Josemaría Escrivá is a writer who does not pretend to be more clever than he is. Nothing illustrates that admirable trait better than The Way, his principal work.
I was not sure what to expect. Should I decide to love The Way or to hate it? My uncertainty had not so much to do with the work itself as with the bad press received by the organization he founded, the Opus Dei. No matter how hard you try to push that organization's(founded or unfounded) notoriety to the background, it does colour your opinion of the book.
Should I like The Way just because I don't agree with the silly things that have been written about the Opus Dei? The funny thing is that even a sympathetic reader feels disappointed while reading the book, as if one had secretly hoped to find something lurid on its pages. The book simply does not live up to the bad press. Then it hits you: the book comes across as banal. If you compare it to Blaise Pascal's Pensées, which has a similar structure of short utterances, The Way amounts to a "nice try" or a "valiant effort", nothing more. Compared to the unutterable riches of the Pensées, The Way comes across as preachy and dull.
Then you start reading The Way. Then you continue reading it. Then you start realizing that it is not so much the banality but the simplicity of it that is striking about the book. The short utterances that seem almost trivial when read in isolation gather the momentum of a wrecking ball when read together. What accounts for that force? I am not sure but I can think of a few reasons.
First, Josemaría practices what he preaches, at least judging by this book. When he says that simplicity is a virtue, he exhibits that virtue in this book. He does not try to be more clever than he is (to come back to that point). The utterances are consistent with each other. Josemaría speaks from experience. It is as if a "way" were being built before our very eyes: every part fits the others. Second, Josemaría does not sugarcoat his message. The book promises blood, sweat and tears (among other things) and we know from history how compelling such candour can be. Josemaría's message appeals above all to men, who are his primary audience in this book. Men's biggest fear is to appear feminine in trying to live up to the Christian ideal. Josemaría assures them that they can become like children, as Jesus teaches, and still be men. The book's stark tone reinforces his "manly" message. Third, a subtle theology of incarnation is at play here. For Josemaría, the doctrine of incarnation means that God is to be found in things that to us seem ordinary or even banal. Jesus was, in a sense, a regular guy. So should we. Christian life is not about bells and whistles but about hard work and Josemaría promises a lot of it.
The doctrine of incarnation has a more precarious aspect as well. Jesus lived among people, as do priests today. Just as Jesus was God's all-seeing eye incarnate, so to speak, so are priests today. An individual Christian is to have no secrets from the priest, who is like "other Christ" (alter Christus). Without a priest's guidance, an individual Christian is lost, if not doomed. Doesn't that make you feel paranoid? Even if it does not, you have to admit that the idea of living under the constant gaze of God, represented by a priest, is one heck of a tough way of life. Josemaría remains unflinching. Yes, he says, it can be tough. It was meant to be. Did not Jesus tell us to carry our crosses? However, Josemaría would also ask, don't we get so much more in return? Following Christ and keeping his commandments should not be toil, provided we do it out of love. Love makes all that effort more than worthwhile and, in essence, turns drudgery to play.
It is clear that this book is not everybody, if one thinks in terms of putting its teachings into practice literally. That does not matter. Even while reading it, you can hear that inaudible clicking sound in your head while your brain is getting rewired. The book does not tell you anything that you did not already know. Nothing comes as a surprise. These are things you knew pretty much all your life but tried not to think about because you thought they were too obvious. Josemaría's point is that God can be found in the little things, in things that seem "obvious" to us. For that reason, the book's central message is for everybody. I love it.