And on this higher plane, in the light of the full divine revelation, the danger of overlooking that irremovable duality of things terrestrial, and of confining one’s vision to either of the two aspects of man’s metaphysical situation, appears again. (We are speaking here, to be sure, of truly religious Christians only: not of Christians engrossed in earthly concerns to the point of growing all but forgetful of man’s eternal destiny.)

Some Christians overlook the hope implicit in the Redemption

There are Catholics upon whose minds the tangible reality of terrestrial life, with all the disharmony implied in it, so much obtrudes itself as to make the reality of the Redemption—and of the supernatural community that unites all members of the Mystical Body of Christ with God—pale in significance.

Their gaze is fixed upon the ocean of human suffering, and the incertitude of our eternal fate. They are entirely filled with the thought of how “fearful a thing” it is “to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31). “With fear and trembling” (Tob. 13:6) do they walk along their lives’ path. Their sins and the specter of their failure continually haunt their vision.

Well as they know that Christ has redeemed us and pronounced the words, “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25), their minds dwell almost exclusively on the remoteness of mankind from God, the power of evil, the multitude of daily insults to God; on the helplessness of man and his dependence on the brute forces of nature; on their own weakness, the impotence of the human will, the tragic character of all terrestrial life.

Other Christians overlook the disharmony still remaining after the Redemption

Others, on the contrary, overlook the fact that we are still pilgrims in the valley of tears. They tend to behave as though Redemption meant that we are already in our heavenly home; as though we no longer had to fear anything; as though all disharmony were removed from the world; as though life no longer had any laborious tasks in store for us but was meant to be one everlasting feast of jubilation.

“Blessed are they that mourn. . .” comforts the afflicted

Both these classes of Christians respond inadequately to the duality which, even after the Redemption, remains in our terrestrial situation, according to the words of Our Lord: “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:5), which should be considered, here, side by side with these others, spoken by the Apostle of the Nations: “Rejoice in the Lord always: again, I say, rejoice” (Phil. 4:4).