Lesser Known Fathers I: St. John of Damascus

First, a very short biography of today's Saint for contextual purposes—you can find the rest with Mr. Google. John was born in the mid-seventh century to a family whose tribal origin is uncertain to us, but which suggests a long history of regional magistrates and administrators. John himself took up service and acted as an administrator for the Umayyad caliph until he left public life for a religious vocation as a monk. The saint was supposedly a polymath, highly capable in geometry and astronomy in addition to theology and philosophy. He most enduring work has been his tracts in defense of iconography and the veneration of icons in prayer, written against the iconoclast heresy of Emperor Leo III. St. John, although not within the domain of the rapidly decaying Empire, constructs some of his language and criticism of his second and third treatises against iconoclasm as though he was a citizen of Byzantium, possibly to give him better ground to abjure the Emperor. The three tracts on icons use the same material, references, and often the same exact phrases and arguments, as they are all really just variants of each other. Therefor we shall discuss them interchangeably. We will then look at his first sermon on the Dormition/Assumption of the Mother of God. Let us begin.

 

Note: references such as (I:9) mean Treatise I, chapter 9.

 

St. John's take on icons should arouse our attention, as his arguments are faithfully intuitive and easy to convey to iconoclastic Roman clergy and protestants who cannot fathom the purpose of displaying and venerating holy images. At the very heart of his defense of icons is the fact that icons are images, and images, he tells us, are very sacred and holy things. Images need not be defined merely as pictures, but as likenesses to archetypes. God the Son is a direct image, says the Saint, of God the Father, composed of the same essence, but different in Person (I:9). The Father is the cause and the Son is caused. John elucidates other "images" throughout Scripture of lesser magnitude than the Son as image of the Father, such as the Ark of the Covenant as an image of the Virgin Mary or, he takes from St. Gregory the Theologian, memory as an image of the historic event. We should see by now that to St. John images and types are one and the same thing. Types are not limited to the Old Covenant, nor are images strictly physical planks created with paint brushes. They are real reflections of God, albeit of a lesser degree.

 

People, then and now, commonly object to the veneration of icons on the grounds of the First Commandment, which prohibits the human fashioning of idols which are worshipped as gods. These people need to read St. Paul, who wrote that the Letter kills, but the Spirit quickens. The Jews of old, John teaches, were prohibited from delving into veneration of physical objects too deeply owing to their tendency toward idolatry and to the incompleteness of Revelation (III:4). The Jews did venerate some physical things, such as Aaron's rod, even things that were images, specifically the cherubim and seat on the lid of the Ark of the Covenant. They were forbidden from making any images of something unrelated to their God and were also forbidden from making images of their God because they did not know what He might look like (II:5). The cause of this restriction ended with the Incarnation, when God put on human flesh, sanctified it, and dwelt among us in it. God became intelligible to the human eye and human experience. As St. Paul wrote in his first epistle to the Church in Corinth, "now we see puzzling reflections in a mirror."

 

In venerating images, we engage in a specific type of veneration, as veneration is not a single action but rather is composed of different grades. All worship is due to God and God alone, as His nature is ineffable and above all things. Yet we can worship in many ways. We can worship God in His nature directly. We can worship Him in veneration of His actions, such as the Incarnation and Resurrection. We can venerate Him in His works. We can venerate Him in ways which we can comprehend Him in His corporeal body. Veneration of icons falls into this last level. We worship God Who became Man, and we do so by showing reverence to depictions of this intelligible and visible work of God.

 

John quotes the Greek Fathers, particularly St. Gregory the Theologian, constantly driving home the point that he would not need to explain the obvious concerning sacred images had the opponents of iconography only followed the Church's traditional teaching concerning them: "if anyone proclaims anything to you other than what the Catholic Church has received from the Apostles and Holy Fathers and synods and preserved up to now, do not listen to him nor accept the counsel of the serpent, as Eve accepted it and reaped death" (II:6).

 

The Saint finds other reasons to uphold the veneration of icons and sacred images in the Church's contemporary practice, such as praying to the saints. Neglecting the veneration of the saints, the army of Christ the King, is the same as divesting God of His army (I:21). The same applies to the icons. Does their neglect not neglect Jesus' Revelation to us in our nature? The pagans, who denied Christ's Redemption of the human race, saw their images and statues destroyed and replaced with images of God (images according to John's vocabulary) in the form of icons of Christ, of His Life on earth, of His Mother, and of the Saints (III:9).

 

Treatises II and III have no real ending, just a brutal series of quotations from various Greek Fathers concerning icons. Treatise I concludes in exhorting the reader to cling to the traditions of the Church (I:68). The removal of a tradition is like the removal of a foundational stone from a building: eventually it all tumbles down.

 

Lastly, we should consider his first sermon on the Dormition/Assumption of the Mother of God, the Virgin Mary. "How can the source of life pass through death to life? O how can she obey the law of nature, who, in conceiving, surpasses the boundaries of nature? How is her spotless body made subject unto death? In order to be clothed in immortality she must first put off mortality, since the Lord of nature did not reject the penalty of death."

 

Heaven and earth cannot contain God's infinite majesty, but Mary's womb did. Therefor God took her bodily into heaven after her death, so that such a virginal body which bore God the Son would not be subject to decay. She was blessed and unspotted, not after death but from her own conception. And she was considered blessed while she lived, as in the Magnificat she states that "from henceforth all generations shall call me blessed," meaning from Our Lord's conception within her, not years after her death. God planned Mary, says St. John, from the very beginning. In illustrating this point John turns to the many passages from the Wisdom books used in the Mariam feasts and Saturday votive Masses in the Roman rite—a nice nod to modern Roman readers.

 

By the Incarnation of God the Son the gap between Man and God was filled by God putting on human nature, specifically our Lady's human nature. She is, says St. John, the bridge between God's and Man's natures! John takes the story of Jacob's Ladder as an Old Testament type, or image, of our Lady's role in Salvation.

 

The Saint from Damascus finds another type of Mary in the Old Covenant by virtue of her origin. Our Lady's parents Joachim and Anne, whose "name means 'grace,'" were a barren couple who bore the spring from which Salvation and grace would flow, much like how flowers sprung forth from the rod of Aaron. The end of Ss. Joachim and Anne's sterility also meant the end of the world's spiritual sterility.

 

Our Lady of Silence (Assumption)

Mary's body, so pure and holy by virtue of what Our Lord Jesus Christ did through it, could only be taken to heaven, as it belongs to the things of heaven. In another sermon, John concludes by describing the manner in which our Lady's death was followed by her Assumption (since Pius XII omitted it in his pronouncement):

"An ancient tradition has been handed down to us, that, at the time of the glorious falling-asleep of the blessed Virgin, all the Apostles, who were wandering throughout the world preaching salvation to the Gentiles, were caught up aloft in the twinkling of an eye, and met together in Jerusalem. And when they were all there, a vision of Angels appeared to them, and the chant of the heavenly powers was heard; and so with divine glory she gave up her soul into the hands of God. But her body, which bore God in an effable manner, being lifted up amid the hymns of Angels and Apostles was laid in a tomb in Gethsemane. There for three whole days the angelic song was heard.

"But after three days, the chant of the Angels ceased, and the Apostles who were present (for Thomas, the only one who had been absent, came after the third day, and wished to adore the body which had borne God) opened the tomb; but they could by no means find her sacred body in any part of it. But when they only found those garments in which she had been buried, and were filled with indescribable fragrance which emanated from them, they closed the tomb. Amazed at this wonderful mystery they could only think that he, who had been pleased to take flesh from the Virgin Mary, to be made man, and to be born though he was God the Word, and the Lord of glory, he who had preserved her virginity without stain after childbirth, should also have been pleased to honor her pure body after her death, keeping it incorrupt, and translating it into Heaven before the general resurrection."

 I hope you enjoyed this little vignette on a Father who needs more attention these days. The Rad Trad, who is not really that "rad," has yet to decide who to cover next week, given the possibilities, but will make a decision in due time. In the meantime, drop the theology manuals and read the Fathers!

Hirmos of Pascha

"The angel cried out to the one who is full of grace: 'Hail, O Immaculate Virgin! Hail again! For your Son is risen from the tomb on the third day!' Shine! Shine, O New Jerusalem, for the glory of the Lord has shown upon you. Rejoice and be glad, O Sion, and you O Pure One, O Mother of God, exalt in the resurrection of your Son."

The Hirmos, sung after the consecration in the Byzantine rite from Pascha until Pentecost, is rendered above. The second line refers to our Lady as the "New Jerusalem." What could this mean?

Jerusalem was the sight of God's covenant with the people of Israel and the location of His temple. Many a historian have remarked that Jerusalem was not a city with a temple, but rather a large temple surrounded by a city. The Jews worshiped within the outer walls of this temple regularly, but only on the Day of Atonement did the appointed priest enter the Holy of Holies to sprinkle the blood of sacrificed animals in reparation for the sins of the people of that city. Of course there was no true remission of sins until Christ's death on the Cross, yet we see typology of the forgiveness of sins within the walls of God's dwelling place.

The Virgin Mary's unique role in the process of our salvation is that she provided a place for this final remission of sins to commence. Within her bounds dwelt God in a way far more vivid than He did for the inhabitants of Jerusalem in 900 B.C. In this dwelling of God the remission of sins was no longer a petition but an eventual reality.

Typology aside, this has consequences for us. The temple and urban inhabitants comprised the city of Jerusalem. Our Lord would correspond to the Holy of Holies, the dwelling of God in His covenant with men, so who parallels the people of the holy city? We do. The Church fulfills this ancient type of God's "chosen people." From the Cross our Lord gave mankind to His Mother as her child and asked mankind to honor His Mother as his own (John 19:26-27). From this imparting of man to Mary inestimable devotion and theology arose, yet we can also apply this Johannine passage to the Paschal Hirmos. Mary, as the "New Jerusalem " is both the location of our habitat and God's dwelling place. Far from alienating our Lady from the human race, Christ's imparting of her to us solidifies His presence among us through her. She is a marker for the unity of the Church of Christ.

This is just a private reflection and one that I do not think conflicts with any great theological tradition, East or West. I wrote this modest passage to make a plain illustration of how doctrine and theology can spring from the germination of liturgy, in which we express and profess our belief to God. Liturgical prayer preserves statements of faith during times when those formulae might fall into disuse, and also builds upon other existing conceptions of faith. Above all the liturgies of the Church provide the basis for how we as human beings speak to God in heaven. If He grants us His graces then we should assume He is pleased with what we have said to Him.

A blessed Easter season to all!

Palm Sunday: An Exercise in Ignorance

Today is one of the great days in the Church's year, Palm Sunday. Today we re-live and commemorate both the Lord's entrance into Jerusalem and His Passion and death. It is also a day which highlights our personal ignorance of God, in spite of what seems obvious in retrospect. Two millennia later, we safely judge these concatenation of events. At the time their meaning was not so obvious, and would not be until Pentecost. Are we ignorant of the truth of God's actions?

Jean Baptiste Jouvenet's Raising of Lazarus

Just a few days before, on his way to Jerusalem, our Lord Jesus stopped in Bethany at the news Lazarus, one of his beloved followers, had fallen ill. By the time Christ arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had been dead and buried for four days. Yet Christ took pity upon him and his sisters, Mary and Martha. Jesus here reveals Himself to be more than a prophet, more than a healer, more than a local mystic or anti-establishment rabbi. he has dominion over death.

Christ asks Martha, "I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, although he be dead, shall live:

 And every one that liveth, and believeth in me, shall not die for ever. Believest thou this?" (John 11:25-26). She responds that she does believe. Christ turns to the tomb where Lazarus has resided in decay and rot for days and yells "Lazarus, come out!" And the man who was not near death, but dead, was now alive.

Not quite understanding the gravity of what transpired, but still chocked and interested (John ch. 12), the people came to see and greet our Lord when he finally arrived in Jerusalem. As Benedict XVI pointed out in his second Jesus of Nazareth book, Jesus sent two Apostles ahead to acquire a donkey and a horse, meaning He already had a following in Jerusalem. Other places in the Gospel indicate that outside the Apostles, Christ had a significant entourage, several hundred people or more. These were those who greeted  Him with palms and enthusiasm. The rest of the crowd sought a thrill or novelty. Actually, did not the Apostles and other disciples? They knew more than the people of Jerusalem, but they comprehended practically nothing. In my moments of cynicism I cannot help but interpret certain words of Jesus's like "How much longer must I endure this generation?" as "These people are ridiculous." The Church has understood this frustration over the years. St. Leo the Great remarks in a sermon "Let man's weakness, then, fall down before the glory of God, and acknowledge herself ever too feeble to unfold all the works of His mercy."

Reading from Exodus at the dry Mass at the Institute of Christ the King
seminary in Gricigliano, 2003

What was the purpose of the palms? I've always wondered. At some level there is a practical and honorific element to the placing of palms in the path of the Lord, almost saying that the ground on which Christ's donkey walks is unworthy to support the Lord. Yet we ought to recall some typology from Exodus. During the Mass today there is actually a "dry Mass" (Missa sicca) to bless the palms, a ceremony with an introit, reading, gradual, Gospel, preface, Sanctus, and blessing prayers, much like a Mass. the reading from the "dry Mass" is from the book of Exodus, at the moment when Moses and the Israelites arrive at an oasis of twelve fountains and seventy palm trees. The Israelites had left their bondage but would not have made their way out of Egypt without rest, a place of shade, and some water. In short, the palms provided that. As those palms and water provided the Israelites the means of leaving the bondage of slavery, so Christ provides His people with the means of leaving the bondage of death. The third of the five collect prayers to bless the palms contains not a few didactic lines:

The branches of palms, therefore, represent His triumphs over the prince of death; and the branches of olive proclaim, in a manner, the coming of a spiritual unction. For that pious multitude understood that these things were then prefigured; that our Redeemer, compassionating human miseries, was about to fight with the prince of death for the life of the whole world, and, by dying, to triumph. For which cause they dutifully ministered such things as signified in Him the triumphs of victory and the richness of mercy.

The procession from the aforementioned celebration of Palm
Sunday by the Institute of Christ the King in 2003

In the first millennium there would be two Masses in Rome. The first would be celebrated in the presence of the Pope at St. Mary Major, where palms would be blessed and distributed. The focus of this Mass would be Palm Sunday. There would then be a procession to St. John Lateran, the cathedral of Rome, where the Pope would celebrate a Mass about the Passion of the Lord. The current arrangement of a "dry Mass" followed by a procession and a Mass of the Passion is a remnant of that, unlike one uses the newer rite, which is very reduced.

A procession of clergy and laity, holding their palms and preceded by a veiled cross—as the mystery of the Cross is hidden!—leaves the church and takes a path eventually leading back to the front door, which is sealed, a representation of the resistance of the people of Jerusalem to our Lord. A small choir still within the Church sing the hymn Gloria, Laus, et Honor Tibi Sit in alternation with those outside. The entrance of Christ, the unease of the Jewish people, the laud of Christ's followers, and the Lord's lament for Jerusalem are not simply re-enacted, but re-visited! At the end the subdeacon knocks on the door of the Church with the cross, opening it. From here the Mass of the Passion begins.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

Hail, King of Israel! David's Son of royal fame! Who comest in the Name of the Lord, O Blessed King.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

The Angel host laud Thee on high, On earth mankind, with all created things.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

With palms the Jews went forth to meet Thee. We greet Thee now with prayers and hymns.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

On Thy way to die, they crowned Thee with praise; We raise our song to Thee, now King on high.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

Their poor homage pleased Thee, O gracious King! O clement King, accept too ours, the best that we can bring.

Glory, praise and honor to Thee, O King Christ, the Redeemer: to whom children poured their glad and sweet hosanna's song.

A short clip of the door knocking ceremony

Subdeacon opens the door with the processional cross
at the FSSP church in Rome, 2012

 The Mass is one of the most beautiful of the year, and especially notable for its music, including the singing of psalm 21 as the tract, the full Passion according to St. Matthew, and the Gospel in the "haunting" tone.

The prayers at the foot of the altar are the reduced form used in Passiontide, the last two weeks of Lent. This form omits the Iudica me psalm and the Gloria Patri.... doxology, which is also omitted in other parts of the Mass as at a requiem Mass. As Fr. Andrew Southwell, OSB once said, Mother Church "is in mourning."

The Epistle is from St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, in which the Apostle writes that at the "name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and under the earth." Christ's sacrifice on the Cross for man gives Him primacy over all things in God's creation.

The gradual today, as in very ancient days, is a full psalm and not just an excerpt. It is psalm 21, which Christ quoted from the Cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" The Father did not desert the Son, but today the psalm functions as an allusion, as the psalm describes the pains of a man suffering for the sins of the world.

Deacons reading the Passion according to St. Matthew

Then three deacons enter the sanctuary and begin to sing St. Matthew's account of the Passion of our Lord, beginning with the events leading up to the Last Supper and ending just after Christ's death on the Cross, for which there is silence and all present kneel.

The three deacons then leave and the deacon of the Mass asks for the blessing, incenses the Gospel book, and sings in a special chant-tone the burial of Christ. The separation from the Passion reading may not be intuitive, but it is instructive: this is the Gospel reading of the Mass, not the Passion—which is an interpolation into Mass. Christ's death and burial are the point of this Mass, which should clear up confusion for us, as opposed to those who watched these events two thousand years ago with little or no break, and who were left in bewilderment as to what to make of the drear they had just witnessed.

In the video to the right, Fr. Tim Finigan sings the Gospel of Holy Tuesday in the same tone used for the Gospel of today. It is sublime.

The Mass continues as normal, with no extra "frills."

At Vespers the hymn Vexilla Regis is sung, which beings with the words:

Abroad the regal banners fly,

Now shines the cross’s mystery;

Upon it Life did death endure, 

And yet by death did life procure.

The hymn makes a conclusive elucidation of the mystery of Palm Sunday, that the Cross is slowly unveiled before our eyes. We do not merely read about it in the Scripture or hear some analysis in the sermon, but we enter these mystical events which are so monumental that they do not know the limits of time. Perhaps one of the great tragedies in the Roman rite in the last century or so is that with the endless stream of reforms begun by St. Pius X, furthered by Pius XII, and concluded by Paul VI, we have lost the notion that the liturgy reveals mystery to us, that it is a method of worshiping God, but also a tool God gives us to understand Him.  The raising of Lazarus, the veiling of the Cross, the Old Testament significance of the palms, the restless and lamenting entrance into Jerusalem, and the Cross itself make "sense" to us here. Through the lessons, the Mass, the hymns, and procession today God lifts the veil of ignorance the people of Jerusalem had when they went to see the One who raised a man from the dead and, in their own understanding, turned Him over for death, not realizing His dominion over it.

A blessed Palm Sunday.

Friday in Passion Week

Tomorrow is Friday in Passion week, a rare day in which the Church permits a festive Mass to be celebrated during Lent, the Mass "Seven Dolours of the Blessed Virgin Mary." Because next week is dedicated to Our Lord's Passion and the week after to his glorious Resurrection, the Church provides a time for us to consider the sufferings endured by His Mother in union with Him, as where is the Mother there is the Divine Son. Our Lady's Seven "Dolours," or "Wounds," are:

1. The Prophecy of St. Simeon when Our Lord was presented at the Temple (Luke ch. 2)
2. The flight of the Holy Family into Egypt (Matthew ch. 2)
3. The disappearance of Jesus for three days in the Temple (Luke ch. 2)
4. The Blessed Virgin meets Her Son on the way of the Cross
5. The Death of Jesus on the Cross (John ch. 19)
6. The deposition of Jesus from the Cross and His placement in Mary's arms (Matthew ch. 27)
7. The burial of Our Lord in the Tomb of St. Joseph of Arimathea (John ch. 19)

A Russian Orthodox icon of Our Lady of Sorrows

The Gospel of the Mass, St. John's account of the Crucifixion, when Jesus says to John "Man, behold thy mother" and to Mary "Woman, behold thy son," reminds us that <an, represented by the young Evangelist, was given to Mary as her child. As the new Eve, Her too redeemed by Christ, has a unique role in humanity before God. She is what Eve should have been and more. While She was born sinless, like Eve, She not only did not sin, but Her union with the sufferings of Christ give Her a paramount place in God's creation. Indeed, She is above anything else God has created, even the Angels. Therefor, having maintained her virginity, purity, sinlessness, and being united to Our Savior in His Passion, the Virgin is a powerful intercessor with Her Son and with the Father for us.

The offertory chant of the Mass, taken from chapter 18 of the prophecy of Jeremiah, sums up her purpose for us succinctly:

Be mindful, O Virgin Mother of god, when you stand in the sight of the Lord, to speak good things for us, and to turn away His anger from us.

Lastly, Mary's sufferings are commemorated a week before Good Friday, fittingly. This Mass is an opportunity to take our minds off our fasting and penance, the purpose of which is to aid us in listening to God, and turn our attention to Our Lord's impending Passion. The time of preparation is ending. The time of the Cross is about to begin.

I will leave you with the sequence from the Mass and a translation I like.

At the Cross her station keeping,Stood the mournful Mother weeping,Close to Jesus to the last.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearingNow at length the sword had passed.

Oh, how sad and sore distressed
Was that Mother highly blessedOf the sole begotten One!

Christ above in torment hangs,
She beneath beholds the pangsOf her dying, glorious Son. 

Is there one who would not weep‘Whelmed in miseries so deepChrist’s dear Mother’s pain untold.

Can the human heart refrainFrom partaking in her pain,In that Mother’s pain untold?

Bruised, derided, cursed, defiled,She beheld her tender Child,All with bloody scourges rent. 

For the sins of His own nationSaw Him hang in desolationTill His spirit forth He sent.

O sweet Mother! fount of love,Touch my spirit from above,Make my heart with yours accord.

Make me feel as you have felt;Make my soul to glow and meltWith the love of Christ, my Lord.

Holy Mother, pierce me through,In my heart each wound renewOf my Savior crucified.

Let me share with you His pain,Who for all our sins was slain,Who for me in torments died.

Mix’d with yours let my tears be,Mourning Him Who mourned for me,All the days that I may live.

By the Cross with you to stay,There with you to weep and pray,Is all I ask of you to give.

Virgin of all virgins blest!Listen to my fond request:Let me share that grief of yours.

Let me, to my latest breath,In my body bear the deathOf that dying Son of yours.

Wounded with His every wound,Steep my soul till it has swoonedIn His very Blood away.

Be to me, O Virgin, nigh,Lest in flames I burn and die,In this awful judgment day.

Christ, when You shall call me hence,Be Your Mother my defense,Be Your Cross my victory.

While my body here decays,May my soul Your goodness praise,Safe in heaven eternally.Amen.

Learning from Mary

Just a quick little reflection which comes from the Rosary:

We find little trouble in taking satisfaction, especially after some struggle or degree of difficulty in doing a task or surviving some hardship. This is natural. We tend to enjoy any opportunity to luxuriate, and if we get to do this after some period of unpleasantness then we are all the happier [and more smug] for it!

This seems to be neither the way nor the will of God though. Our Lady's hardships never seemed to end. First she was given a pregnancy to bear, while unmarried and around age 14 or 15. After finally marrying she was made to undertake a trip, while in a delicate condition, from her home to Bethlehem, the land of her husband's fathers. After childbirth, painless in her case, Our Lady had to contend with another physical and another spiritual dolor: the threat to her divine Son's life and the subsequent passage to Egypt, which is full of rich symbolism in itself. Perhaps finally believing the threats to her and her Son had subsided, she engaged in the Mosaic purification ritual in the temple and presented her divine Son, again according to the law, only to learn from Simeon that her Son would be the subject of the "fall and the resurrection of many in Israel" (Luke 2:34). We could continue this exercise in tracing the Virgin's struggles, but I see no point in doing so.

In short, whenever Our Lady was doing God's Will she never had it easy, nor did she find sufficient opportunity to relax or luxuriate. Whenever some place for peace or relaxation presented itself to her, it was quelled by some new cross, as happened in the temple.

Doing God's Will requires some struggle, some suffering, some hardship for many reasons, not the least of which is that doing His Will is quite demanding and difficult in and of itself. He's God, for goodness sake. His standards are high. Once in a while He will grant us consolations to our pains or moments of inspiration to notify us that we are following the proper path. The most famous of these was when Our Lady sang the Magnificat for the first time to her cousin, St. Elizabeth. The work of God may be difficult, but it certainly should not be considered miserable!