As a layman in the pews, I often find myself wondering why the clergy do not preach more often on the symbolic meaning of the rites, gestures, and objects of the liturgy, not to mention the texts (especially the Propers of the Mass — in those fortunate places that utilize the Propers). Since the liturgy is the most obvious common object of perception and meditation for everyone present, it seems both useful and decorous to preach in such a way that the faithful may be led into a deeper understanding of what they are seeing and doing. Admittedly, this could get heavy-handed and risk didactic overload, but at least some of the content of a given liturgy could be brought in — I’m referring here not to the readings, which are what get the lion’s share of attention, but the other elements of the liturgy that take place around the readings, as it were. A sign that this is fair game can be seen in the remarkable amount of patristic and medieval preaching that concerns itself with unpacking the meaning of the liturgy for the faithful.
A good opportunity is rapidly approaching: I refer to the great Easter Vigil with its kindling of the new fire and the lighting of the Paschal candle. We have probably all heard some reference in homilies to fire and light, but it seems to get stuck in generalities, which have the effectiveness of clichés. Why not follow in the footsteps of St. Thomas Aquinas and ponder the deep symbolism behind fire — particularly, the reasons why God Himself is compared with fire? In his Scripture commentaries, the Angelic Doctor frequently comments on why God and His action are compared with fire.
At Super Isaiam 33, three reasons are given: fire purges, sets other things aflame, and condemns.
At Super Hebraeos 12, lec. 5, where fire is said to have, among sensible things, more nobility, more brightness, more activity, more altitude, and more purifying and consuming power.
At Super Isaiam 30, five reasons are given for symbolizing charity as fire: it illuminates, boils up or heats [exestuat], turns things towards itself, makes one ready to act, and draws upwards.
Super Ieremiam 5 gives five reasons why the word of the Lord is said to be a fire: it illuminates, sets aflame, penetrates, melts, and consumes the disobedient.
Such descriptions of fire frequently parallel Thomas’s discussions of the effects of love. For example, in both Scriptum super Sent. III.27.1.1 ad 4 and Summa theologiae I-II.28.5, Thomas speaks of the way in which intense love causes fervor or burning, how it melts or “liquifies” the heart, and how it makes the lover penetrate into the inmost recesses of the beloved. This, indeed, is why extasis or ecstasy (for Aquinas, one of the many effects of love) is so aptly compared with fire, which seems to be ever rising up above itself and disappearing into the air, always tending outwards and upwards. Thomas charmingly notes that it is the custom of lovers to be unable to keep their love silent, but it bursts forth from them because its flames cannot be contained under their breast.[1] And elsewhere: “Burning comes from an abundance of heat; hence the Spirit is called burning, because, owing to an abundance of divine love, the whole man burns up into God.”[2]
The most ample comment on the symbolism of fire for God comes from Thomas’s Commentary on Isaiah, chapter 10: (continue reading)