Preview: Father Faber on the Neglect of Gratitude

On Monday, November 11, Veterans Day here in the USA, Armistice or Remembrance Day (the end of World War I in the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month) in Europe and the Commonwealth, and the feast of Saint Martin of Tours, we'll continue our series on Father Frederick Faber's Little Book of Gratitude with chapter 3, "We Neglect Gratitude More Than Prayer". In All for Jesus (the 2000 Sophia Institute Press edition), much of this material is found on pages 164-174.

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We pray, Faber concedes, because "our own interests drive us obviously to prayer; but it is love alone that leads us to thanksgiving."

Faber is concerned that when we pray for some need or blessing, we may not offer thanks and praise when our prayer has been granted--he cites the case of the ten lepers in Gospel of St. Luke (17:12-19)--because all ten were cleansed, but only one (the Samaritan, an outcast among the outcasts) returns to thank Jesus. And this stuns the "Sacred Heart of Jesus" Faber notes.

Citing St. Paul's letters to the Ephesians, Corinthians, etc., he emphasizes that our thanksgiving should be constant. He advises this pattern of praise and thanksgiving is a "preparation for our real life in heaven" and that "the Church on earth reflects the Church in heaven" as "the worship of the one is the echo of the worship of the other." 

That, of course, brings us to the Eucharist, "a sacrifice of thanksgiving" and Faber emphasizes that "The Spirit of the Eucharist must be found everywhere." As we practice gratitude during the Mass it will increase our love of God and the "neglect of it betokens how little love we have."

Faber even cautions us not to think so badly of fallen-away Catholics who don't receive the Sacraments, but examine our own lack of fervor in thanksgiving. He warns against lukewarmness in view of all the blessings we've received and encourages meditation, pondering "things as Mary did", to "treasure up God's mercies, and make much of them."

As Faber had been a Calvinist before his days as a Tractarian and a Catholic Oratorian priest, the last section in this chapter is important. He contrasts the dark side of God's severity and majesty and how we know little of it because "He has told us so little about it" with how much He has told us about His love:

When love is in question, He has been copious, explicit, minute. He explains, He repeats, He gives reasons, He argues, He persuades, He complains, He invites, He allures, He magnifies.

Of His rigor He drops but a word now and then . . . He startles only out of love . . . 

There is no end to the variety of the disclosures of His goodness, the inventions of His compassion, and the strangeness of His yearning over His creatures. . . .

Faber urges his readers not to dwell on "predestination and eternal punishment" but instead "ponder all those numberless signs of our heavenly Father's love" and be truly thankful.

Image Source (Public Domain): James Tissot's "The Healing of the Ten Lepers"