proper intention, what is an ordinary, everyday thing—like pedaling a bike or working at a desk—becomes a path to holiness, a work of God.
This is what we are called to do each and every day.
Some excerpts from Austin Ruse