Fermenting the Spirit

I decided long ago that real things were better than fake things. My preference for authenticity began with oatmeal. I took the time one morning to slow-cook a pot of steel cut oats, and enjoyed it with a little brown sugar and fresh berries. There was simply no comparison to the one-minute stuff that comes from paper packets. Sure, my homemade oatmeal took thirty times longer to prepare, but to me it was time well spent.

There is a value in doing things yourself; a benefit to savoring the work of your own hands that goes beyond mere enjoyment. This has manifested itself in two very different beverages in my kitchen, coffee and mead.

When it comes to coffee, there is nothing you can do to improve the taste of your morning cup more than to grind your own whole beans. I started buying my whole beans unroasted because green beans have a longer shelf life, allowing me to buy in bulk and thereby save money. It takes less than 15 minutes for me to roast a week’s worth of coffee beans on my stove top in an old-fashioned popcorn maker, meaning that for just a few minutes of work I get to enjoy fresh roasted coffee all week long.

Mead making is a more recent interest of mine. It is an ancient beverage. The very name evokes images of Anglo-Saxon warrior bards singing the glories of hero-kings. Mead combines the work of nature and man in almost magical ways. This past Christmas, my wife gifted me with a mead-making starter kit (just another reinforcement that I married the right woman).

My pastor shares my interest in mead making, and so it came to pass that he and I spent a January afternoon becoming mazers -- those who make mead. Yet as of this writing I have not tasted a single glass. You see, unlike roasting coffee, making mead is a very slow process that requires patience. Most meads require six months to one year of aging before they are ready to drink. I hope that my first attempt at mead making is successful, but it will be another couple of months before I will find out. In the meantime I have a second batch fermenting and will likely make a third and even a fourth batch before I am able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. It takes a certain amount of faith to keep plugging along at this process without knowing what the results might be.

There is a lesson here for the spiritual life; another arena in which having the real thing matters. Recently I was reading Journey to God by Daniel Burke. In it the author speaks of the different stages of the spiritual life as described by the Doctors of the Church. He writes particularly of the purgative, illuminative, and unitive stages. These can be described as our turning away from sin (purgative), advancing in virtue (illuminative), and our ultimate rest in God (unitive). St. Thomas Aquinas describes the stages in these terms.

The first duty which is incumbent upon man is to give up sin and resist concupiscence, which are opposed to charity; this belongs to beginners, in whose hearts charity is to be nursed and cherished lest it be corrupted. The second duty of man is to apply his energies chiefly to advance in virtue; this belongs to those who are making progress and who are principally concerned that charity may be increased and strengthened in them. The third endeavor and pursuit of man should be to rest in God and enjoy Him; and this belongs to the perfect who desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ (qtd. in Burke, p. 87).

It is important to note that these stages are cumulative rather than exclusive. The metaphor of a ladder is often used to describe spiritual growth, but unlike climbing a ladder, one does not leave a lower rung behind when advancing upward to the next. This first purgative stage, for example, is ongoing. One never ceases to repent of sin or resist concupiscence at any point in their spiritual journey. One always has recourse to the sacrament of confession. In fact I often observe that the more one advances in the spiritual life the more frequently one makes use of the confessional.

While one never leaves the initial stages behind they are prerequisites for advancing to the next. One cannot grow in virtue, for example, without repenting of sin. One cannot rest in God without an increase in charity. These things take time, which brings us back to our coffee and mead.

Roasting coffee beans takes some thought and effort, but the results can be enjoyed almost immediately. I can roast a batch of beans this afternoon and be enjoying the fruits of my labor in the morning. This relatively immediate benefit is like the purgative stage of the spiritual life. Making a good Confession requires effort from the penitent, but the results -- reconciliation with God, a return to a state of grace -- are immediately recognized. Furthermore, if I want to enjoy fresh coffee, I need to keep roasting beans week after week. Failure to do so means enduring the Purgatory of poor coffee (or forgoing coffee altogether, but the Church does not advise severe mortification without the supervision of a spiritual director). Likewise, if I want to remain in a state of grace, I need to keep frequenting the confessional. One is never “done” resisting sin this side of heaven.

Mead making, on the other hand, is more like the illuminative stage. This is not a weekend project. Like fermentation, growing in virtue requires a commitment of time. There is a maturation that must take place. The spiritual advancements made can be almost imperceptible on a day-to-day basis, but after several months or years in spiritual formation you may reflect back on your life and marvel at how far you’ve come.

Mead making is an apt metaphor for spiritual advancement because in addition to time, it also requires trust. Making mead is partly the work of man and partly the work of yeast. I can follow the directions of the mead making experts, but at the end of the day I have to be patient and trust that the yeast are doing their job. All I can do is create the right environment for the yeast to thrive; I cannot transform sugar into alcohol myself.

Likewise I cannot make myself holy. Sanctification is partly the work of man but it is primarily the work of God. I can provide the right environment in my soul for the Spirit to thrive. I can follow the directions of spiritual experts, the saints. But then I must be patient and trust that God will transform me, like the yeast, into something glorious.

“Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed” (1 Jn 3:2). Just as I have no idea what my mead will taste like until it finishes aging, I do not know what I will be like when God has completed His work in me. But I pray every day for the grace to trust in God and not lose patience with the process.

Unlike instant coffee or instant oatmeal, there is no such thing as “instant mead,” nor is there instant sanctity. There are no shortcuts in the spiritual life. This must have been what Chesterton had in mind when he wrote, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.” It is difficult, in the way that most worthwhile things are. It requires effort, patience, trust and faith. But if you persevere you’ll come to wonder why you were ever tempted to settle for anything less. God wants authenticity for us. He wants us to be real, homemade and homebrewed saints.