Adapted from Sr. Marie Gabrielle’s talk, “A Thousand Times Happy”
St. Joan of Arc signed the paper.
It is a scary thought. After bravely running away from home to follow God’s will, persuading the king by miraculous means to hand over control of all the armies of France her, to a seventeen-year-old, illiterate farm girl; after leading said armies into battle, winning incredible victories, prophesying her own capture, and holding up against the heartless proceedings of her imprisonment and “trial,” she still, after so much heroism and reliance on God’s grace, caved and signed the document renouncing both her voices and her mission from God. After so much success and glory gained for God and country, she herself — ostensibly — fell. And you are wondering if, when push comes to shove, you can really expect to fare any better.
Dear Catholics, allow me to introduce you now to the ugly monster I call the Fear of Failure. He is also known as the Fear of Inconstancy, the Fear of Our Own Weakness and Inability to Bear Up Under Trial. It is one thing to be brave initially — to don our shiny armor, mount our gallant steed, and charge into the thick of the fray with our battle cry of “Deus vult!” It is another thing to persevere when our comrades-in-arms are falling all around us, and we ourselves can barely cling to the saddle; we are so exhausted.
Sometimes the Fear of Failure bites us before we have even started out. Moses, for example, pretty much argued with God that he was not the right one for the job. He sees the burning bush; God tells him, “I am going to send you to Pharaoh that you may bring forth My people out of Egypt.” Moses says, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and should deliver the children of Israel?” God says, “I will be with you.” Moses says, “Well, who do I say sent me?” God says, “Tell them HE WHO IS hath sent you.” Moses says, “They are not going to believe me.” So God gives him some signs to work in order that they will believe. Then Moses says, “B-bu-bu-but…I…I’m…not…el-eloquent.” And God tells him, “I will be in your mouth. I will teach you what to speak.” And Moses says, “I beseech Thee, Lord, send whom Thou wilt send” — in other words: anyone but me, please! And then Scripture tells us, The Lord, being angry with Moses permitted that Aaron should go too and do all the talking. The whole exchange would be comical if we did not have such immense sympathy with its protagonist. We can imagine exactly where Moses was coming from. We probably would have asked God not to send us either. Why not? The Fear of Failure.
Another example would be St. Ignatius of Loyola. When the fledgling Society of Jesus finally discerned that God did indeed wish them to be governed by a Superior, they took a vote. Surprise, surprise, St. Ignatius was unanimously elected. Fearing his own weakness and inadequacies, he managed to convince them all to vote again. And he was unanimously re-elected. Twice, he did this. Finally, his Franciscan spiritual director told him point-black that to continue resisting this office was to resist the will of God. That did the trick.
Even scarier than the fear of setting out, though, is when we see saints who actually started off well, but then, having put their hands to the plow, looked back, as it were. St. John Marie Vianney ran away from Ars three times, tricked into thinking that God would rather have him be a contemplative. Luckily, his penitents caught up with him and convinced him that his fears were just Old Smokey Breath trying to get him to abandon his post.
Then there was that monk who asked his superior (St. Pachomius) to pray that God would grant him the grace of martyrdom. The saint tried to show him that his wish was presumptuous, but the monk was so adamant that finally St. Pachomius told him, “Fine, I will pray for you. But take care not to fail should the occasion of martyrdom arise.” Which it did, (the next day, ironically enough). The monk was out and about on some business when he founded himself surrounded by a group of pagan barbarians who said with characteristic unoriginality: “Renounce your religion or die.” But when our poor would-be martyr saw the glittering sword over his head, he failed. He denied his faith to save his own skin. Naturally, he felt miserable about it, returning in tears to his abbot, who received him kindly, and probably said something like, “There, there. Did I not warn you not to presume on your own strength? Now, let us serve God more humbly for the future, shall we?”
At least that monk was able to rise after his fall. There are other stories in the lives of the Desert Fathers about monks who were not so fortunate. After being raised to the heights of contemplation, even gifted with ecstasies, miracles, levitations, and so on — pride entered and turned these would-be angels into wretched devils (cf. Lives of the Desert Fathers, 243-253). It happens. And if these people could be vacillating, inconstant, and even unfaithful after receiving way more grace than we have, it makes sense to conclude that we are toast.
If such thoughts plague you with any regularity, I am afraid you have been bitten by the Fear of Failure. The wound inflicted by this fellow is called Timidity, and it is known to cause a significant drop in body temperature, resulting in partial or total paralysis of the limbs.
Are you ready for the good news? Total Consecration to Mary is the antidote for the wound of timidity just as surely as it is for those of discouragement, superficiality, and anxiety. Even as Our Blessed Mother will make us hold fast to hope as the remedy for our discouragement, appreciate Her power as a cure for our superficiality, prepare our hearts so as to free them from anxiety, so will She make us persevere, lest timidity itself prevent us from doing so. What an amazing Mother! She can actually guarantee us whatever grace is necessary for us to keep our heads, keep our balance, keep our focus, and stay the course to the bitter end — She can do this for us, and She will if we love Her. Perseverance is just one more grace that the Mediatrix of Grace is delighted to dispense to Her children who are humble enough to appeal to Her for it.
So where does that leave St. Joan of Arc’s retraction of her mission? Why did Our Lady not prevent her from caving under pressure? Fair question. Here is what I think. If St. Joan of Arc had been able to discern clearly that God’s will was for her not to sign that retraction — she would not have done it. If you are familiar with the details of her trial, you know that Joan was severely sleep deprived, having been kept in prison for over four months with guards who harassed her constantly, not to mention the dozen or so interrogation sessions before judges who had set out to condemn her. On top of all this, it was not as though her voices were warning her as she lifted the pen, “It is a trap! It is a lie! Do not sign, Joan!” They were silent.
What? Yes. Providence permitted her to succumb. Just as St. John Marie Vianney was permitted to fall into the trap of thinking he could serve God better as a solitary. These things were allowed for our instruction, Ladies and Gentlemen. But the moral we should walk away with is a most encouraging one: no fall is irremediable. Perseverance does not mean never getting confused and wandering off the right road. It means you make it to the right destination in the end. You die in Ars. Or else burned at the stake in a public square condemned as a witch and excommunicated by the Church.
Happy — St. Louis Marie would say a thousand times happy — are those souls who are empowered by their confidence in Mary to face any trial. By their love for Her, they will triumph over the Fear of Failure and their own weakness. Or rather, She Herself will triumph in them.
