Part of the reading from the handbook today dealt with the purpose and necessity of the auxiliary members of the Legion of Mary. It is abundantly clear from the text that the inspiration for the auxiliaries comes again from the Roman army, although, in the army context, the distinction between regulars and auxiliaries is far from that simple. In point of fact, there are two different kinds of auxiliaries in the Roman army. One kind are armed soldiers that can be called up in case of emergency. This is the primary meaning of auxiliaries. The other kind of auxiliaries, on the other hand, is the variety of persons (mostly specialists), who have a permanent place in the marching army's baggage train. As the handbook points out, these were the blacksmiths, arrow makers, surgeons, herbalists, and engineers (needed to construct fortifications, siege engines, bridges and, in some notable cases even roads) and sappers (engineers specialized in digging tunnels that either undermine enemy fortifications or that provide a means for surprise attack by introducing a small force behind enemy lines). It was with the help of these auxiliaries, the engineers (fabri, in Latin) that Julius Caesar built two bridges across the Rhine in 55 and 53 BC and also built roads in southern Britain in 55, because there were no usable roads there when his armies arrived.
It is a commonplace in the Christian worldview that, for as many human beings who, throughout history, play active roles, there are other people who provide the necessary support. We see this at the very beginning of Creation, when the first human being is intentionally halved by God, so that he will have a helpmate.
In some cases, there is deliberate ambiguity that obscures and blurs the roles. Who is active? Who is auxiliary? In the Early Church, the nascent monastic movement was looked upon as the frontline soldiers, who actually took the fight to the enemy by going out into the desert to do single combat with the demons. Rufinus, the early historian of monasticism, refers to the monks as "those who keep the world in being," because they are the ones who go to fight on the walls against the demonic forces that would overwhelm the world. (Picture those scenes in the Two Towers, in which the massive Uruk-hai army besieges the small force of human beings in Helm's Deep.) Later tradition, however, would see those in the contemplative life as fulfilling a supportive/auxiliary role to those doing active work in the furtherance of the Gospel of Christ. On this point, who is active and who is supportive, I think the jury is still out.
The truth seems to be that we are all active and all supportive in some proportion. This would be the case in any army. Very often in Caesar's armies, for example, the regulars were called upon to repulse an enemy attack against the baggage train. In the same way, auxiliaries in the Legion of Mary do indeed pray for the active members, but one can't help but notice that the active members, judging by the names on the list for the Frank Duff prayer, spend a lot of time praying for the auxiliaries as well. It is also important for us to remember that, because of our unique histories and backgrounds, we are all potentially specialists for one another too. We are, in unique ways, fabri (engineers), who can perhaps build spiritual bridges and roads that others cannot. Need a siege engine? Need a tunnel to undermine the Enemy's power? We should look upon our fellow Christians as specialists, who can help us with those things in inimitable ways.
There is one last observation. We are in the habit, due to an enormous amount of spiritual literature that recommends it, of looking upon ourselves and others in the Christian life as warriors. I think we should also look upon ourselves as fabri. Every faber was also a warrior. If the baggage train was attacked, every person had to be able to effectively pick up arms. But being a specialist isn't for us, it's for others. In many ways, we are already specialists without even knowing it. No one can say every prayer or practice every devotion in the Church. Because of our unique backgrounds and life experiences, we are drawn to certain things in our interior life and not to others. This specialization is truly willed by God and is for the benefit of others. We should throw ourselves wholeheartedly into our specializations. Marvelous conquests await us.
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