248. How sacraments make us Christlike
248. HOW SACRAMENTS MAKE US CHRISTLIKE
Do the sacraments actually do things to us? Do they change our very being?
Whether the sacramental character is the character of Christ?
Some define character thus: A character is a distinctive mark printed in a man’s rational soul by the eternal Character. . . . But the eternal Character is Christ Himself. . . .
A character is properly a kind of seal, whereby something is marked, as being ordained to some particular end; thus a coin is marked for use in exchange of goods. . . .
Now the whole rite of the Christian religion is derived from Christ’s priesthood. Consequently, it is clear that the sacramental character is specially the character of Christ, to Whose character the faithful are likened by reason of the sacramental characters, which are nothing else than certain participations in Christ’s priesthood, flowing from Christ Himself. . . . [T]hus soldiers who are assigned to military service are marked with their leader’s sign, by which they are in a fashion likened to him . . . by the military character a soldier of the kind is distinguished from the enemy’s soldier, in relation to the battle. In like manner the character of the faithful is that by which the faithful of Christ are distinguished from the servants of the devil, either in relation to eternal life or in relation to the worship of the Church that now is (III,63,3).
The sacraments produce in us “the sacramental character”, and “the sacramental character” is “the character of Christ”. Therefore the sacraments produce in us the character of Christ. But what does this mean?
It means that the sacraments are not merely like light, which lights up whatever objects it meets, but like a movie in a projector, which reproduces itself, its own peculiar face, on the screen.
Your species, your humanness, is what you essentially are. Your character is who you are. It is your “personality”, in the deeper and more spiritual sense of that word rather than in the superficial sense of individual quirks, likes and dislikes, and “lifestyle”. You are not responsible for your species but you are responsible for your character, because every free choice you make shapes your character, as a paint brush shapes a picture.
But “do-it-yourself” character building has two basic limitations: the species or nature with which we make our choices is fallen, sinful, selfish, and stupid; and we cannot by our own power attain the deepest and final end of our desires, union with God, eternal happiness. Thus, unless we received grace from God, we would all be living tragedies and comedies, as it is depicted in Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. It would be “vanity of vanities”, as in Ecclesiastes (until the last few verses, which answer the despair of the rest of the book).
George MacDonald says that God, like a good father, is “easy to please but hard to satisfy”. He will not be satisfied with us if we are merely justified, saved, guaranteed Heaven. We must also be sanctified. Christ was called “Savior” not merely because He would save us from the punishment due to our sins, but because “He shall save us from our sins” (Mt 1:21). Christ tells us we must “be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:48). This is what the sacraments gradually do in us: they make us Christlike.
To update St. Thomas’ medieval image and analogy, by them we are branded with the face of the Lord of the ranch. Even Calvin calls sacraments more than symbols: they are “signs and seals” of grace. The King alone could seal his documents with his unique signet ring. This is what Christ does to us in the sacraments. (He does it gradually but powerfully, like the tides.)
This is why the single most practical answer to the question: How can I become a saint? is frequent and passionate reception of the Eucharist and Confession. If you want to get wet, go out into the water.
