We can see only that for which we have an eye; can grasp only that which is somehow related to us. Therefore, he who would behold the kingdom must be reborn into a new existence.
(Guardini, p 168)
As so often in the Gospel of John, the words are not symbolic at all. Our Lord is not talking about a new point of view, or seeing things from a new perspective.
Guardini sees the Holy Spirit as bridging the divide between the Father and men, so that "the creature enjoys community of life and of heart with his Creator" (p 170). Love between men can break down the barriers between them, so that what was "I, mine", versus "you, yours", becomes a singular "ours"; not a mixture or a blending, but a new thing.
Christ insists: a new creation, a second birth must take place (naturally, in the spirit). However, "spirit" here does not mean the opposite of body. Nor is it recognition and wisdom, nor yet what later philosophy was to call objective spirit: culture in all shades of the word's meaning. In the language of Holy Scripture, man and everything concerned with him is "flesh" - 'from below'. The Spirit Jesus refers to comes 'from above', it is sent by the Father: Pneuma, Holy Spirit.
(Guardini, p168-169, emphasis his)
Something similar, however divinely different, happens between man and God, though here it is the love of God himself which is active, the Holy Spirit. He creates the new existence in which man lives in God, and God receives man into his own. Foundation of such love is Jesus Christ, the Son of God become man. Through faith and participation in the act of salvation any Christian may share in the divine love: that is the new birth and the new love which springs from it.
(Guardini, p 170)
Now we come to the heart of the passage. How is all this possible? How can we ever enjoy a communion of love with what is utterly holy?
There on the one hand stands Christ with his chosen ones, radiating the beauty and plenitude of God; and here am I, entangled in myself, heavily forged to my own dark paltriness; how can I ever cross over to him? How, ever escape from myself to share in all that is he? Jesus replies: You never will - alone. Do not hope to be able, however slowly, to comprehend. Do not reason thus: what he says is true, I must hasten to join him. That would measuring Christ by your own standards, and it would not be he you encountered 'over there', but yourself - you would have walked in a circle. No, you must let go, renounce all hope of self-illumination, fling the measuring rod of reason and experience to the winds and venture the call: Lord, come - send me your Spirit that I may be recreated! .... Our part is simply to let go. Confidence in our own understanding, purity of attitude, excellence of personal effort, faithfulness to character, the sterling quality of the historical or cultural elements of the past - all this has been preparatory and important. But now the moment has come to put it aside. To become a Christian means to go to Christ on the strength of his word alone; to trust solely in his testimony. Blind acceptance of what remains unclear, unreasonable is part of this step and belongs essentially to the "foolishness" of the crossing over (1 Cor. 1:23).
(Guardini, p 171-172, emphasis his)
I wrote earlier about the beauty and truth of the faith. And the Faith is both true and beautiful, and its beauty draws many people to it. But as Guardini points out, all that truth and beauty doesn't mean a thing if it doesn't lead to interior conversion. It is easily possible to appreciate the breadth and depth of Catholic philosophy without actually leading a Catholic life. So what does it take to drive out the Old Man, replacing him with the New (to use St. Paul's terminology)? I came to the Faith because I had a terrible burden of sin and the Faith held out the hope of overcoming it; although I didn't think precisely in those terms at the time. Joining the Catholic church requires only some study and a singular act of faith. With the act of faith made and membership in the Church established, what then?
The answer comes from all the saints and the prophets: constant prayer, and frequent reception of the sacraments. (And by this I mean frequent reception of the only 2 sacraments that can be received frequently: the Holy Eucharist, and Penance).
Prayer is how you drive the Faith into your subconscious. It is the tool I used (and still use) to wedge out my old thoughts, thought patterns, and ways of thinking; and invite Christ in the Holy Spirit to replace them. Daily prayer - 10 to 15 minutes of good solid contemplative prayer - is an essential part of my armor in this spiritual battle.
Frequent reception of the sacraments is how God lends us his strength. Frequent Confession leads us to desire only Christ in our lives, and helps root out our attachment to venial sin. I picture venial sin as weeds in a garden; you can still appreciate the garden - venial sin does not destroy the soul - but it takes away to vitality and beauty of the flowers. Frequent reception of the Adorable Sacrament conforms us ever closer to Christ and gives us a horror of sin that would separate us from Him who is all loving and deserving of all our love. I go to Confession every two or three weeks, and Mass usually 6 times a week (missing Saturday).
One last point Guardini makes in this wonderful, luminous chapter. Baptism - being re-born in the spirit - is the beginning of the journey. "To be borne again in God is also only a beginning, an infancy. We are children of God when we are "born of water and the Holy Spirit", but we have yet to become the sons and daughters of God that we have been empowered to become." (p172 - 173) This is one more thing I love about the Faith: the emphasis on growth in the Faith, continuous conversion, and the constant desire to imitate Christ more faithfully.
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