Subsidiarity Is a Spiritual Armor

We’ve explored how subsidiarity is a moral and social architecture that protects the soul's natural environment—especially family and local community—so that grace can act freely. But subsidiarity is not merely passive protection. It is active participation in the spiritual combat.

The enemy of our soul—who uses the world, the flesh, and his own demonic cunning—seeks to isolate us, scatter us, and dissolve the natural bonds that teach duty and virtue. A life rooted in subsidiarity is not simply more human. It is a kind of armor for the interior life. It places us where sanctity begins: the home, the altar, the field, the workshop, the woodshed, the barn.

Subsidiarity allows for the building of a life that focused on the real—not in the abstract, but in daily life. St. Paul urges: “Walk in the Spirit, and you will not fulfill the desires of the flesh” (Gal 5:16). The flesh—understood in Scripture as disordered passions, appetites, and laziness—thrives in isolation, passivity, and indulgence. Modern life is designed to feed the flesh: entertainment, convenience, comfort without labor.
Subsidiarity, by contrast, demands presence, effort, and interdependence.

A father must labor for his family. A mother gives herself in love. Children are trained through rhythm, discipline, and joy in daily tasks. In this way:

-> The home becomes a monastery of moderation.

-> Work becomes a school of the body and the will.

-> Leisure becomes contemplation, not consumption.

Fr. Tanquerey teaches that mortification of the flesh is essential for the growth of virtue: “A soul that seeks perfection must impose some restraint upon the body and lower faculties.” Local life demands this restraint naturally—it costs something. But the cost earns grace.