November 2026, No. 229
October 2026, No. 228
September 2026, No. 227
Who are the Heralds of the Gospel?
Help of Christians
Christmas Carols
While passing through a certain place, I opened a door and came upon a cat sitting on its haunches, its tail curled beside its front paws with the tip pointing upward. It looked at me as if it were a prince…
I felt an urge to take a photograph to show people the natural pulchrum present in that animal.
How is it possible for a cat – incapable of understanding art, style, or nobility, lacking as it does the faculty of reason – to assume such an impeccable posture, possessing a certain indefinable air of elegance and distinction?
If we leave the world of felines and examine bees, we are struck by the extraordinary organization of the honeycomb, as well as the tenacity of the insects themselves, always in search of flowers from which to extract the necessary nectar to produce honey.
A bee never attempts to take nectar from a plastic flower; on the contrary, they pass it by without even drawing close, because their instinct “informs” them that it is artificial.
Animals have perfect and unerring instincts; yet man, too – the highest of all material creatures – possesses unerring instincts.
If we approach a child’s cradle, we find a tiny being whose intelligence and consciousness have not yet developed. Nevertheless, such are its instincts that, if presented with a small ball and a large one, it will choose the large one; if offered a white ball and a golden one, it will reach out for the gold first and the white one only afterwards.
Why is this so? It is the result of a sense present in every innocent soul – a sense that leads one, even before attaining the full use of reason, to manifest preferences and to constantly seek the best and the pulchrum.
Later, when the faculty of reasoning awakens, the child will know how to distinguish – even without being taught – between truth and falsehood, good and evil, the beautiful and the ugly.
What is the beautiful?
St. Thomas defines the beautiful thus: “Id cuius ipsa apprehensio placet,”1 that is, anything a person apprehends and finds pleasing, producing an aesthetic emotion in the depths of their soul.
However, due to original sin, the human spirit has become fallible and often errs, forming subjective opinions and tastes far removed from standards of perfection. Regarding the objective criterion of beauty, Scholasticism defines it as the splendour of form upon the proportionate parts of matter.2
For example, a bust of Our Lady carved from a block of marble is objectively beautiful if the figure is so expressive and integral that it forms a harmonious whole.
If the sculptor creates an image with only half a face, or without a nose, or with an enormous ear, it cannot be called a beautiful work, for it lacks the splendour of form: it is fragmented, incomplete, or disproportionate.
Such is the philosophical definition of beauty as applied to works of art. The latter achieve the ideal standard when subjective and objective beauty harmonize, offering complete satisfaction to the beholder.
If we take a further step and ascend to the supernatural realm, we find the theological definition of beauty as the splendour of truth and the splendour of goodness. Beauty, according to the Thomistic tradition, is the splendour of all the transcendentals united.3
To truly grasp the splendour of truth, let us imagine a public square where a non-believer and a Catholic are debating. The latter presents sound arguments, citing Scripture, and it is admirable to watch him defend doctrine point by point. Yet, in this scene, there is no stirring splendour – nothing that could properly be called pulchrum.
However, if we turn to the trial of St. Joan of Arc, we find a defenceless nineteen-year-old maiden – unversed in theology – being judged by a pseudo-Inquisition made up of learned and intellectually prepared men.
When one of the judges asked if she was in a state of grace – clearly intending to trap her – she replied: “If I am not, may God place me in it; and if I am, may God deign to so keep me.”4
Had she declared with all assurance, “I am in a state of grace!”, she would have contradicted Catholic doctrine, which holds that no one can naturally possess absolute certainty of their being in the state of grace or not.
Conversely, had she stated, “I am not,” she would have confessed to mortal sin, thereby undermining the credibility of her mission. How was one to answer such a malicious question?
The Holy Spirit inspired her, and she managed to respond with luminous elegance and grace. Therein lies the splendour of truth – pulchrum!
The same applies to goodness. Let us look at examples once more.
A beggar woman is sitting on the steps of a church. The manager of a large commercial enterprise walks by, takes his wallet from his pocket, and gives her a gold coin.
Undoubtedly, this is a praiseworthy act of charity, performed with the desire to help the impoverished woman; yet it is not beautiful – for, given the donor’s vast wealth, the offering means little or nothing to him.
It would be truly beautiful if that were his only coin – like in the episode of the widow’s mite, which earned Our Lord’s praise, because that widow gave all she had to live on (cf. Mk 12:42–44).
What, then, constitutes true beauty in the matter of almsgiving?
Let us imagine another scene. On a night of heavy snowfall, with the temperature two degrees below zero, a poor beggar shivers with cold by the roadside.
A horseman, clad in high-quality warm clothing, reins in his mount, dismounts, and – removing his coat, gloves, and even his boots – offers them to the destitute man, saying: “Cover yourself, or you may well die.” Then, unshod and dressed only in his shirt and breeches, he mounts his horse and rides away.
It is precisely the act of giving all that makes the gesture truly beautiful. Such a radiant act of virtue allows us to grasp the beautiful, for present within the heroism with which it is performed is the splendour of goodness – and, consequently, of holiness.
Indeed, the splendour of truth and goodness manifests itself above all in that which reflects God – Beauty itself – in an integral and complete way; it draws us closer to Him and unites us to Him, allowing us to almost “touch” Him.
More important than speaking or doing is being
One might ask what is the use of these reflections, and whether our contribution to the universal Church should not consist far more in writing literary works, doctrinal books, or manifestos – or in engaging in apostolate activities by expounding on the Catholic Faith with clarity and logic.
Undoubtedly, all such actions are useful and even indispensable, yet they are insufficient to meet the needs of the Mystical Body of Christ.
Imagine a group of people who knew nothing about music and had never seen an orchestra perform, yet each one of them was determined to learn an instrument – flute, trumpet, cello… And so the teacher tells them:
“To understand music, you must find your place in a scale of notes that ascend and descend by semitones; the Greeks had a somewhat different music theory, and so on… Now, take this score and perform Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, for I have already explained to you what notes are.”
Would these students manage to play the piece? What should a good master do? After explaining musical theory, he ought to show his pupils a top-tier orchestra performing Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony.
Only then – drawing on what they had seen and heard, and having already conveyed the concept of melody – should he gather the aspiring musicians and begin rehearsals.
Likewise, one cannot conceive what a true Roman Catholic should be based merely on knowledge of Church doctrine. It is a matter of translating the truth – once contemplated and understood – into concrete acts, customs, and ways of being.
Herein lies the importance of the living symbol; for of all that exists, the greatest symbol of God for man is man himself, created in His image (cf. Gn 1:27).
For this reason, there is nothing more representative of – or closer to – the Lord than a saint, for the saint is the supreme example of goodness, truth, and beauty on the face of the earth.
It is, therefore, the moral duty of every Catholic to bear faithful witness to what they profess, not only by passing on what the Church teaches, but by embodying that teaching. Hence, the most important aspect of apostolic action does not consist in speaking or in doing, but in being!
Only then can they go out into the world and contribute to the consecratio mundi spoken of in Lumen Gentium5– that is, the sanctification of the temporal order – aware that only that which is sacral can make other things sacral.
Through gestures, attitudes and behaviour, through the Liturgy carried out well, through art and beauty, people will more easily draw near to God and find the true light that points the way to holiness and goodness.
Almsgivers of God’s beauties
In everything that God has created, among the lower orders of nature – minerals, plants and animals – He has embedded symbolism to enable human beings, by casting their eyes upon each thing, to understand something that they do not see.
Thus, the entire visible universe – the birds, the mosquitoes, the trees, the sun, the wind, the sand, the earth, the waters, the mountains, the ice – is a mirror, an image and a symbol of the invisible universe.
That is why St. Paul states in his Epistle to the Romans: “Ever since the creation of the world His invisible nature, namely, His eternal power and deity, has been clearly perceived in the things that have been made” (1:20).
If everything has been given to us by the Creator, it is our duty to give everything back to Him, interpreting these signs and symbols, and using them as a means to lead others out of their selfishness and to the knowledge of God, loving Him as much as is possible on this earth.
Our age is in want of beauty, and lives in utter spiritual poverty and a complete lack of virtue; there is no longer any decency, and goodness has withdrawn from the face of the earth.
What social class does not need truth and holiness? How much distress, how much anxiety! How many crises, how many threats! What drama, and what tragedy!
We must satisfy this hunger for the supernatural by nourishing in souls the virtues and gifts bestowed through Baptism.
Amidst the chaos and moral decay of the modern world, we must place our trust in Our Lady and raise the banner of pulchrum aloft, becoming almsgivers of God’s beauties.
It falls to us to ensure that everyone, both the poor and the rich, of noble or common class, prisoner or free, both the lowly and the great, the destitute and the opulent, may all have the marvellous within reach and find an environment that reflects the ideals they cherish.
To clothe, feed, support, and protect spiritually – this is the most essential charity, the greatest alms one can offer humanity, in accordance with the precept Our Lord gave us: “love one another as I have loved you” (Jn 15:12); “You shall love your neighbour as yourself” (Mk 12:31).
This is also how to prevent people from losing hope and surrendering to the devil, following the paths of sin and vice. Only aesthetic emotion, on the one hand, and moral emotion, on the other, lead to lasting happiness.
The path to happiness lies in striving for both pulchrum and holiness, loving the truth, and embracing the Gospel – truly living it rather than merely admiring it.
This was affirmed by the Second Vatican Council and later cited by John Paul II in his Letter to Artists: “Beauty, like truth, brings joy to the human heart and is that precious fruit which resists the erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in admiration!”6
To instead erect a barrier that denies the poor access to beauty would be to commit the greatest crime imaginable, for this would mean “killing” humanity itself.
Excerpts from oral expositions given between 1999 and 2007.
