Sexagesima Sunday.
Epistle.
2 Corinthians xi. 19-xii. 9.
Brethren:
You gladly suffer the foolish: whereas you yourselves are wise. For you suffer if a man bring you into bondage, if a man devour you, if a man take from you, if a man be extolled, if a man strike you on the face. I speak according to dishonor, as if we had been weak in this part. Wherein if any man is bold (I speak foolishly) I am bold also. They are Hebrews; so am I. They are Israelites; so am I. They are the seed of Abraham; so am I. They are the ministers of Christ (I speak as one less wise), I am more; in many more labors, in prisons more frequently, in stripes above measure, in deaths often. Of the Jews five times did I receive forty stripes, save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, once I was stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck; a night and a day I was in the depth of the sea; in journeys often, in perils of rivers, in perils of robbers, in perils from my own nation, in perils from the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils from false brethren: in labor and painfulness, in watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in many fastings, in cold and nakedness. Besides those things which are without: my daily instance, the solicitude for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is scandalized, and I do not burn? If I must needs glory, I will glory of the things that concern my infirmity. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is blessed for ever, knoweth that I lie not. At Damascus the governor of the nation under Aretas the king, guarded the city of the Damascenes to apprehend me. And through a window in a basket was I let down by the wall, and so escaped his hands. If I must glory (for it is not expedient indeed); but I will come to visions and revelations of the Lord. I know a man in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I know not, or out of the body I know not: God knoweth), such an one caught up to the third heaven. And I know such a man, whether in the body or out of the body, I know not: God knoweth; that he was caught up into paradise; and heard secret words which it is not granted to man to utter. Of such an one I will glory: but for myself I will glory nothing, but in my infirmities. For even if I would glory, I shall not be foolish: for I will say the truth. But I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he seeth in me, or anything he heareth from me. And lest the greatness of the revelations should puff me up, there was given me a sting of my flesh and angel of Satan, to buffet me. For which thing I thrice besought the Lord, that it might depart from me; and he said to me: My grace is sufficient for thee; for power is made perfect in infirmity. Gladly therefore will I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me.
Gospel.
St. Luke viii. 4-15.
At that time:
When a very great multitude was gathered together and hastened out of the cities to him, he spoke by a similitude. A sower went out to sow his seed. And as he sowed some fell by the wayside, and it was trodden down, and the fowls of the air devoured it. And some fell upon a rock; and as soon as it was sprung up, it withered away, because it had no moisture. And some fell among thorns, and the thorns growing up with it, choked it. And some fell upon good ground; and sprung up, and yielded fruit a hundred-fold. Saying these things, he cried out: He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. And his disciples asked him what this parable might be. To whom he said: To you it is given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God; but to the rest in parables, that seeing they may not see, and hearing they may not understand. Now the parable is this: The seed is the word of God. And they by the wayside are they that hear: then the devil cometh, and taketh the word out of their heart, lest believing they should be saved. Now they upon the rock, are they who when they hear, receive the word with joy: and these have no roots; who believe for a while, and in time of temptation fall away. And that which fell among thorns, are they who have heard, and going their way, are choked with the cares, and riches, and pleasures of this life, and yield no fruit. But that on the good ground, are they who in a good and perfect heart, hearing the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit in patience.
Sermon XXXV.
And some seed fell upon a rock.
—St. Luke viii, 6.
The sentence which forms the text is sometimes translated "and some fell upon stony ground"—that is to say, the good seed scattered by the sower fell in a place that was hard and rocky. The sower in the parable is Jesus Christ, the seed is the word of God. The great Chief Sower, dear friends, has gone away, but the good seed, the word of God, the doctrines of holy church, her precepts, her laws, the rules of morality, the standard by which we can tell good deeds from sin—all this good seed is still sown by God's priests, by the divinely appointed and ordained ministers of the word of God. Chiefly this sowing is done in the confessional and in the pulpit. In the confessional the sower scatters the good seed into each heart individually; in the pulpit the seed is scattered over the multitude gathered together. It seems a hard thing to say, but alas! in these days the word of God, the good seed, falls for the most part upon stony ground. The priest exhorts, entreats, persuades, threatens, tells of God's justice, speaks of his mercy, holds up the joys of heaven as a reward, points to the abyss of hell as a punishment; and it all falls upon stony ground. It falls upon the high crags of inaccessible rocks, upon the heart of the hardened sinner, upon the stony, adamantine hearts of those who have given up even the thought of repentance. It falls upon you, wretched man, who come to Mass for the sake of appearances every Sunday; upon you who drag a dead, corpse-like, blackened, devil-marked soul here before the altar of God every Sunday morning, without ever thinking of taking that soul to one of those confessionals which stare you in the face. Yes, the good seed falls upon you, and it falls upon a rock waiting to be calcined by the fires of hell.
The word of God falls upon the pavement, hard and stony as it is. It falls upon the hearts of frivolous, giddy, conceited girls. It falls upon the hearts of blaspheming, drinking, impure young men. It falls upon the hearts of men of business whose only aim is wealth, and of the women who are votaries of fashion; for what are the hearts of all such but a pavement, a thoroughfare, along which pass every evil beast, every low, degrading passion, and every unholy desire? O you girls and young men of this city and this day! you men and women of the world! you who come and hear the sermon, and afterwards go away with a simper on your powdered faces and a sneer upon your lips! you young ladies and young gentlemen "of the period"—to you I say, your hearts are stony ground. The good seed can never grow upon it. Nothing can flourish there but thorns and briers, whose end is to be burnt. O dear brethren, young and old, rich and poor! tear up the paving-stones, shiver to atoms your pride, your love of the world and its vanities; and when you hear the word of God, when the good seed is scattered, let your hearts be not stony, but soft and moist to receive it.
There are others whose hearts are like the pebbly beach. The seed falls there, and then the sea of their pride comes and washes it all away. They know what is said from the pulpit is true, they know the advice in the confessional is good, but they are too proud to change their lives, too proud to own that the priest knows better than they do. They say: Why should the church interfere between my wife and me, or between my children and myself? Why should the head of the family be ruled by the clergy? and the like. On such as these the word falls, but it falls on stony ground. To all of you, then, the Gospel says this morning, "He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." Open your ears and soften your hearts. Sermons are not for you to criticise; they are for you to profit by, for you to form your lives upon. The words of the priest are the words of God. The seed that he sows is the good seed. Woe to you if your hearts are stony ground! There is a rank growth which is called stone-crop, which clings to walls and stones; there is a weed-like, yellow grass that sprouts upon neglected house-tops. What do men do with such plants? They cast them forth into the smouldering weed-fire. And so will God cast into the fire that is never quenched those who receive the word of God on stony ground.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XXXVI.
A sower went out to sow his seed.
—St. Luke viii. 5.
You all know, my brethren, what this seed is, and who it is that sows it; for our Lord himself explains the parable, and you have just heard the explanation.
The seed, he says, is the word of God; and it is God that sows it. And what is the word of God? Protestants tell us that it is the Bible; and their idea of sowing it is to leave a copy of it with everybody, whether they can read and understand it or not. That is not the way, however, that the Divine Wisdom has followed. He has put his word, of which the Bible is no doubt a great part, in the hands and the heart of his church, and told her to preach it to all nations—not to leave copies of it with them.
The word of God is, then, the religious instruction which you are all the time receiving, mainly from the priests of the parish to which you belong. It is God that gives it to you through them. It ought to bring forth fruit a hundred-fold, like the seed falling on good ground. You ought not only to hear it but to keep it. Do you?
What was the sermon about last Sunday? Don't all speak at once. Well, I am not going to tell you, though I am pretty sure that many of you will never know unless I do. And if you don't remember the last one there is not much chance that you remember the one before that. In fact, I have no doubt that there are plenty of people in the church at this moment who do not remember any sermon at all. All that they ever listened to—or did not listen to—in the many years they have been going to church, went in, as the saying is, at one ear and out at the other.
And yet you talk enough about what you hear, some of you at least. You make yourselves a standing committee to decide on the merits of the various preachers that you sit under. You say to each other: "What a fine discourse that was!" or, perhaps: "That was the worst sermon I ever heard." But what either of them was about it would puzzle you to tell. Your ears were tickled, or they were not, and that was all.
Perhaps you think I am rather hard on you. You will say: "Father, surely you cannot expect our memories to be so good. And then we hear so much that one thing puts out another." Well, there is some truth in that. Even if you try to remember I know you will forget a good deal; but the trouble is that you do not try.
You do not hear sermons in the right way. You think whether they are good or not, but you don't think whether or not there is anything in them that is good for you; and if so, what it is. If, perchance, you do hear anything that comes home to you, you fail to make a note of it. You don't get any fruit from the word of God, though you often think your neighbors ought to. You say: "I hope Mr. or Mrs. Smith, Brown, or Jones heard that"; but you do not hear it yourself. You do not apply it to your own case. You do not try to find out whether anything has been said that it would be well for you to know, or to think of if you do know it.
Try, then, to amend in this respect. Listen, when you hear a sermon or instruction, to the word of God in it speaking to you. Do not think who says it, but what is said, and what use you are going to make of it. One day you will be called to account before God's judgment-seat for all these words of his that you have heard; look to it that they bear fruit in your heart. It is better than remembering them, to have them change your lives; but if they do that you will remember them. And they will do that, unworthy as his servants are through whom they come to you, if you listen to them in the right way. Remember, now, what this sermon is about, and don't forget it before next Sunday.
Sermon XXXVII.
A sower went out to sow his seed.
—St. Luke viii. 5.
Our Divine Saviour, in his explanation of this parable, points out four kinds of soil upon which the seed fell, three of which gave no harvest. The barren soils represent those souls which either do not keep the word of God—and they are the wayside; or, keeping it, do not bring forth fruit—and they are the stony and the thorny ground. Wayside souls are hardened by the constant tramp of sin and dried by the scorching wind of passion. On such ground the seed remains on the surface; it cannot penetrate. "So it is trodden down, and the birds of the air—that is, the devil, swift and noiseless in his flight—come and take the word of God out of such hearts, lest believing they might be saved." Stony soil looks fair enough, but it is shallow; the rock underneath hinders moisture, and the seed, though it sprouts, has but weak roots, which soon wither. There are souls "who hear and even receive the word with joy; and these have no roots," because their Christianity is shallow; right under the fair appearances of religion is the hard rock of worldliness and self-love. Now, the soil in "which we should be rooted," says St. Paul (Eph. ii. 7), "is charity." Again, there are "those who believe for a while, and in time of temptation fall away." The word of God has entered into your souls; it has converted you. But have not evil habits to which you cling, and cherished sins repeated at the first onset of temptation, taken all firmness out of your purpose of amendment and nipped in the bud your good resolution? I hope the mission will have more lasting fruit among you.
Thorny soil is full of the germs and roots of useless and hurtful plants. In such ground, says our Saviour, the good and bad seed started up and for a time grew together. Soon the thorns shot ahead, sucked up for themselves all the juices of the earth, shut out the warmth of the sun from the wheat, closed in upon it, and finally choked it. In our fallen nature are the germs of evil, the hot-bed of concupiscence. They are part of ourselves; we cannot get entirely rid of them, as no ground, however well worked, can be freed from bad seeds. There they are with the good, and will sprout up with it; the mischief is in letting them grow until they kill the grace of God and absorb our souls; then, indeed, we are in a state of spiritual suffocation; the divine seed is choked in us. Now, the thorns, says our Saviour, "are the cares, the riches, and the pleasures of life." As long as we are in the world we shall have to bear with its cares. Yet the great care, you know, is your salvation. All other concerns become choking thorns when they take precedence of this. Riches are not the best claim to heaven. Yet it is only the unjust getting, the absorbing love, and the sinful use of them that choke off the life of the soul. And in riches there is danger for the poor, strange as it may seem. As the shadow of St. Peter cured, so the shadow of wealth diseases by causing envy, want of resignation. The poor should beware of the "evil eye" of riches; it is poverty in spirit which is a passport to heaven. The pleasures of life, as you know from your own experience, unless checked by mortification, are fatal to the growth of God's word within us. The sunshine of the world is peculiarly favorable to the tropical vegetation of noxious or useless weeds.
Remember that your soul is a field in which Satan has put germs of evil as well as God, of good. Both are watching the growth and looking out for the final result. On you it depends which crop your soul will produce, wheat or thorns. The wheat will be gathered in God's granary, the thorns are only fit to burn. Be ye, therefore, good ground—i.e., "hearing the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit in patience."
Quinquagesima Sunday.
Epistle.
1 Corinthians xiii. 1-13.
Brethren:
If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. And if I should have prophecy, and should know all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I should have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And if I should distribute all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing. Charity is patient, is kind: charity envieth not, dealeth not perversely, is not puffed up, is not ambitious, seeketh not her own, is not provoked to anger, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth with the truth: beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth: whether prophecies shall be made void, or tongues shall cease, or knowledge shall be destroyed. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect shall come, that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But when I became a man, I put away the things of a child. We see now through a glass in an obscure manner: but then face to face. Now I know in part: but then I shall know even as I am known. And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three: but the greatest of these is charity.
Gospel.
St. Luke xviii. 31-43.
At that time:
Jesus took unto him the twelve, and said to them: Behold we go up to Jerusalem, and all things shall be accomplished which were written by the prophets concerning the Son of Man. For he shall be delivered to the Gentiles, and shall be mocked, and scourged, and spit upon: and after they have scourged him, they will put him to death, and the third day he shall rise again. And they understood none of these things, and this word was hid from them, and they understood not the things that were said. Now it came to pass that when he drew nigh to Jericho, a certain blind man sat by the wayside, begging. And when he heard the multitude passing by, he asked what this meant. And they told him that Jesus of Nazareth was passing by. And he cried out, saying: Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me. And they that went before, rebuked him, that he should hold his peace. But he cried out much more: Son of David, have mercy on me. And Jesus stood and commanded him to be brought to him. And when he was come near, he asked him, saying: What wilt thou that I do to thee? But he said: Lord, that I may see. And Jesus said to him: Receive thy sight: thy faith hath made thee whole. And immediately he saw, and followed him, glorifying God. And all the people, when they saw it, gave praise to God.
Sermon XXXVIII.
Jesus, son of David,
have mercy on me.
—St. Luke xviii. 38.
There are two points, dear brethren, in the conduct of the blind man of whom we have just read, that seem to be particularly noticeable. First, although he could not see Jesus, he nevertheless knew that he was passing by, and cried out: "Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me." Secondly, when "the crowd rebuked him, that he should hold his peace, he cried out much more: Son of David, have mercy on me." Now, that blind man is an image of the souls who are grievously tempted, and also of those who have fallen into the darkness of sin. Now, there are, as we all know, some who are dreadfully tempted. There are good, pious souls who are afflicted with the lowest and most degrading temptations. Crowds of evil imaginations fill their minds; the basest suggestions are made to them by the evil one; the foulest mind-pictures are produced in them; they are urged to be proud, to be vain, unloving, uncharitable, and the like. Such people are for the moment blind. They cannot see Jesus. He is hidden behind these gathering clouds. It seems to them as if the light of God's grace had gone out in their hearts, and they sit down by the wayside, weary and blind. Suddenly they hear sounds in the distance; it is the Mass-bell, the voice of the priest in the confessional, a word from the pulpit, the choir chanting out at High Mass or Vespers. These sounds mingle; they sound like the tread of a multitude, and in the midst of the clamor a still, small voice says: "'Tis Jesus of Nazareth who passes by." Oh! then, poor tempted souls, and you too, unfortunate ones, upon whom has settled the stone-blindness of mortal sin, never mind if you cannot see Jesus; never mind if your darkened orbs cannot gaze upon his sweet face nor meet the look of compassion that he casts upon you; stretch out your hands towards him, all covered with the roadside dust as they are, lift up your choked and faltering voice, and cry aloud to your Saviour: "Jesus, son of David, have mercy on me!" He will hear you; he will have mercy; he will touch your poor closed eyes and you shall receive your sight. But now another word of advice, both to those who are trying to get rid of besetting temptations and to those who are striving to shake off the chains of grievous sin. When you have given the first heart-felt cry, when you have made the first move in the right direction, when you have roused yourselves to make the first real effort either to shake off your temptations or to get free from the slavery of sin, then it will very likely happen to you as it did to the blind man: "The crowd will rebuke you that you should hold your peace." There are a good many well-known characters in that crowd. Their names are Timid Conscience, Old Habit, Fear, Despair, Human Respect, Cowardice, Weak Resolution, Want of Firm Purpose, False Shame, No Hope, and a host of others. Now, all these will rebuke the poor, blind, tempted ones and the stone-blind sinners. What, then, must they do? They must take example from the blind beggar in the Gospel. When the crowd rebuked him he cried out much more: "Son of David, have mercy on me!" He knew that he must cry out louder to make his voice drown the buzzing murmurs of the crowd. Jesus did not seem to hear him, so he shouted louder. O you that are blind from temptation, you that are blind in sin, you that have given the first cry, and whose voices seem about to be drowned by the voice of the crowd of old habits and want of trust, cry louder, cry much more: "Son of David, have mercy on me!" Then, no matter if your blindness be never so dark, Jesus will stand still; he will command you to be brought to him; he will say to you: "What wilt thou that I do to you?" And then will be the time for you to pray: "Lord, that I may see." O my God! grant that all the tempted and all the sinners may have the grace to make that petition. May God "enlighten all our eyes, that we sleep not in death," and bring us all "to see the God of Gods in Sion"!
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XXXIX.
And they understood none of these things,
and this word was hid from them,
and they understood not the things that were said.
—St. Luke xviii. 34.
If you have listened attentively to this Gospel, my dear brethren, it seems to me that you must have been astonished at this part of it. For our Lord certainly could not have told his apostles more clearly about what was going to happen to him than he had told them in the words which immediately preceded these. "The Son of Man," he says, "shall be delivered to the Gentiles, and shall be mocked and scourged and spit upon; and after they have scourged him they will put him to death, and the third day he shall rise again." What more clear account could he have given them of his approaching passion, death, and resurrection? And yet it made no impression on them at all. When the time of his Passion actually came they were quite unprepared for it, as much so as if he had said nothing about it beforehand.
How can we account for this? What reason can we give for this blindness to what was put so plainly before their eyes? It was as complete a blindness as that of the poor man whose cure is told in the latter part of the Gospel.
There is only one way to account for it. You know there is a proverb that "none are so blind as those who do not want to see." That was the trouble with them, and that was the reason why their blindness was not cured, as was that of the poor man of whom I have just spoken, and who did most earnestly wish and beg to receive his sight. They had a fixed idea before their minds, and they did not want to look at anything else. That idea was that their Master was going to have a great triumph, overcome all his enemies, and set up his kingdom in this world as a great prince; and they were going to have high places in that kingdom, to be rich, powerful, and be respected by everybody. What he said did not fit in with that idea, so they paid no attention to it. They thought he could not be talking about himself, that he must mean somebody else, when he spoke about the "Son of Man."
Perhaps you think this was very foolish on their part, and would lay it to some special stupidity or prejudice on the part of these poor, ignorant men. But I think, if you look into your own hearts, you will find them pretty much the same.
Most Christians, I am afraid, have got an idea very much like this in their minds. They know, indeed, that Christ did not come into the world to be a great king, as the world understands the word; that he did not acquire great wealth for himself or his friends; that he did not enjoy what we call prosperity and happiness. But they think that is what they themselves have a right to expect. They know, of course, all about the Passion of Christ, but they think it is all over now.
And yet there are words for us just as plain as those which the apostles heard and did not understand. We do not see their meaning, and for the same reason; that is, because we do not want to see it. They are not only once repeated, but so many times that I could preach you a long sermon made up of them alone. Their meaning is that the Passion of Christ is not over; that each one of us has our share in it; that the life which he means for us is the same kind of one that he himself led. St. Paul understood it well when he said: "I fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ."
Try, then, my brethren, to get the idea out of your minds that you have come into the world to enjoy yourselves and have a good time. It is an idea unworthy of Christians. Not those who prosper, but those who suffer, are the ones to excite our envy, for they are most like our Divine Lord. And, moreover, those who suffer are really the happiest, if they remember this, for their suffering is a pledge of eternal happiness. It is a sign that he has a place waiting for them in his kingdom very near to him.
And let us, like the blind man of the Gospel, ask him to take away our blindness, that we may really see this and believe it; that our eyes may be opened to the light coming from the next world. That will make pain and adversity beautiful and glorious; and we will even hardly wish to hasten the day when, if we are faithful, God himself shall wipe away all tears from our eyes.
Sermon XL.
Some very important notices have just been read to you, my brethren. Do you know what they are? You ought to by this time, for you have heard them many times before; and yet I am sure that some of you to whom they have been read ten or twenty times already know no more about them now than before you ever heard them at all. Why is this? It is because, as I said last Sunday, you do not listen, and do not try to remember, nor care to understand.
What were these notices, then? They were the notices about this great season on which we are entering: the holy season of Lent, the most important one of the whole year.
What is the first one of these notices which you have or have not just heard? You don't know. Well, it is this: All the week-days of Lent, from Ash Wednesday till Faster Sunday, are fast-days of precept, on one meal, with the allowance of a moderate collation in the evening. Fast-days—do you know what that means? I venture to say that many of you do not; or, if you do, you do not act as if you did. Some people that you would think had more sense seem to think that a fast-day is about the same thing as a Friday through the year, except that it is not so much harm to eat meat on a fast-day as on a Friday. It is hard to understand how any one can be so stupid.
What is a fast-day, then? It is a day, as you hear in the notices, on one meal. That does not mean two other full meals besides, and plenty of lunches in between. It means what it says—one full meal, and only one. The church has, it is true, allowed, as the notices say, a moderate collation in the evening What does that mean? As much as you want to take? No. How much, then? Eight ounces is the amount commonly assigned. That is to say, you have your dinner, and a supper of eight ounces in weight. Is that all? No, not quite. Custom has also made it lawful to take a cup of tea or coffee and a small piece of bread, without butter, in the morning. This is an important point; for if this will prevent a headache and enable you to get through with your duties as usual, you are bound to take it, and not get off from the fast on the ground that you cannot keep a strict fast on nothing at all till noon.
This, then, is what is meant by a fast-day. It may be a day of abstinence from flesh-meat, or it may not be. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday you can have meat, but at dinner only; and no fish, oysters, etc., when you have meat—the tea or coffee and the eight ounces the same those days as on the others. But on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday no meat at any time. And remember, nothing can be eaten on a fast-day but just as I have described—no lunches, large or small, between meals.
But you say: "I will get very hungry and lose a good many pounds on such a scant diet as that." Yes, that is quite likely; and that is just what Lent was made for, that you might get hungry and lose as many pounds as you can spare. That never seems to occur to some people. It wouldn't do some of you any harm to lose a few pounds; you will recover from it, I am sure. The papers say that one of the pedestrians (a woman, too, by the way) lost over thirty in a long walk she has just finished. Is it not as easy to suffer a little for the honor of God as a great deal for one's own?
But is there no excuse? Oh! yes. There are plenty. They are given in the last paragraph of the notices. If you are weak or infirm—really, that is; not with a weakness beginning on Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter Sunday—if you are too old or too young; or if from any reason, like hard work, you really need abundant food. In case of doubt consult a priest.
But these excuses do not allow one to eat meat. They excuse, as you hear in the rules, from fasting, but not from abstinence. And yet you will hear people saying: "They told me I was not bound to fast," and forthwith eating meat as often as they can get it, just the same as if it was not Lent at all. Understand, then, it takes a much greater reason to excuse from abstinence than from fasting. Never eat meat at forbidden times in Lent without getting proper permission. Ordinary work is no excuse.
I would like to say much more about these matters, that you might fully understand them, were there time to do so. But remember that the rules of Lent are binding, like the other laws of the church, in conscience; and if you break them in any notable way you commit a mortal sin. Suffer a little now, that you may not suffer for ever, banished from the kingdom of God.
First Sunday of Lent
Epistle.
2 Corinthians vi. 1-10.
Brethren:
We do exhort you, that you receive not the grace of God in vain. For he saith: "In an accepted time have I heard thee; and in the day of salvation have I helped thee." Behold, now is the acceptable time: behold, now is the day of salvation. Giving no offence to any man, that our ministry be not blamed: but in all things let us exhibit ourselves as the ministers of God, in much patience, in tribulation, in necessities, in distresses, in stripes, in prisons, in seditions, in labors, in watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in knowledge, in long suffering, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost, in charity unfeigned, in the word of truth, in the power of God; by the armor of justice on the right hand and on the left: through honor and dishonor: through infamy and good name: as seducers, and yet speaking truth: as unknown, and yet known: as dying, and behold we live: as chastised, and not killed: as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing: as needy, yet enriching many: as having nothing, and possessing all things.
Gospel.
St. Matthew iv. 1-11.
At that time:
Jesus was led by the spirit into the desert, to be tempted by the devil. And when he had fasted forty days and forty nights, he was afterwards hungry. And the tempter coming, said to him: If thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made bread. But he answered and said: It is written, "Man liveth not by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth from the mouth of God." Then the devil took him up into the holy city, and set him upon the pinnacle of the temple, and said to him: If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down, for it is written: "That he hath given his Angels charge over thee, and in their hands shall they bear thee up, lest perhaps thou hurt thy foot against a stone?" Jesus said to him: It is written again: "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God." Again the devil took him up into a very high mountain, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them. And said unto him: All these will I give thee, if falling down thou wilt adore me. Then Jesus saith to him: Begone, Satan, for it is written: "The Lord thy God shalt thou adore, and him only shalt thou serve." Then the devil left him: and behold, Angels came and ministered to him.
Sermon XLI.
Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.
—St Matthew iv. 7.
What is it to tempt God? The words sound very strange; for we know that God is infinitely good, and that he cannot be tempted, like us, to commit sin. So that cannot be what is meant by tempting him.
We shall see easily enough what is meant by it if we consider what it was that the devil suggested to our Lord. He said to him: "Throw yourself down from this pinnacle of the temple; no harm will happen to you, for your life is too precious to God for him to allow it to be lost. His angels will carry you down safely; a miracle will be worked in your behalf."
That which Satan wished our Lord to do is what is meant by tempting God. It is to try and see if he will not do some extraordinary thing for us which there is no need for him to do; to presume on his mercy and providence. That is what the Latin word means from which our word "tempt" comes. It means to try, to make an experiment. That, in fact, is the real meaning of our word "to tempt." When the devil tempts us he is trying us, to see how far our love of God will go; he is making an experiment to find out the strength of our souls. God does not let him try all the experiments he would like to.
He has no right to try us in this way; but God lets him do it for our own good. But God does not allow us to be trying any experiments on his mercy and goodness. He does not allow us to depend upon it, except when we know that we have a right to do so.
And yet that is what people, and even Christians, are doing all the time. Perhaps you do not know how; but you ought to know, and I will tell you.
A man tempts God when he puts himself, without necessity, into an occasion of sin. He knows, or ought to know, that he cannot depend on God's grace to keep him from sin in such a case. He knows that God may indeed help him through, so that he will not sin, and perhaps that he has done so before; but he knows, or ought to know, that God has not promised him such a grace, and that it will be nothing surprising if he does not give it to him.
Such is the case of the drunkard who has some sort of a desire to reform his life, and who goes into a liquor-store. He ought to know that he must have God's grace if he is to avoid getting drunk; and so he tries God, to see if he will give him that grace. But there is no need for him to make the experiment, for he could avoid it by simply keeping outside; and that is what God will certainly give him the grace to do, if he prays and is in earnest. Let such a man remember, before he goes near the place, those words: "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God."
Such is the case, too, of young men or women who trust themselves in company of one with whom they have often acted immodestly before. They may pretend to have great sorrow for these past sins, but it is false; they may deceive themselves or their confessors, but not Almighty God, who reads their hearts. No one is truly sorry for his sins when he continues in the great sin of tempting God.
I will tell you of some other people who tempt God. They are those who remain quietly in mortal sin, day after day, week after week, month after month. They say to themselves: "God is good; he will give me time to repent." God may well say to such a one: "Thou fool, who has told thee that? This very night I will require thy soul of thee." He has a right to do it; and you have no right to expect another day of him. When you do so you are trying his patience; you are making an experiment on his mercy. This present moment is all you have a right to depend on. And yet you will sleep night after night in sin, forgetting that, if God should treat you justly, the morning would find you dead; forgetting that your whole life is nothing but a long temptation of God.
Sermon XLII.
Man liveth not by bread alone, but by every word
that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.
—St. Matthew iv. 4.
One of the greatest, if not the greatest, of the defects of the present time is an inordinate care for temporal and material things. How shall we live? what shall we eat? wherewithal shall we be clothed?—these are the questions which men are all too much exercised about at the present day. We see persons who rise, and cause their children to rise, at a very early hour, and from that time till late at night they are working and toiling. We see men of the world who really injure their health, and perhaps shorten their days, by their close and unflagging attention to business. Why do people act thus? All for the sake of the bread that perisheth, all in order to heap up a few dollars which at best they can keep but for a few years. So great has this thirst for money-making become that we see it even in our young boys. They don't want to stay at school; they don't want to store up learning; by the time they are fourteen or a little older (having nothing in their heads but reading, writing, and a little confused arithmetic) they want to be off to the store, the workshop, or the factory. Why? Because they want to join as soon as possible in the wild-goose chase after the goods of the world. Now, all these classes of persons have to learn "that man liveth not by bread alone." My dear friends, besides that poor body which you work so hard to feed, to clothe, and to please, you have an immortal soul. Body and soul united form what we call man. So, then, you must not act as if you were all body. You cannot do so without peril to your soul. Suppose you were to try an experiment of this kind. You say to yourself: "I will eat nothing; I will have prayers for breakfast, confession for lunch, prayers and devotions for dinner, and meditation on death for supper." Then you try it for a week. What an elegant skeleton you would make for a museum at the end of that time! Yet people treat their souls just in that way. Instead of refreshing it with prayers and devotions, etc., they give it clothes, meat and drink, calculations of stock, calculations of profits, cares of this world, etc., and thus the soul is starved just as the body would be by improper food. So then, dear brethren, don't try "to live by bread alone." You can't do it. Try also to live "by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God"—that is to say, by doing those things which, either by his church or by the interior inspirations of his grace, he wishes you to do. Are you in business, or at work? Very well; take care of your affairs prudently, work faithfully, but remember this is not all. You must also find time to pray, find time for confession and the hearing of holy Mass. Don't leave piety to priests, religious women, and children, but let the men also be seen in the church and at the altar-rail. It is a custom in some places that the men should sit on one side of the church and the women on the other. Don't you think if we tried that plan that the numbers on the men's side would often be rather slim? Why? Because they are out in the world trying to live by "bread alone." O my dear friends! why care so much for the goods of this world? Why lay up so much treasure where rust and moth destroy, and where thieves break through and steal? We cannot take a cent with us when we go, and our poor body, even that which we have pampered so much, must decay and return to dust. Let us, then, this morning make a good resolution, that when the devil comes and tempts us to give ourselves up too much to thoughts about our food, our raiment, and our temporal affairs, we will repulse him with these words: "It is written, 'Man liveth not by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.'"
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XLIII.
Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert,
to be tempted by the devil.
—St. Matthew iv. 1.
Do you know what the word "tempt" means, my brethren? I have no doubt that you know what it is to be tempted. You know that, as St. James says, "every man is tempted, being drawn away, by his own concupiscence, and allured." You yourselves have often been tempted; your concupiscence—that is, your sinful passions of one kind or another—have often tempted you, allured you, enticed you away from the law of God.
But the word "to tempt" does not mean "to allure" or "to entice." It means "to try." To tempt any one is to try him to see what sort of stuff he is made of; that's the real meaning of the word—just as a gun, for instance, is tried by putting in an overcharge to see if it will burst, though I would not advise any of you to tempt a gun in that way. It is not a very safe experiment.
That is the kind of experiment, though, that the devil is always trying on us. He is not afraid of accidents. If an accident does happen it will not hurt him. It is just what he wants. So he tries us in various ways to find where our weak point is; for he cannot tell without trying. When he succeeds, when we break down under his temptations, he says to himself: "That's good. I hit the right spot that time, I'll try that again." For you see we are not like guns: we can be burst more than once.
Now, the Gospel tells us that our Lord himself was led into the desert to be tempted by the devil; that is, to have the devil experiment on him. This seems strange. What use was it to try him? Did not the devil know that he was God and could not sin?
No, my brethren, it is probable that he did not. If he had he would not have wasted his time in a temptation which would be of no use. But why did not our Lord let him know it? It was because, being man as well as God, he chose to be tempted or tried like the rest of us: first, that he might set us an example in resisting temptation; and, secondly, that he might merit for us a grace which should make it easy to do so. So he was led into the desert, for our sakes, by his own Spirit—by the Holy Spirit of God.
He has set us the example and merited for us the grace; and, thanks to what he has done for us, it is easy for us to resist temptation. But you do not believe it, that is the trouble.
Some of you think it is impossible to resist temptation. You say, to excuse your sin, "I could not help it." Now, that is simply a lie; or, rather, it is more: it is a blasphemy against God. It is as much as to say, "God did not give me the grace to resist temptation," and thus to make him a partaker in your sins.
You can help it. When our Lord drove away the devil, as the Gospel to-day tells us, he made it easy for us to do the same. And it is a great shame not to do it. What a disgrace to God, and what a laughing-stock to the devil, is a man or a woman who breaks down every time he or she is tried! Yet I am afraid there are plenty of such.
God does not tempt you. St. James tells us that. He has no need to, for he knows what you are made of. But he lets the devil do it, that you may merit by resisting; and he does not let you have any more temptation than you can bear. Remember that, then, the next time you are tempted. Say to yourself: "I have got strength enough to resist this with the help of God. I'll turn the laugh on the devil, instead of his having it on me. I'll show him he was a fool to try to tempt me. I'll let him see that he hit the wrong spot instead of the right one; in fact, that there isn't any right spot to hit. Here's a chance for me to get some merit, and to show that I am good for something; that I am of some use after all the labor that my Maker has spent on me."
Say this in the name of God and in the strength which he gives you, and you will be surprised to see how the devil will run away. No doubt he will try you again, but if you persevere he will give it up as a bad job at last, and you will enter heaven with the reward the Lord wishes to give you—that is, a great stock of merit instead of sin from the temptations which you have had.
Second Sunday of Lent.
Epistle.
1 Thessalonians iv. 1-7.
Brethren:
We pray and beseech you in the Lord Jesus, that as you have received from us, how you ought to walk, and to please God, so also you would walk, that you may abound the more. For you know what commandments I have given to you by the Lord Jesus. For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you should abstain from fornication. That every one of you should know how to possess his vessel in sanctification and honor, not in the passion of lust, like the Gentiles who know not God: and that no man overreach, nor deceive his brother in business: because the Lord is the avenger of all such things, as we have told you before, and have testified. For God hath not called us unto uncleanness, but unto sanctification in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xvii. 1-9.
At that time:
Jesus taketh unto him Peter and James, and John his brother, and bringeth them up into a high mountain apart. And he was transfigured before them. And his face did shine as the sun: and his garments became white as snow. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elias talking with him. And Peter answering, said to Jesus: Lord, it is good for us to be here: if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles, one for thee, and one for Moses, and one for Elias. And as he was yet speaking, behold a bright cloud overshadowed them. And behold, a voice out of the cloud, saying: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased: hear ye him. And the disciples hearing, fell upon their face, and were very much afraid, and Jesus came and touched them, and said to them: Arise, and be not afraid. And when they lifted up their eyes they saw no man, but only Jesus. And as they came down from the mountain, Jesus charged them, saying: Tell the vision to no man, till the Son of Man be risen from the dead.
Sermon XLIV.
And he was transfigured before them.
And his face did shine as the sun:
and his garments became white as snow. …
Behold a bright cloud overshadowed them.
And behold! a voice out of the cloud, saying:
This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.
—St. Matthew xvii. 2, 5.
I think, brethren, one can hardly read the above account of the Transfiguration of our dear Lord without having suggested to our minds one of the most beautiful of the many services of the Catholic Church. I mean the rite of Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. We ourselves are the three disciples. The mountain up into which our Lord brings us is the holy altar. His face, shining as the sun, is represented to us by the bright lights that cluster round his throne, and by the refulgence of the rays of the monstrance which contains him. Then his garments are indeed as white as snow; for he veils his divinity under the form of the purest wheaten bread, and hides himself beneath its appearances as though he should wrap his sacred Body in pure white raiment. Then the bright cloud is the floating incense, and the voice out of the cloud the tinkling bell, which seems to say to us as Jesus is held aloft and as we bend low in adoration: "This is God's beloved Son, in whom he is well pleased." So then, the Gospel for to-day naturally suggests to our minds a few reflections on this great devotion of the church—Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. Now, a great many persons seem to think that Benediction is only "tacked on," as it were, to the office of Vespers. This idea is all wrong. To be sure. Benediction is often given directly after Vespers, but it is an entirely separate and distinct service. Vespers end with the Antiphon of the Blessed Virgin; Benediction begins when the Holy Sacrament is taken from the tabernacle and placed in the costly metal frame called the monstrance, or ostensorium. So, then, Benediction is not part of Vespers, or of any function which may precede it; and I want to make this very clear, because I think the false notion that it is merely something supplementary is a reason why so many people neglect it. What, then, is Benediction? It is the solemn exposition of the same Jesus whose face shone so bright on Thabor. He stays there upon the altar for a little while, that we may kneel before him, adore him, praise him. Then he is lifted up in the hands of his priest, and he gives us his blessing. Remember, it is not the priest who blesses you at Benediction; it is Jesus himself who does so. Now, it is very true, dear friends, that people are not bound to come to Benediction; yet surely, if each one realized what a blessed thing Benediction is, no one who could come would stay away. Jesus is there on the altar. He is waiting to hear your prayers, waiting to receive your acts of love and adoration, waiting to bless you. Oh! then come often to Benediction. Do not say, "There is nothing but Vespers this afternoon"; remember there is something more —Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. There is a day fast approaching on which the Holy Sacrament will be carried in procession, and then placed in the most solemn manner in the repository. I mean Maundy Thursday. Now, that is also an exposition of the Blessed Sacrament, and, although Jesus is not held aloft by the priest as at ordinary Benedictions, who can doubt but that Jesus blesses us as he passes by? I pray you, then, when that day arrives to remember who it is who comes to you. Let us see the church full, not of gazers at the lights and flowers, but of faithful worshippers of their King and God. If you go from church to church on that day don't go to peer, don't go to see, but to to pray. So when the devotion of the Forty Hours is announced in your church—that devotion which is the most solemn of all the expositions and benedictions through the year—be devout; spend at least an hour in the day before the Lamb of God. Remember that the Holy Sacrament is Jesus Christ—the very same who was born in Bethlehem and died on Calvary. Lastly, come to Benediction always with a living faith and a burning love. Never let your place be vacant, if you can help it, when you know it is to be given. Set a great store by it. In the words of a living preacher: "Night by night the Son of God comes forth to you in his white raiment, wearing his golden crown; night by night his sweet voice is heard, and he looks for you with a wistful gaze; do not turn away from such blessedness as this; do not refuse to listen to his pleading words; do not let your places be empty before the altar when Jesus comes."
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XLV.
And that no man over-reach,
nor deceive his brother in business;
because the Lord is the avenger of all such things.
—1 Thessalonians iv. 6.
These words are from the Epistle of to-day, my dear brethren, and are certainly suggestive, or at least should be so, at this season which the church has assigned as a time for examination of conscience and repentance for sin.
The sin which St. Paul warns us against goes, when it is practised in other ways, by worse names than the one which he gives it here. A man meets you on a lonely road and takes your money forcibly from you; what do you call it? You call it robbery. A man enters your house at dead of night and carries off your property; what do you call it? You call it burglary. A man picks your pocket on the street; what do you call it? You call it theft. Well, it is all one and the same thing. All these are various ways of breaking the Seventh Commandment; and what is that? Thou shalt not steal.
And what is it to deceive or over-reach some one else in business? It is just the same thing as these; it is the breaking of this same commandment; it is stealing, just as much as robbery, burglary, and theft are, only it does not go by so bad a name, and is not so likely to be punished by the laws of the land. And what do I mean by this over-reaching or deceiving? I mean selling goods under false pretences for more than they are really worth; using false weights or measures; evading in one way and another the payment of one's just debts; taking advantage of one's neighbor's difficulties to make an undue profit for one's self; in short, all the many ways in which men turn a dishonest penny or dollar; in which they get rich by trickery and injustice. All these are stealing, just as bad and a great deal more dishonorable than robbery, burglary, or theft, because not attended with so much risk to the person who is guilty of them.
Now, it seems to me that this sin of cheating—for that is the bad name such sharp practices ought to go by, though they often do not—is a most strange and unaccountable one; much more so than those other kinds of stealing. The man who breaks into your house or who picks your pocket is generally one who is pretty badly off, and who needs what he takes more than the people do from whom he takes it. You do not expect to find rich men setting up as burglars or pickpockets. It is true, sometimes you do find people who have a passion for stealing things when they have plenty of money to buy them; but that is commonly considered to be a special kind of insanity, and they have a name made on purpose for it; they call it "kleptomania." The people who do this are supposed to be crazy on this particular point; but is it not really just the same thing for a man who has enough and to spare to be trying to cheat his neighbor? Such a man, it would seem, must be crazy too.
And there is another way in which cheating is a strange thing, and especially in a Catholic. For every Catholic at least must know that if he tries to cheat he himself gets cheated worse than the people he is trying to impose on. For he gets himself into a very bad position. He has got to do one of two things. One is to restore, as far as possible, what he has cheated other people out of; and that is a very hard thing to do sometimes—much harder than it would have been to have left cheating alone. But hard as this is, the other is much harder. For the other thing is to go to hell; to be banished from God for ever; to pay for all eternity the debt which he would not pay here.
Do not, then, my brethren, get yourselves into this position. But if you are in it do the first of these two things. Restore your ill-gotten goods. Do it now; not put it off till you come to die. It will cost you a struggle then as well as now; and even if you try to do it then, it is doubtful if those who come after you will carry out your wishes. A purpose to restore which is put off till a time when you cannot be sure of carrying it out is rather a weak bridge on which to pass to eternal life. Remember now what you will Wish at the hour of death to have remembered; remember those words of our Lord: "What doth it profit a man, if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his own soul?"
Sermon XLVI.
Those of you, my brethren, who are keeping Lent as it should be kept are beginning by this time, if I am not mistaken, to think that it is a pretty long and tedious season. Fasting and abstinence, giving up many worldly amusements, getting up early in the morning and going to Mass as so many of you do, and other such things, get to be rather tiresome to the natural man after a few days; and I have no doubt you are quite glad that Lent does not last the whole year, and are looking forward to the time when it will be over. I have always noticed that there were not many at Mass in Easter week, and there are very few, I imagine, who fast or abstain much then.
And perhaps you are even inclined to say: "What ever did the church get up Lent for at all? Certainly we could be good Christians without it, or save our souls, at any rate." But when you come to think of it you know well enough why Lent was instituted. You know that we cannot save our souls without abstaining from sin, and that we shall not be likely to abstain from sin unless we abstain sometimes also from what is not sinful. You know also that we cannot get to heaven without doing penance for our sins, and that it is better to do penance here than in purgatory. And you know, too, that most people will not abstain much or do much penance beyond what the church commands; so you know why the church got up Lent.
She did it that we might get to heaven sooner and more surely. That ought to be our encouragement, then, in it, that every good Lent brings us a good deal nearer to heaven; that heaven is the reward of penance and mortification. And it is partly to keep this before our minds that the church tells us in to-day's Gospel the story of our Lord's transfiguration: how he took Peter and James and John up with him on Mount Thabor, and there appeared to them in his glory; and filled their hearts with renewed courage and confidence in him, and with a firm belief that it was worth their while to follow him, even if they had to sleep out at night, and not get much to eat, and suffer in many ways—that it was worth while for the sake of the good time coming, of which his glory was a promise, though they did not know just when or what it would be.
They thought, perhaps, it would be in this world; that their Master would come out in the power and majesty that they could see that he had, put down all his enemies, and reign as a great king on the earth. We know better; we know, or ought to know, that it will not be in this world. But we know that the good time coming will be something a great deal better than anything that can be in this world.
So we ought to be a great deal more encouraged than they were, especially when we think how little, after all, we have to suffer compared with what was asked of our Lord's chosen apostles. We do not have to sleep on the ground, or live on grains of wheat picked off the stalk in the fields, as they sometimes had to do. We have not got to look forward, as they did after his death, to long and painful labors and journeyings, to being driven from one city to another, to being scourged and buffeted, and put at last to a cruel death. No; on the whole, we have got a pretty easy time. We probably will not starve; nobody will persecute us; we will most likely always have a house to live in, and die in our beds.
It is not much, then, is it, to eat fish instead of meat, to fast enough to have a good appetite, to lose a little sleep and get a little tired? Perhaps if we would think more of the reward for such little things, and think a little more of the good time coming in heaven, we might even wish that Lent was more than forty days long.
Third Sunday of Lent
Epistle.
Ephesians v. 1-9.
Brethren:
Be ye followers of God, as most dear children. And walk in love as Christ also hath loved us, and hath delivered himself for us an oblation and a sacrifice to God for an odor of sweetness. But fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not so much as be named among you, as becometh saints: nor obscenity, nor foolish talking, nor scurrility, which is to no purpose: but rather giving of thanks. For know ye this, and understand that no fornicator, nor unclean, nor covetous person which is a serving of idols hath any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. Let no man deceive you with vain words. For because of these things cometh the anger of God upon the children of unbelief. Be ye not therefore partakers with them. For you were heretofore darkness, but now light in the Lord. Walk ye as children of the light: for the fruit of the light is in all goodness, and justice, and truth.
Gospel.
St. Luke xi. 14-28.
At that time: Jesus was casting out a devil, and the same was dumb; and when he had cast out the devil, the dumb spoke; and the multitude admired: but some of them said: He casteth out devils in Beelzebub, the prince of the devils. And others tempting, asked of him a sign from heaven. But he, seeing their thoughts, said to them: Every kingdom divided against itself shall be brought to desolation, and a house upon a house shall fall. And if Satan also be divided against himself, how shall his kingdom stand? because you say, that in Beelzebub I cast out devils. Now if I cast out devils in Beelzebub, in whom do your children cast them out? Therefore they shall be your judges. But if I, in the finger of God, cast out devils, doubtless the kingdom of God is come upon you. When a strong man armed keepeth his court, those things which he possesseth are in peace. But if a stronger than he come upon him and overcome him, he will take away all his armor wherein he trusted, and will distribute his spoils. He that is not with me, is against me: and he that gathereth not with me, scattereth. When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through places without water, seeking rest: and not finding, he saith: I will return into my house whence I came out. And when he is come, he findeth it swept and garnished. Then he goeth and taketh with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and entering in they dwell there. And the last state of that man becometh worse than the first. And it came to pass, as he spoke these things, a certain woman from the crowd lifting up her voice, said to him: Blessed is the womb that bore thee, and the paps that gave thee suck. But he said: Yea, rather, blessed are they who hear the word of God and keep it.
Sermon XLVII.
Every kingdom divided against itself
shall be brought to desolation.
—St. Luke xi. 17.
We can see at once how true the sentence just read is; for if the head of a kingdom were to rise against the members, the king against his ministers, the people against both king and government, and the army and navy against their proper commanders—if all this should take place, then I say that kingdom would certainly be brought to desolation, and any enemy could easily come along and take possession of it. Now, dear brethren, the Christian family is a little kingdom. The father and mother are the king and queen, the older and more experienced members of the family are the counsellors, the children the subjects of that kingdom. The Christian family ought to be most closely united, and this for many reasons. Each member has been baptized with the same baptism, been sanctified by the same Holy Spirit. They have all been pardoned for their sins through the same Precious Blood, do all eat of the same spiritual food, the Body and Blood of Christ. Then, to come to natural reasons, they are bound together by the tie of blood, by the tie of parental and filial affection; they live together, pray together, rejoice together, suffer together. So there is every reason why the Christian family should be united; and if it is to fulfil its mission properly it must be united, or it will be brought to desolation. O my dear friends! how many of these little kingdoms which should go to make up the grand empire of Jesus Christ upon earth fall away from their allegiance to him, and all because they are divided against themselves. We see a father, for instance, given over to habits of drunkenness; he comes home either in a dull, heavy stupor or else in a perfect fury of rage; he worries his wife, scares his children, disgraces himself; all his family shrink from him. There you see at once the head divided against the members. Or there is in the family a cross, ill-tempered, scolding wife, and, as the Scripture says, "there is no anger above the anger of a woman: it will be more agreeable to abide with a lion and a dragon than to dwell with a wicked woman. As the climbing of a sandy way is to the feet of the aged, so is a wife full of tongue to a quiet man." Such a woman would divide any family; she destroys the unity thereof just as much as the drunken husband. What, also, must be thought of interfering relations, cousins, aunts, uncles, and last, but not least, mothers-in-law? How often do they make mischief and destroy the kingdom of the Christian family! So, too, rebellious children, quarrelsome brothers and sisters—they all destroy peace, they all help to divide the kingdom, they all help to bring it to desolation; and in the end, instead of a fair kingdom, strong and united, nothing remains but a wretched scene of strife and contention, and in comes the devil and takes possession of everything. Now, my dear friends, when by your drunkenness, your crossness, your mischief-making and party-spirit, by your rebellion against parental authority, you divide the kingdom of your family, not only you yourselves will suffer, not only will you and your family have to endure spiritual injury and perhaps loss of salvation, but the great kingdom of Christ, now militant here on earth, and one day to be triumphant in heaven, suffers also. Who make up the church on earth? Individuals, families. Who are to fill the ranks of the heavenly kingdom? The same. Oh! then, if you are divided against yourselves, if you are brought to desolation, you are part of the devil's kingdom on earth, and will form part of his empire of sin and death in hell. For God's sake, brethren, stop this evil war. Stop these things which make the family miserable. Have peace in your homes. Let men see that the peace of Christ and the union of Christ dwell there. Correct your faults; curb your tongues and your tempers; be obedient. Remember, the first words the priest says when he comes to your homes on a sick-call are these: "Peace be to this house and all that dwell therein." Try to profit by that benediction. Try always to have the peace of God, which passeth all knowledge, and then shall your kingdom stand.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XLVIII.
"Are you going to make your Easter duty?" This is an important question just now, my dear brethren. You should put it to yourselves, and your answer should be: "Yes, certainly." The church commands it; and you know very well that he who will not hear the church is to be held as a heathen and a publican; that he who despises the church despises our Lord, and he who despises the Lord despises his Father who is in heaven. Surely you will not make yourselves guilty of this frightful sin of contempt; surely you do not wish to be held as a heathen. But knowing, as you do, the precept of the church binding at this time, how can you expect, if you do not fulfil it, to escape from the consequences of your disobedience, as expressed in the words of our Lord which I have just recited?
To go against the church in one of her commands is to spurn her authority altogether. It is strange that people should make, of their own wits or fancy, distinctions between the precepts of the church, when the church makes and acknowledges no such distinctions. The authority in all cases is the same, and, therefore, the commands are all equally binding. Yet how many Catholics who would scruple to eat meat on Friday or miss Mass on Sunday think nothing at all of breaking, without reason, the fast and abstinence of Lent, and give no heed whatever to the obligation of going to confession and communion in Easter-time! It really looks, to judge from their conduct, as if this Easter duty was not on an equal footing with the other commands of the church; as if the church did not mean what she prescribes. Now, the truth of it is, to this precept is attached a more severe sanction than to any other. The church makes any Catholic who violates it liable to excommunication, and deprivation of burial in consecrated ground. So you see the obligation is very strict and the church is terribly in earnest about it, if you are not.
To take matters in your own hands, as so many Catholics do on this point, and call little what she calls great, and slight an order that she is so anxious about, is to be a heathen, or, at any rate, a Protestant; it is to set your private judgment above her authority; it is to despise God, who commands through her. If you would only take this view of it—and this is the true view to take—you would think more than once before you would say: "O pshaw! any other time will do. Once a year? All right; I find it more convenient to go at Christmas." No, any other time will not do; once a year will not do, unless it be just now at this time. Christmas is a glorious feast, and Christmas-tide a joyful season, but it is not the season prescribed by the church for your annual communion; and, heathen that you are, your convenience is not the main point to be considered. The question is: has the church power from God to command me, and what does the church command?
Oh! then, my brethren, let not the penances, the prayers, the instructions, the special graces of this holy season go to naught and be of no avail; but rather let them lead you up to the end for which they are intended—that is, to bring you to repentance for past sins, amendment for the future, to restore you to the friendship of your God, and strengthen you, for further battling in life, with the bread of heaven, his most precious Body and Blood.
Sermon XLIX.
He saith: I will return into my house
whence I came out.
—St. Luke xi. 24.
The warning which our Lord gives us in this Gospel is certainly a most terrible one, my brethren, but it may not seem plain to whom it is addressed; who they are who, now and at all times, are in danger of having the devil come back to them in this way of which he speaks. For nowadays, thank God! it is not very often that we find people who are really possessed by the devil, in the proper sense of the word.
But, in a more general sense of it, there are plenty of people who are possessed by the devil. They are those who are in a state of mortal sin. In them Satan has regained the possession from which he was driven out in holy baptism—that is, the soul which was his at least by original, if not by actual, sin. And he is in them as a dumb devil, like the one which the Gospel tells us that our Lord cast out; that is, he makes the people dumb whom he possesses, by keeping them from telling their sins and getting rid of them by confession.
But the dumb devil is often cast out, particularly at times of special grace and help from God, like this holy season of Lent through which we are now passing, or at the time of a mission or of a jubilee. At such times you will always find people, who have been away from the sacraments for years, coming back to them and making an effort to amend their lives and save their souls.
Now, this is very unpleasant to the devil, who has counted on these people as his own. He has a special liking for the souls which have been his so long. So when he is driven out of them he does not simply go off on other business, as we might expect; but he always has an eye on his old home. He says to himself, when he finds that he does not get along so well elsewhere: "I will return into my house whence I came out. I will see if I cannot get in again."
So he comes back to his old house, to the soul which has been his, and too often he finds it pretty easy to get in again. He finds it, in fact, "swept and garnished," as our Lord says, and all ready for his reception. So, of course, he goes in and takes his old place. The soul, which has escaped from sin by a good confession, relapses into it again.
What a pity this is! And yet how common it is! How many, how very many, there are who a month or so after a mission, or some other occasion when you would think they would really be converted in good earnest, are back again in their old sins just the same as if they had never confessed them at all!
It seems strange, perhaps. And yet it is not so strange when you come to think of it. The reason is not very hard to find. It is just the one that our Lord gives: it is that the house of the soul, from which the devil has been driven, is empty, "swept and garnished." Nothing has been put there in the place of the vices and bad habits that were there before.
There is no habit of prayer; there is no remembrance of the good resolutions that were made at confession; there is no attempt to avoid the occasion of sin; and, above all, there is no grace coming from the sacraments. That is the great mistake these converted sinners have made. They have promised at confession to go every month for the future; but they have not kept that promise. Now, it is perfect folly and madness for one who has been in the habits of sin to hope to persevere by saying a few short prayers and going to confession once a year. Such a way of going on leaves the soul empty of grace, and without anything to prevent its enemy from coming in.
If you want to persevere after a good confession, go every month to the sacraments. This is not a practice of piety; it is only common prudence. This is the means which God has appointed in his church to fill the soul with grace, and leave no room for the devil in his old home from which he has once been driven away.
Fourth Sunday of Lent.
Epistle.
Galatians iv. 22-31.
Brethren:
It is written that Abraham had two sons: the one by a bond-woman, and the other by a free-woman: but he that was by the bond-woman was born according to the flesh: but he by the free-woman was by the promise. Which things are said by an allegory: for these are the two testaments: the one indeed on Mount Sina which bringeth forth unto bondage, which is Agar: for Sina is a mountain in Arabia, which hath an affinity to that which now is Jerusalem, and is in bondage with her children. But that Jerusalem which is above, is free: which is our mother. For it is written: "Rejoice, thou barren, that bearest not: break forth and cry out, thou that travailest not; for many are the children of the desolate, more than of her that hath a husband"; now we, brethren, as Isaac was, are the children of promise. But as then he, that was born according to the flesh, persecuted him that was according to the spirit: so also now. But what saith the Scripture? "Cast out the bond-woman and her son: for the son of the bond-woman shall not be heir with the son of the free-woman." Therefore, brethren, we are not the children of the bond-woman, but of the free: by the freedom wherewith Christ has made us free.
Gospel.
St. John vi. 1-15.
At that time:
Jesus went over the sea of Galilee, which is that of Tiberias: and a great multitude followed him, because they saw the miracles which he did on them that were infirm. And Jesus went up into a mountain, and there he sat with his disciples. Now the pasch, the festival day of the Jews, was near at hand.
When Jesus therefore had lifted up his eyes, and seen that a very great multitude cometh to him, he said to Philip: Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat? And this he said to try him, for he himself knew what he would do. Philip answered him: Two hundred pennyworth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one may take a little. One of his disciples, Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, saith to him: There is a boy here that hath five barley loaves, and two fishes; but what are these among so many? Then Jesus said: Make the men sit down. Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. And Jesus took the loaves: and when he had given thanks he distributed to them that were sat down. In like manner also of the fishes as much as they would. And when they were filled, he said to his disciples: Gather up the fragments that remain, lest they be lost. So they gathered up, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves, which remained over and above to them that had eaten. Then those men, when they had seen what a miracle Jesus had done, said: This is the prophet indeed that is to come into the world. When Jesus therefore perceived that they would come and take him by force and make him king, he fled again into the mountain himself alone.
Sermon L.
When, therefore, Jesus had lifted up his eyes
and seen that a very great multitude cometh to him,
he said to Philip:
"Whence shall we buy bread that these may eat?"
—St. John vi. 5.
To-day is mid-Lent Sunday, dear brethren. Half of the holy season has passed away, and the Pasch is near at hand. All through Lent the church has been praying, fasting, and preaching, making extra efforts to bring in the sinners who have so long stayed without the fold.
Like the Divine Master, she looks down upon the crowd and she has pity on them. She wants to heal the sick; they will not be healed. She wants to feed the hungry; they will not be fed. The church looks round upon the vast crowd of her children and wants them to make their Easter duty; alas! how many neglect it. Why should you make the Easter duty? First, because it is a strict law of the church. If you fail to make it by your own fault you commit a grievous mortal sin and put yourself in a position to be excommunicated from God's church. Secondly, for your own spiritual good. What kind of a Christian can he be who does not go to confession or communion at least once in a year? How shall you make it? First go to confession, and then, when you have received absolution, go to communion. That is all simple and plain enough. Why, then, do some people stay away from their Easter duty? Let us tell the truth. Confession must come first, and confession is the difficulty. A man has been engaged for years in an unlawful business, or he has stolen a sum of money, or he has been the receiver of stolen goods, or in some way or other cheated in trade. Such a man is a thief. He knows it, and he is also aware that if he goes to confession the priest will say: "Give up the ill-gotten money, sell your fine house and your gilded furniture, and make restitution; you must restore or you will damn your soul." They won't do that, won't give up the dishonest gains, and so they won't make the Easter duty. Or there are some who have committed sins of impurity; they have been unfaithful husbands, dissolute wives. They won't give up their bad habits or won't tell their shameful sins, and so they won't make the Easter duty. There are others on whom the fiend of drunkenness has settled; they are always on a spree, always pouring the liquor which stupefies them down their throats; they won't repent and they won't make the Easter duty. Ah! then, if there be any such sinners here—if there be any thieves, if there be any who are living upon dishonest gains, if there be any who are wallowing in impurity and drunkenness—tell me, how long is this going to last? How many more years will you slink away from your Easter duty like cowards and cravens? Will you go on so to the end of your lives? Oh! then you will go down to hell, and your blood be upon your own heads. No one stays away from Easter duty except for disgraceful reasons. There is always something bad behind that fear of the confessional, and such a man deserves to be pointed at by every honorable Catholic. Suppose you have stolen, or been an adulterer, or a fornicator, or a drunkard, or what not. Now is the time to repent, and amend, and make reparation. Don't you see the church looking down with eyes of mercy upon you? Why, then, stay? There can be only one reason, and that reason is because you want to go on being thieves, adulterers, and drunkards. O brethren! do not, I pray you, so wickedly. The church is kind. The blood of Christ is still flowing. The confessionals are still open. Go in there with your heavy sins and your black secrets. Go in there with your long story of sin. Go in, even if your hands are red with blood—go in, I say, and if you are truly penitent you will be cleansed and consoled. Let there not be a single man or woman in this church who can have it said of them this year: "You missed your Easter duty." And you that have been away for years and years, don't add another sin to your already long list of crimes. You are sick, you are fainting with hunger, you are a poor wandering sheep; but never mind, remember Jesus looks with pity upon you, and he will heal your sickness in the sacrament of penance, and feed you with his own Body and Blood.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LI.
Gather up the fragments that remain,
lest they he lost.
—St. John vi. 12.
It seems rather odd, does it not, my brethren, that our Divine Lord should have been so particular about saving all the broken bits of those loaves and fishes? He had just worked a wonderful miracle, and he could have repeated it the next day without any difficulty. When he or his apostles or the crowd who came to hear him were hungry, he had nothing to do but to say the word, and they could all have as much to eat as they wanted. Why, then, be so particular about hunting up all the crusts of bread and bits of fish that were lying round in the grass?
Perhaps you will say: "It was to show what a great miracle he had worked; to show that, in spite of their all having dined heartily, there were twelve basketfuls of scraps left over—much more than they had to start with."
I do not think that was it. The greatness of the miracle in feeding five thousand men on five loaves and two fishes was plain enough. At any rate, that was not the reason that he himself gave.
He said: "Gather them up, lest they be lost." "Well, then," a prudent housekeeper would say, "the reason is plain enough. It was to teach us economy—not to let anything go to waste; to save the scraps, and make them up into bread-puddings and fish-balls."
I know you do not think that was it. Most people who are not forced to this kind of economy are apt to turn up their noses at it, and connect it in their minds with a stingy disposition, which they very rightly think is not pleasing to God.
But, after all, I don't see what it could very well have been but economy that our Lord meant to teach. I don't see what other meaning you can get out of his command to gather up the fragments, that they might not be lost. If that does not mean economy, what does it mean?
No, my brethren, economy, or a saving spirit, is not such a contemptible thing when rightly understood. There may be stinginess with it, but stinginess is not a part of it. Economy, rightly understood, is setting a proper value on the gifts of God.
Yes; what comes from him—and everything does—is too valuable to be thrown away. To despise his gifts is very much like despising him.
And besides, there is not, in fact, an unlimited supply of them, though there might be. He might have fed his followers in that miraculous way every day; but he only did so twice in his life.
Our Lord, then, did mean, I think, to set us an example of economy. Practise it as he did, my brethren. Prize God's gifts, whatever they may be; do not waste them. But especially his spiritual gifts; for they are infinitely more precious than the material ones. Don't count on having a future extraordinary supply of them.
You have got enough to save your souls now, and to sanctify them, if you will only make use of it. You have got the faith, the sacraments, and the word of God. You don't need to have any one rise from the dead to convert you. Our Lord tells us that a certain rich man who was in hell wanted to go back to earth and appear to his brothers, that they might take warning by his example. He was told that it was not necessary; that they had Moses and the prophets. Well, you have got a great deal more. You know just as well what you must do to save your souls, and even to become saints, as if you had been beyond the grave yourselves. Don't expect more yet.
Save up your spiritual gifts, my brethren; you have got plenty now, but you do not know how much more you will get. When God gives you any grace make the most of it; perhaps it will be the last you will have. Bring back to your minds what you have heard, and the good thoughts and purposes which the Holy Ghost has given you; serve up the spiritual feasts you have had, not only a second time, but over and over again. Make what you have got go as far as possible, and your souls will grow stout and strong. Wait for unusual graces like a mission or a jubilee, and they will be thin and weak all the time. Be economical, especially in spiritual things; that is a very important lesson of the Gospel of to-day.
Passion Sunday.
Epistle.
Hebrews ix. 11-15.
Brethren:
Christ being come a high-priest of the good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle not made with hands, that is, not of this creation: neither by the blood of goats, nor of calves, but by his own blood, entered once into the Holies, having obtained eternal redemption. For if the blood of goats and of oxen, and the ashes of a heifer being sprinkled, sanctify such as are defiled, to the cleansing of the flesh: how much more shall the blood of Christ, who by the Holy Ghost offered himself unspotted unto God, cleanse our conscience from dead works, to serve the living God? And therefore he is the mediator of the new testament: that by means of his death, for the redemption of those transgressions, which were under the former testament, they that are called may receive the promise of eternal inheritance in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Gospel.
St. John viii. 46-59.
At that time: Jesus said to the multitude of the Jews: Which of you shall convince me of sin? If I say the truth to you, why do you not believe me? He that is of God, heareth the words of God. Therefore you hear them not, because you are not of God. The Jews, therefore, answered and said to him: Do not we say well that thou art a Samaritan, and hast a devil? Jesus answered: I have not a devil; but I honor my Father, and you have dishonored me. But I seek not my own glory: there is one that seeketh and judgeth. Amen, amen, I say to you: if any man keep my word, he shall not see death for ever. The Jews therefore said: Now we know that thou hast a devil. Abraham is dead, and the prophets; and thou sayest: If any man keep my word, he shall not taste death for ever. Are thou greater than our father Abraham, who is dead? And the prophets are dead. Whom dost thou make thyself? Jesus answered: If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing. It is my Father that glorifieth me, of whom you say that he is your God. And you have not known him, but I know him. And if I shall say that I know him not, I shall be like to you, a liar. But I do know him, and do keep his word. Abraham your father rejoiced that he might see my day: he saw it, and was glad. The Jews therefore said to him: Thou art not yet fifty years old, and hast thou seen Abraham? Jesus said to them: Amen, amen, I say to you, before Abraham was made, I am. They took up stones therefore to cast at him. But Jesus hid himself, and went out of the temple.
Sermon LII.
But Jesus hid himself.
—St. John viii. 59.
Thick and fast, dear brethren, the shadows of the Great Week begin to fall upon us. Only a few more days and it will be Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week. To-day we are left, as it were, alone. The crucifix, with its figure of the dead, white Christ, is veiled; the dear, familiar faces of the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph are veiled also; and even the saints before whom we were wont to kneel are all hidden behind the purple veil of Passion-tide. Not till Good Friday will Jesus look upon us again, not till Holy Saturday will the Blessed Virgin, St. Joseph, and the saints once more come forth to our view. We are, then, alone by ourselves. God wants us to stand up before him just as we are. Jesus has hidden his face for a while. The crucifix has bidden you good-by. In what state were you last night when devout hands veiled the figure of Christ? Will you ever look upon the old, familiar crucifix again? It may be, before the purple veil is lifted from this cross, you will have looked upon the face of Christ in judgment. O brethren! to-day the face of Jesus is hidden. May be the last time you looked upon it you were in mortal sin, and are so still. When and how shall you look upon it again? If you live till Good Friday you will see it then held aloft by the priest, and afterwards kissed by all the faithful. If you die before then, and die, as you may, without warning or preparation, then you will look upon the face of Christ upon the judgment seat, then you will hear the awful words: "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire." Or perhaps—and may God grant it!—you will next see the face of Jesus in the person of his priest in the confessional, and there it will be turned upon you in mercy and forgiveness. There are some of you, I know, who are as dead men. There are some of you who, even up to this late hour, are holding out against grace. Still in mortal sin! I point you to the veiled Christ. I ask you, here in the sacred presence of God, I ask you in the most solemn manner, when and how will you look upon his face again? He has bidden you good-by to-day, he has said farewell, and as he said it he saw that you were a blasphemer, a drunkard, an adulterer, a slanderer, a creature full of pride, full of sloth, full of all kinds of sin. Oh! say, shall he still find you so when he returns? Say, when he is uncovered on Good Friday can you, dare you add to his grief by still being what you are now? And to us all, even the most devout, this lesson of the veiled crucifix ought not to pass unheeded. Christ has gone from us to-day! How will he come back to us? All torn and bloody, all thorn-scarred, all spear-pierced, nailed to the cross, and all for love of us! We, too, brethren, who are trying to walk strictly in the narrow path—we, too, may ask ourselves. When and how shall we see him again? Perhaps before Good Friday, ay, perhaps even before our hands can grasp the green palm-branch of next Sunday, we may see the unveiled face of our Beloved. Are we afraid of that? Oh! no. We have loved the face of suffering too well to dread the face of glory. We only expect to hear from his lips words of love and welcome. Brethren, there is a day coming when all veils shall be lifted. There is a time nearing us when all must look upon the face that died on Calvary's Mount. On that day and at that time will take place the great unveiling of the face of Christ: I mean the day of general judgment. O solemn, O awful thought for us to-day before the veiled image of our Lord! May be the judgment day will come before that light veil is lifted from the well-known crucifix. Great God! our next Good Friday may be spent either in heaven or in hell. Go home, brethren, with these thoughts fixed deeply in your hearts. Come here often to pray. If you have sins come here and confess them; and often and often as we turn to the veiled Christ, let us most devoutly cry: "Jesus, when and how shall we look upon thy face again?"
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LIII.
Under the false accusations of the Jews how calm and self-possessed our Lord remains! He does not return passion for passion, anger for anger, accusations for accusations, violence for violence; but he meets calumny with the assertion of truth, and confounds his enemies by humility and meekness. They accuse him of sin; with the sublime simplicity of a pure conscience he dares them to convince him of sin. They call him names: "Thou art a Samaritan"; to so evident a falsehood he deigns no reply. Blinded by anger, they accuse him of being possessed: "Thou hast a devil"; a simple denial, "I have not a devil," the leaving of his own glory to his Father, the assertion of his divine mission, is the answer to the blasphemous calumny. "Now we know thou hast a devil," repeat they, waxing more passionate; but, unimpassioned, Jesus rises above their rage to the calm heights of the Godhead, and affirms his eternal generation. Finally, losing all control of themselves, they take up stones to cast at him; but he quietly goes out of the temple and hides himself, for his hour—the hour when he would bear in silence the accusations and indignities of man, and allow himself to be led to slaughter—had not yet come.
In this our Saviour teaches us how we should behave when the passions of others fall upon us and we are made the butt of accusations, just or unjust. In such circumstances what is generally your conduct? By no means Christian, I am afraid, but very worldly; for the world counts it true valor and justice to give tit for tat, to take tooth for tooth and eye for eye. Do you not give back as good—and often worse—than you get? Prudence, let alone Christianity, should dictate to you quite another conduct. Your counter-accusations do but strengthen and confirm the calumny; they allow it to stand, "You're another" and "you're no better" are poor arguments to clear yourselves. It's a flank movement that does not cover your position, a feint that does not save you from attack. The answering of a question by asking another question is a smart trick, but no answer. A calm denial, if you could make it, or dignified silence would do the work more surely and thoroughly. And so the fight of words goes on in true Billingsgate style; to and fro they fly thick and hot, hotter and hotter as passion rises on both sides. "One word brings on another," until white heat is reached and all control of temper lost. Then, as the Jews ended with stones, so you perhaps come to more serious passion than mere words. The result is quarrels, deadly feuds, bodily injuries, and worse, may be—bloodshed and the jail. A cow kicked a lantern in a stable, and Chicago was on fire for days. Some frivolous accusation that you pick up, while you should let it fall, starts within you a fire of anger that makes a ruin of your whole spiritual life and throws disorder all around you; families are divided; wife and husband sulk, quarrel, live a "cat and dog" life; friends are separated, connections broken. Peace flies from your homes, your social surroundings, your own hearts; the very horrors of hell are around you. Christian charity has been wounded to death, and the slightest of blows, the lightest of shafts has done it. All for the want of a little patience and self-possession! How often we hear it said: "Oh! I have such a bad temper; I'm easily riz, God forgive me! I've a bad passion entirely." Well, my dear brethren, learn from this Gospel how you should control yourselves, how you should possess your souls in patience. One-half the sins of the world would be done away with, if only the lesson of this Gospel were laid to heart and put into practice. What is the lesson?
Firstly, never seek self-praise in self-justification. Jesus turns aside the calumny of the Jews, but leaves the glorifying of himself in the hands of his Father, "who seeketh and judgeth." Secondly, pay no attention to accusations that are absurd, evidently untrue, and frivolous. When Jesus is called names and is made out to be what every one knows he was not—"a Samaritan"—he makes no answer. Thirdly, if serious calumny, calculated to injure your usefulness in your duties and state of life, assail you, it then becomes your right, and sometimes your duty, to repel the calumny, as Jesus did when he was accused of "having a devil." But in this case your self-justification, like that of our Saviour, should ever be calm, dignified, and Christian. It should be a defence, never an attack. The true Christian parries, he does not give the thrust; he shields himself from the arrows of malice, he does not shoot them back. Superior to revenge, he pities enemies for the evil they do; he forgives them and prays for them, as our Lord has commanded. This is Christian charity, and Christian humility as well. But as it avails little to know what we should do, if we have not God's grace to enable us to do it, let us often say, especially in temptations to impatience: "O Jesus, meek and humble of heart! make me like unto thee."
Sermon LIV.
Why is to-day called Passion Sunday, my brethren? There does not seem to be any special commemoration of our Lord's sacred Passion in the Mass, as there is next Sunday, when the long account of it from St. Matthew's Gospel is read; and most people, I think, hardly realize that to-day is anything more than any other Sunday in Lent.
But if you look into the matter a little more you will notice a great change which comes upon the spirit of the church to-day, and remains during the two following weeks. The Preface of the Mass is not that of Lent, but that of the Cross; the hymns sung at Vespers and at other times are about the cross and our Lord's death upon it; and all the way through the Divine Office you will see evident signs that the church is thinking about this mystery of the cross, the commemoration of which is consummated on Good Friday.
And if you look about the church this morning you will see the pictures all veiled, to tell us that during these two weeks we should think principally of our Lord's suffering and humiliation; that we should, as it were, for a while forget his saints and everything else connected with his glory. And even the cross itself is concealed, for it is after all a sign of triumph and victory to our eyes; it is waiting to be revealed till Good Friday, when the sacrifice shall be accomplished and the victory won.
To-day, then, is called Passion Sunday because it is the opening of this short period, from now till Easter, which the church calls Passion-time.
What practical meaning has this Passion-time for us, my brethren? It means, or should mean, for us sorrow, humiliation, sharing in the Passion of our Lord. Lent, all the way through, is a time of penance; but more especially so is this short season which brings it to a close. Now, surely, is the time, if ever, when we are going to be sorry for our sins, when we cannot help thinking of what they have made our Divine Saviour suffer. Now is the time to think of the malice and ingratitude of sin; to see it as it really is, as the one thing which has turned this earth from a paradise into a place of suffering and sorrow; to see our own sins as they truly are, as the only real evils which have ever happened to us, and to resolve to be rid of them for our own sake and for God's sake; for he has suffered for them as well as we.
Now is the time to go to confession, and to make a better confession than we have ever made before, or ever can make, probably, till Passion-time comes round again. For now is it easier for us to be sorry for our sins, not only because we have everything to show us how hateful they are, but also because God's grace is more liberally given. He has sanctified this time and blessed it for our repentance and conversion. He calls us and helps us always to penance, but never so much as now.
Hear his voice, then, my brethren, and, in the words with which the church begins her office today: "To-day if you shall hear his voice, harden not your hearts." Do not obstinately remain in sin, and put off your repentance and confession to a more favorable time. There is no time nearly as good as this; this is the time which God himself has appointed. You must make your Easter duty, if you would not add another terrible sin to the many which you have already made our Lord bear for you; make it now before Easter comes. Take your share now in the Passion, that you may have your share of the Easter joy.
And there is another reason why you should come now to confession; for there is another unusual grace which God now offers you—the grace of the Jubilee, which you heard announced last Sunday. Now, a Jubilee is not a mere devotion for those who frequent the sacraments; it is a call and an opportunity for those who have neglected them. I beg you not to let it be said that you have allowed this opportunity to go by. Come and give us some work to do in the confessional; the more the better. We will not complain, but will thank you from the bottom of our hearts. The best offering you can make to your priests, as well as to the God whose servants they are, is a crowded confessional and a full altar-rail at this holy Passion-time.
Palm Sunday.
Epistle.
Philippians ii. 5-11.
Brethren:
Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery himself to be equal with God: but debased himself, taking the form of a servant, being made to the likeness of men, and in shape found as a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross. Wherefore God also hath exalted him, and hath given him a name which is above every name: that in the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and in hell. And that every tongue should confess that the Lord Jesus Christ is in the glory of God the Father.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxvii. 62-66.
And the next day, which followed the day of preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees came together to Pilate, saying: Sir, we have remembered that that seducer said, while he was yet alive: After three days I will rise again. Command therefore the sepulchre to be guarded until the third day: lest his disciples come and steal him away, and say to the people, He is risen from the dead: so the last error shall be worse than the first. Pilate said to them: You have a guard; go, guard it as you know. And they departing, made the sepulchre sure with guards, sealing the stone.
Sermon LV.
Behold thy King cometh to thee meek.
—St. Matthew xxi. 5.
Through humility and suffering to exaltation and glory—that is the way our Lord went to heaven, dear brethren, and that is the way we must go if we wish to follow him. To-day is Palm Sunday, the day on which our Lord rode in triumph to begin his Passion. Yes, in triumph; but what an humble one! He rode upon a lowly beast; there were no rich carpets spread along the way, only the poor and well-worn garments of the apostles and of the multitude thrown together with the boughs and branches torn from the wayside trees. All was humble, and doubly so if we think that he was riding to his death. Yes, brethren, those palm-branches were scarce withered, the dust had hardly been shaken from those garments, when the cross was laid upon his shoulders and the thorny crown pressed upon his brow. Dear brethren, let us ask ourselves this morning if we want to go to heaven. Do we want to be where Jesus is now, and where he will be for all eternity? If we do we must follow him through suffering and humility to exaltation and glory. We must be content with little and short happiness in this world; for, as I have said, the triumph of Palm Sunday was short-lived indeed. What followed? Jesus was brought before Pilate. He was condemned to death, forsaken, set at naught, buffeted, mocked, spit upon. He, the innocent Lamb of God, was scourged, stripped of his garments, crowned with thorns. Then upon his poor, torn shoulders was laid a heavy cross, which he carried till he could no longer bear it. And, lastly, outside the city gates they nailed him to that same cross, and he died. But after that came the glory and the triumph—the glory of the resurrection; the triumph over sin, and death, and hell.
Brethren, we needs must think of heaven to-day; the waving palms, the chanted hosannas, all speak to us of that delightful place. We cannot help thinking of that great multitude, clad in white robes and with palms in their hands, of whom St. John speaks, and of those others who cast down their golden crowns before the glassy sea. We want to reach that blessed place; we want to hear the sound of the harpers harping upon their harps; we want to hear the angels' songs and see the flashing of their golden wings; we want to gaze upon Jesus and Mary and all the heavenly host. But, brethren, not yet, not yet. See the long path strewn with stones and briers; see that steep mount with its cross of crucifixion at the top. That way must be trodden, that mountain scaled, that cross be nailed to us and we to it, or ever we may hear the golden harps or the angels' song. Through humility and suffering to exaltation and glory. Oh! let us learn the lesson well this Holy Week. Let us learn it to-day as we follow Jesus to prison and to death; let us learn it on Holy Thursday when we see him humble himself to the form of bread and wine; let us learn it on Good Friday when we kiss his sacred feet pierced with the nails. Yes, let us learn the lesson and never forget it. Heaven has been bought for you. Heaven lies open to you: but there is only one way there, and that way is the way of suffering. So, then, brethren, when your trials come thick and fast; when your temptations seem more than you can endure; when you are pinched by poverty, slighted by your neighbors, forsaken—as it seems to you—even by God himself, then remember the way of the cross. Remember the agony in the garden; remember the mount of Calvary. Grasp the palm firmly in your hand to-day; let it be in fancy the wood of the cross. Cry aloud as you journey on: "Through humility and suffering to exaltation and glory." Keep close to Jesus. Onward to prison! Onward to crucifixion! Onward to death! Onward to what comes afterwards! Resurrection! Reward! Peace!
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LVI.
He humbled himself,
becoming obedient unto death,
even the death of the cross.
—Philippians ii. 8.
We are entering to-day, my dear brethren, on the great week, the Holy Week, as it is called, of the Christian year—the week in which we commemorate the Passion and death of our Lord; and at this time our minds cannot, when we assist at the offices of the church, be occupied with any other thoughts than those which are suggested by his sufferings for our redemption.
And surely there is enough to occupy them not only for one short week, but for all our lives. The Passion of Christ is a mystery which we can never exhaust, in this world or in the world to come. It is the book of the saints, and there is no lesson of perfection which we cannot learn from it. So we must needs look at it to-day only in part, and learn one of its many lessons; and let that be one suggested to us by the words of the text, taken from the Epistle read at the Mass: "He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even the death of the cross."
What is this lesson? It is that of humility, which is the foundation of all supernatural virtues, and yet the last one which most Christians try to acquire.
In fact, it would seem that many people, who are very good in their way, are rather annoyed than edified by the examples of humility that they find in the lives of the saints. It seems to them like hypocrisy when they read that the saints considered themselves the greatest sinners in the world. But it was not hypocrisy; they said what they really felt. They were not in the habit, as most people are, of noticing their neighbors' faults and making the most of them, and of excusing their own. So, though it was not really true that they were such great sinners when compared with others, it seemed to them that it was.
And, moreover, they were willing that others should think them so. In that they differed very much from some whom you would think were saints. The real saints are willing to bear contempt; they are willing to be considered sinners, even in their best actions, as long as God's glory is not in question; and, what is really harder, though it ought not to be, they are willing to be considered fools. Almost any one would rather be thought a knave than a fool. There are very few good people who like to be told of their faults; there are fewer still who like to be told of their blunders.
Now, it is with regard to this matter that we need specially to think of our Saviour's example. He, who could not be deceived, could not believe himself to be a knave or a fool; but he consented that others should consider him so, to set us an example of humility. He was reckoned among sinners in his life as well as in his death; and he hid the treasures of his divine wisdom and knowledge under the appearance of a poor, simple man of the lower classes. But it was in his sacred Passion that his humility is seen most plainly; he became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross; he, our Lord and our God, suffered the most disgraceful punishment that has ever been devised for common criminals.
There is the example, then, my brethren, for us poor sinners to follow. And the humility which we need most is nothing but the pure and simple truth. It is nothing but getting rid of the absurd notion that we are wiser and better than other people whom anybody else can see are our equals or superiors; for, strangely enough, it is always hardest to be humble when it is most clear that we ought to be. And depend on it, it is high time to set about acquiring this virtue; for, simple as it seems, to get even as much as this of it will take, for most of us, all our lives.
Sermon LVII.
I will say a few words to you this morning, my brethren, on the Jubilee just proclaimed by our Holy Father.
What is a Jubilee? It is the proclamation of a great spiritual favor which may be obtained by any Catholic in the world during a specified time. This spiritual favor is a special plenary indulgence which, if gained in a way that perfectly fulfils all the conditions and completely satisfies the intentions of the church, will surely wipe out not only all the actual sins one has committed in all his life before, but take away also all the temporal punishment one would have to undergo in this life or in purgatory on account of those sins, be they great or small.
No wonder that all the children of the Catholic Church rejoice to hear such a favor proclaimed by their Holy Father, and that everybody is so anxious to partake of its benefits.
What is to be done? Just what the Pope says, and in a way specially directed for his diocesans by each bishop. There are visits to be made to certain churches, and prayers to be said there. There is a fast to be observed on one day. There are alms to be given. There is confession to be made and Holy Communion to be received. And all to be done by or before next Pentecost Sunday.
First. The visits. For this city there are three churches named by His Eminence the Cardinal—viz., St. Patrick's Cathedral, St. Stephen's, and the Church of the Epiphany. Each one of these three churches must be visited twice. All the visits may be made in one day or on different days, and one may, if he pleases, pay the two visits to the same church at once before going to another.
Second. Prayers are to be said in the churches; and they ought, of course, to be devout ones, and offered for all the intentions laid down by the Holy Father. No particular prayers are prescribed. One can hear Mass, or say the beads, or say five times the Our Father and Hail Mary, or one of the Litanies; or any of these prayers will do.
Third. The fast. This may be in Lent or after, on any day that meat is allowed. But on the day you choose for the fast you must also abstain from meat.
Fourth. The alms. The amount or kind is not prescribed, but is left to your own generosity. It may be in money, in food, or in clothing, and it may be given to an orphan asylum or other such charitable institution, or to build a church. It may be given when making the visits; and special alms-boxes will be found in those churches to be visited, into which the offering can be put.
Fifth. Confession and Communion; and both ought to be prepared for and made the very best one can. Moreover, as one gains the more merit by doing actions in a state of grace, one will likely make the Jubilee better if he begins by making a good confession. Now is the time for great sinners to return to God and obtain his merciful forgiveness; for the Pope has given special privileges to confessors, in order that they may absolve the hardest kind of cases. Let no one, therefore, despair, nor think himself too hard a case. That is what the Jubilee is for—to bring down the mercy and forgiveness of God upon this sinful generation. To ensure this the father of the faithful sets the whole Catholic world together praying, and fasting, and giving alms, and confessing their sins, and making holy, devout communion, so as to take heaven by storm, as our Lord said we might. "For the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent bear it away." What a sublime spectacle, which only the Catholic Church can show—two hundred and fifty millions of people all turning to God at once! No wonder the Catholic Church saves the world. Look out that you are not found, in eternity, to be one of those whom she failed to turn to God, and lost for ever because you would not hear her instruction and counsel, nor be guided by her into the way of eternal life.
Easter Sunday.
Epistle.
I Corinthians v, 7, 8.
Brethren:
Purge out the old leaven, that you may be a new mass, as you are unleavened. For Christ, our pasch, is sacrificed. Therefore let us feast, not with the old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
Gospel.
St. Mark xvi. 1-7.
At that time:
Mary Magdalen, and Mary the mother of James and Salome, bought sweet spices, that coming they might anoint Jesus. And very early in the morning, the first day of the week, they come to the sepulchre, the sun being now risen. And they said one to another: Who shall roll us back the stone from the door of the sepulchre? And looking, they saw the stone rolled back, for it was very great. And entering into the sepulchre, they saw a young man sitting on the right side, clothed with a white robe: and they were astonished. And he said to them: Be not affrighted; ye seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified: he is risen, he is not here; behold the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he goeth before you into Galilee; there you shall see him as he told you.
Sermon LVIII.
Mary Magdalen.
—St. Mark xvi. 1.
Dear brethren, you have all felt the great contrast that there is between the awful rites of Good Friday and the joy of to-day. Still fresh in your minds is the memory of the darkened church, the uplifted crucifix, the wailing of the reproaches. You remember, too, "the silence that might be felt" that reigned in God's temple on Holy Saturday. You can recall how still the church seemed yesterday at early morning, just as if some awful deed had been done there the day before; you may remember how unspeakably solemn seemed the silent procession to the porch to bless the new fire; how quiet and subdued all that followed. But suddenly a voice rang out into the darkness—the voice of the sacrificing priest at the altar; an "exceeding great cry" pierced the stillness, and instantly every veil fell; the sunlight streamed in through every window; chiming bells, pealing organ, and choral voices burst upon your senses; everything seemed to say, "He is risen! he is risen!" And we felt it was almost too much, almost more than the feeble human heart could bear and not break for very joy. If, then, this contrast is so marked and this joy so great after a lapse of eighteen hundred years and more, oh! what must have been the joy of the first Easter day. The first crucifix bore no ivory or metal figure; it had nailed to it the flesh of the Son of God. The first Good Friday was no commemoration of an event; it was the event itself. Oh! then how great, how great beyond mind to imagine or tongue to tell, must have been the joy of the first Easter. Jesus had died, left all his beloved. He had been buried, and there he rested in the quiet garden. Very early in the morning come Mary Magdalen and the other women to the tomb. The sun was just rising; the flowers of that blessed garden were just awaking; the dew-drops sparkled like rubies in the red sunrise; the vines and the creepers, fresh with their morning sweetness, hung clustering round the sacred tomb. To that spot the women hasten; the sun rises; she, Mary Magdalen, stoops down; her Lord is not there, but lo! the great stone is rolled away; a bright angel sits thereon; other angelic spirits are in the tomb. The angel speaks: "He is risen; he is not here. Behold, he goes before you to Galilee. Alleluia! alleluia!" The Lord is risen indeed. And now, brethren, wishing you every joy that this holy feast can bring, I will ask the question. Where or of whom shall we learn our Easter lesson? We will learn it from her whose name, whose lovely, saintly name, forms the text of this discourse. In pointing you to Mary Magdalen, the great saint of the Resurrection, I do but follow the mind of the church; for in today's sequence the whole universal church calls upon her, "Die nobis, Maria, quid vidistis in via?"—Declare to us, Mary! what sawest thou in the way? She saw the sepulchre of Christ, in which were buried her many sins. In the way, the sorrowful way of the cross, she saw the Passion of Christ; in the way, the glorious way of the triumph of Christ, she saw the glory of the Risen One and the angel witnesses. Oh! is not our lesson plain? Like Magdalen, let us see the sepulchre, and let us cast our sins in there. Let us see the way of the cross and walk therein; let us see the glory of the Risen One and the angel witnesses in the heavenly kingdom. O poor, repentant sinners! you who during Lent have kissed the feet of Jesus and stood beneath his cross in the confessional, what a day of joy, what a lesson of consolation comes to you! Who was it upon whom fell the first ray of Resurrection glory? Who is it upon whom the great voice of the church liturgy, in the Holy Sacrifice, calls to-day? Ah! it was and is upon the "sometime sinner, Mary." Joy! joy! for the forgiven sinner to-day. Alleluia! alleluia! to you, blood-washed children of Jesus Christ; for she who saw the Master first was once a sinner—a sinner like unto you. Alleluia, and joy and peace, unto you all in Jesus' name, and in the name of the redeemed and pardoned Mary! Alleluia, and joy and peace! whether you be sinner as she was, or saint as she became. Alleluia, and joy and peace! for "Christ our hope hath risen, and he shall go before us into Galilee." Alleluia, and joy and peace! for we know that Christ hath risen from the dead. Lord, we know that we are feeble and sinful, but lead, "Conquering King," lead on; go thou before to the heavenly Galilee. Time was when we feared to follow; but she, "more than martyr and more than virgin"—she, Mary Magdalen, is in thy train, and, penitent like her, we follow thee. Alleluia, and joy and peace, to young and old! Alleluia, and joy and peace, to saint and pardoned sinner! for Christ hath risen from the dead.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LIX.
He is risen.
—St. Mark xvi. 6.
This is Easter Sunday, and the heart of every Christian is full of joy; for on this day the voice of God is heard assuring us that the dead can and will rise again to enter upon a new and never-dying life. To die is to suffer the most poignant grief, the greatest loss, the most grievous pain that man is called upon to endure.
However long or sweet may be the pleasure of the draught of life, and health, and prosperity that one may drink, all must find this one bitter drop at the bottom of the cup. It is death; and if God himself did not tell us, how could we know but that it is the end of all? "But now Christ is risen from the dead and become the first fruits of them that sleep." Who says Christ is risen again? God. How do we hear his voice of truth, which cannot deceive nor be deceived? We hear him when we hear the voice of his divine church, which he has made "the pillar and the ground of the truth." This is, then, her joyful and triumphant news to-day. All who die shall rise again from the dead, because our Saviour, Jesus Christ, first of all rose from the dead, and promised that the change of a similar resurrection should come upon all mankind. And I say again that we know that to be true because the Catholic Church, the only divine voice there is in the world, assures us that it is true. Bitter as death may be, the hope of the resurrection is its complete antidote. Now I understand why the words, "a happy death," is so common a speech among Catholics. It implies an act of faith in the resurrection, and a confidence that he who dies has not only prepared himself to die but also to rise again. This is an important reflection to make on Easter Sunday, for there is a resurrection unto eternal life and a resurrection unto damnation, which, compared to eternal life, is eternal death. A philosopher said: "Happy is that man who, when he comes to die, has nothing left but to die." But the Christian says: "Happy is that man who, when he comes to die, leaves the world and all he has to do or might do in it, sure of a happy and glorious resurrection."
All Catholics believe that they will rise again from the dead, but I am free to say that many of them do not prove their faith by their works. They seem to think so much of this world, and give so much of their thoughts and words and actions to it, that certainly no heathen would imagine for a moment that they thought even death possible, or that there was any future state to get ready for. I wonder how any one of us would act or what we would be thinking about, if we were absolutely sure that in less than an hour's notice we would some day be called to be made a bishop or a pope, or a king or queen; or would be carried off to a desert island, and left there to starve and die without help.
We do not believe either fortune likely to happen to any of us, therefore we do not prepare for it. Alas! so many Catholics do not prepare for the sudden call to rise to a glory and dignity far higher than that of any prelate or prince, or to sink to a miserable state infinitely worse than to starve and die on a desert island; and why not? I say the heathen would answer, because they do not believe that either fortune will be likely to happen to them. If they did their lives would prove their faith.
Now, I know I have set some of you thinking, and that has just been my purpose. Have I a right to participate in the Easter joy of to-day, or am I only making an outside show of it, while my conscience tells me I am a hypocrite? Have I kept the commandments of God and of the church? Have I made my Easter duty, or resolved to make it? What kind of a life would I rise to on the day of resurrection, if I died to-night? What would Jesus Christ, my Judge and Saviour, find in me that looked like him, and therefore ought to give me the same glorious resurrection as he had? Dear brethren, that is what he wants to find in us all. That is what he died to give us. That is what the Holy Spirit is striving hard to help every one of us to obtain. Come, a little more courage, and let us rise now from all that is deathly, or dead, or corrupt, or rotten in this life we are leading, and Jesus will be sure to find in us what will fashion us unto the likeness of his own resplendent and divine resurrection to eternal life.
Sermon LX.
Christ, our pasch, is sacrificed.
Therefore let us feast,
not with the old leaven
nor with the leaven of malice and wickedness,
but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth.
—1 Corinthians v, 7, 8.
There are none of us, my dear brethren, I am sure, who can fail on this Easter morning to have something of the spirit of joy which fills the church at this time, and which runs through all her offices at this season. "This is the day that the Lord hath made," she is continually saying to us; "let us rejoice and be glad in it."
Yes, we are all glad now; we all have something of the Easter spirit, in spite of the troubles and sorrows which are perhaps weighing on us, and from which we shall never be quite free till we celebrate Easter in heaven—in that blessed country where death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more; where God shall dwell with us, and he himself with us shall be our God.
But what is the cause of our joy? Is it merely that the season of penance through which we have just passed is over, that the church no longer commands us to fast and mortify ourselves? That may, indeed, be one reason, for there are certainly not a great many people who enjoy fasting and abstinence; but there should be another and a much better one. It should be that Lent has not left us just where it found us; that we can say to-day not only that Christ has risen, but that we also have risen with him.
Yes, my brethren, that is the joy that you ought to be feeling at this time. What is Easter, or Christmas, or any other feast of the church worth without the grace of God? It is no more than any secular holiday; merely a time for amusement, for sensual indulgence, and too often an occasion of sin. If you are happy to-day with any happiness that is really worth having, it is then because you have the grace of God in your souls, either by constant habits of virtue, or by a good confession and communion which you have made to-day or lately. It is now, as at the last day, only to those who are really and truly the friends of Christ that he can say: "Well done, good and faithful servant: … enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." For this is the day, the great day of his joy; and it is only by being united with him that you can share in it.
This, then, is the desire which I have when I wish you to-day a happy Easter, as I do with my whole heart: that if you have not made your Easter duty, you will make it soon; and that if you have made it, you will persevere—that, having risen from the dead, you will die no more. It is the wish compared with which all others are as nothing; for the happiness of the world is but for a few short years, but the joy of the soul is meant to last for ever.
And if you would have it, there is one thing above all which you must do—which you must have done, if you have made a really good communion. Holy church reminds us of it in a prayer which is said today at Mass, and which is repeated frequently through the Easter season. This is to put away all that old leaven of malice and wickedness, that spirit of hatred and uncharitableness for your neighbor, which is so apt to rankle in your hearts. If you would be friends with God you must be friends with all his children. Let there be no one whom you will not speak to, whom you would avoid or pass by. When there has been a quarrel one of the two must make the first advances to reconciliation; try to have the merit of being that one, even though you think, probably wrongly, that you were not at all in fault. This day, when we meet to receive the blessing of our risen Saviour, is the day above all others for making friends. Unite, then, with your whole hearts in this prayer of the church which I am now about to read at the altar, first translating it for you: "Pour forth on us, Lord! the spirit of thy charity, that by thy mercy thou mayest make those to agree together whom thou hast fed with thy paschal mysteries; through Christ our Lord. Amen."
Low Sunday.
Epistle.
1 St. John v. 4-10.
Dearly beloved:
Whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world; and this is the victory which overcometh the world, our faith. Who is he that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that Jesus is the Son of God? This is he that came by water and blood, Jesus Christ; not in water only, but in water and blood. And it is the spirit that testifieth, that Christ is the truth. For there are three that give testimony in heaven, the Father, the Word, and the Holy Ghost. And these three are one. And there are three that give testimony on earth: the spirit, the water, and the blood, and these three are one. If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater. For this is the testimony of God, which is greater, because he hath testified of his Son. He that believeth in the Son of God, hath the testimony of God in himself.
Gospel.
St. John xx. 19-31.
At that time:
When it was late that same day, being the first day of the week, and the doors were shut, where the disciples were gathered together for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood in the midst, and said to them: Peace be to you. And when he had said this, he showed them his hands, and his side. The disciples therefore were glad when they saw the Lord. And he said to them again: Peace be to you. As the Father hath sent me, I also send you. When he had said this he breathed on them; and he said to them: Receive ye the Holy Ghost. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose you shall retain, they are retained. Now Thomas, one of the twelve, who is called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said to him: We have seen the Lord. But he said to them: Unless I shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe. And after eight days his disciples were again within, and Thomas with them. Jesus cometh, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said: Peace be to you. Then he saith to Thomas: Put in thy finger hither, and see my hands; and bring hither thy hand, and put it into my side; and be not incredulous, but faithful. Thomas answered, and said to him: My Lord, and my God. Jesus saith to him: Because thou hast seen me, Thomas, thou hast believed; blessed are they that have not seen, and have believed. Many other signs also did Jesus in the sight of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God: and that believing you may have life in his name.
Sermon LXI.
Unless I shall see in his hands
the print of the nails,
and put my finger into the place of the nails,
and put my hand into his side,
I will not believe.
—St. John xx. 25.
"It is no vain question," says Father Matthias Faber, of the Society of Jesus, from whose writings this sermon is adapted—"it is no vain question whether we do not owe more to St. Thomas, who was slow in believing the fact of Christ's resurrection, than to the other apostles, who credited it instantly." Then he goes on to quote St. Gregory, who says that "the doubt of St. Thomas really removed all doubt, and placed the fact that our Lord had really risen with his human body beyond all dispute." So today, following the good Jesuit father, I am going to be St Thomas. I shall hear from many of you something of this kind: "O father! I am so delighted: my wife or my husband, my son, my brother, my friend, has risen from the dead. He or she has been to confession, given up his bad habits, come again into our midst; has been to Communion, has said, Peace be to you, has altogether reformed and become good." Ah! indeed. Is that so? Of course it is quite possible; but towards those whose resurrection you announce to me I am St. Thomas this morning, and say to them: "Unless I shall see in their hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into their side, I will not believe." In a word, I will not believe that any of you have risen from the dead, I will not believe that you have come out of the grave of mortal sin, unless I see in you the signs of a former crucifixion. First, I want to see the print of the nails. I want to see in your hands and feet—that is, in your inclinations and passions—the print of the nails that the priest drove in, in the confessional. I want to see that these hands strike no more, handle no more bad books, pass no more bad money, write no more evil letters, sign no more fraudulent documents, are stretched forth no more unto evil things, raised no more to curse. I want to see these hands lifted in prayer, stretched out to give alms, extended in mercy, busy in toiling for God and his church. I want to see these hands smoothing the pillows of the sick, giving drink to the thirsty, food to the hungry, and raiment to the naked. I want to see the print of the nails, or I will not believe. These feet, too—I must see them bearing you to the confessional regularly, taking you to Mass, carrying you to Benediction, bent under you in prayer. In a word, I must see in you the signs of a true conversion, or I will not believe that you have really risen from the death of sin. Then, like St. Thomas, I must "put my finger into the place of the nails." That is, when you are taken down from the cross, when, as it were, you have persevered for quite a while in God's service, I want at any time to be able to assure myself that the wound is really there. I want to be sure that those old charlatans, the world and the flesh, haven't been round and healed those wounds with their salve of roses, their pleasures of life, and their elixir of youth. I want to know for certain that you have, by God's grace, raised your body from the grave, having first nailed it to the cross, and to be sure that it is the same body. I want to put my finger into the scars of crucifixion. Lastly, I want to put my hand into your side to see if the heart is wounded. I want to see if there is true contrition there. I want to find out if the old designs, the old loves, the old plans are driven out; I want to find out if that heart has really upon it the scar of the spear of God. O brethren! to say, "I have risen with Christ," is an easy thing; for others to tell the priest that you are truly converted presents no difficulty; but I am St. Thomas, and I want to see the wounds. Then what a consolation for the priest if he can perceive plainly the print of the nails, put his hand into the place of the nails, and put his hand into the side! Then, like St. Thomas, he can cry: "My Lord and my God." For in the truly crucified and converted sinner he can see clearly the work of the Almighty. Ah! then, brethren, strive to crucify your flesh every day; strive to know nothing but Jesus, and him crucified. Try to bear about in your bodies the "stigmata of the Lord Jesus," for they will be your best credentials on earth and your brightest glory in heaven.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LXII.
For this is the charity of God,
that we keep his commandments.
—1 St. John v. 3.
We have in these words the infallible test of a true Christian life. He alone truly loves God who keeps his commandments. I once heard of a man who used to get down on his knees every morning and recite the Ten Commandments as a part of his morning prayers. I believe that that man's religion was practical. He certainly had in his mind the right idea of what religion meant. We are apt to keep the commandments too much in the background. True, we have them and know them well enough, but they don't shine out in our lives as they should. Here is a man that prays, but don't pay his honest debts. Here is another that always goes to Mass, but has the habit of cursing. Another is honest and just with his neighbors, but, as everybody knows, gets drunk.
People sometimes talk about the difficulties of having faith; but this is not where the trouble lies. The real struggle and conflict of religion is to correct the morals of men. True religion insists upon the keeping of the commandments, and that is why it is so repugnant to men. Faith is easy to the virtuous; if men wished to be moral there would be no difficulties about faith. We sometimes hear people say: "Your religion is a perfect tyranny." Yes, if you choose to call the Ten Commandments tyranny. This is the only tyranny that I have ever found. I think, also, that every Catholic will testify that these Ten Commandments are what really make religion hard, and that if these could only be set aside men would never complain of its being hard. I never heard of a Catholic who was willing to keep the Ten Commandments who thought that anything else connected with his religion was hard. Here we have, then, in a nutshell, the whole secret of the opposition of men to the true religion; but, inconsistent as it may seem and really is, men, while they hate, have yet to admire what they hate. An apostate monk may set himself up as a reformer and talk about "justification by faith alone," but the world laughs at such nonsense. It trembles, though, when it hears our Lord say: "Every tree, therefore, that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be cut down and cast into the fire." "If any man loves me he will keep my commandments." This pretended reformer, Doctor Martin Luther, who called that wonderful Epistle of St. James, in which we are taught that "faith without good works is dead," "an epistle of straw," proved, however, to the world by his own life that it was this straw of being obliged to keep the commandments which broke his back, as it has broken the backs of so many others. But people do not have to leave the church to be thus broken, for we have in the bosom of the church, also, those who try to have piety without morality; but they are the hypocrites, the sham followers of Christ. They will some day, unless they speedily change their lives, hear our Lord saying to them: "I never knew you; depart from me, ye that work iniquity." Ah! may we not some of us have good reason to fear that we shall one day be judged as hypocrites? The bankrupt merchant is afraid to look at his books, and trembles at the thought of attempting to calculate his liabilities; so those false Christians dare not look at the law of God to examine their lives by it. But, to their shame and grief, the day of reckoning will come. The devil may whisper to such, "Soul, take thy ease," but, thank God! there is the voice of God's church, which will not allow us to delude ourselves.
If we Catholics go to hell it will be with our eyes wide open. The waves of passion can never drown that voice. It will always tell us of our sins, and will never let us be content in being hearers of the law, unless we are also doers. This is the way which is certainly pointed out to us; "and it shall be called the holy way."
Sermon LXIII.
Jesus came, and stood in the midst,
and said to them, Peace be to you.
—St. John xx. 26.
In spite of there being so much fighting in the world, I think, my brethren, that there are not many of us who really like it for its own sake, or who would not rather have peace. Of course we are not willing to sacrifice everything for it; we do not want peace at any price. We do not want the peace of slavery—that which comes from being beaten. We want an honorable one—that which comes from having had the best of our adversary in a just war.
There is another kind of peace besides these two. It is that which comes from being let alone. But that is something which is not intended for us in this world. Somebody will always be interfering with us; if nobody else does, the devil, at any rate, will be sure to do so. No, arrange it as we may, our life will always be full of annoyances and conflicts, both from without and from within.
And this kind of peace was not what our Lord wished and gave to his apostles on that glorious day when he arose from the dead. He knew very well that they, of all men in the world, were not going to be let alone. They were going to be put in the very front of the battle. Not only their neighbors but the whole world was going to rise up against them; and Satan, with his infernal host, was going to single them out as the special objects of his hatred and vengeance.
No, the peace which our Lord gave to his apostles was not this, but that which comes from victory. And that is the peace which he wishes us also to have.
Over whom, then, are we going to be victorious? In the first place, over the devil and all his temptations.
Many Christians, I am sorry to say, make the opposite kind of peace with the devil—that is, the peace of slavery; one which they would be ashamed to make with anybody else. Should they be tempted by him to impurity, drunkenness, hatred, or blasphemy, they give in and strike their colors at once. Being tempted and sinning are all the same thing to them. Well, they have peace in a certain way by this; that is, the devil, when he finds what miserable and cowardly soldiers of Christ they are, does not trouble himself much about them. He feels pretty sure of them; they are his prisoners of war, and it is for his interest to treat them well as long as they are in this world.
Yes, if you want to make peace with the devil you can surrender to him at once. But shame, I say, on such a peace as this! It is a base, contemptible, and cowardly one, and it will not last long. Satan only waits for this life to be over to satisfy all his malice and hatred on those he now seems to love.
But you may have, if you will, the peace and satisfaction of victory over him. Make up your mind to have it—to have it every time he tempts you. It is not so hard as you think; it is easy by the merits of our Lord's sacred Passion, which are at your command. He showed this to his apostles on that first Easter day, when he said to them: "Peace be to you." He showed them his hands and his side, bearing those glorious wounds, the marks and the pledge of victory.
And you can also have the peace of victory over all others who trouble you in this world, however unjust and strong they may be. How? Why, in the same way as our Lord and his apostles had it. Not by fighting with them, and giving back as good as you get—no, but by giving much better than you get; by doing them all the good you can. Evil is not to be conquered by evil, but by good. "Love your enemies; do good to them that hate you"; that is what the Eternal Wisdom has said; that is the way to have victory and peace, not only in the next world but also in this; and the sooner you believe it and act on it the happier will you be.
Second Sunday after Easter.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter ii. 21-25.
Dearly beloved:
Christ has suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Who, when he was reviled, did not revile: when he suffered, he threatened not: but delivered himself to him that judged him unjustly. Who his own self bore our sins in his body upon the tree: that we, being dead to sins, should live to justice: by whose stripes you were healed. For you were as sheep going astray: but you are now converted to the pastor and bishop of your souls.
Gospel.
St John x. 11-16.
At that time:
Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling, and he that is not the shepherd, whose own sheep they are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth; and the wolf snatcheth and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling: and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me. As the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.
Sermon LXIV.
I am the Good Shepherd.
—St. John x. 11.
It is not requisite for me to prove to you, dear brethren, that our Lord was and is, in every sense, the "Good Shepherd," nor is it my intention to speak of him this morning in that character. I want to bring this fact before your minds—namely, that although the "great Shepherd and Bishop of our souls" has gone from us, yet he has left other authorized pastors to take charge of his flock. The Pope is a shepherd, the bishops are shepherds, and, to bring it down close to you, the priests of God's church are shepherds. You and your children are the sheep and the lambs of Christ's flock; we are your shepherds appointed by Jesus Christ to feed you, to watch over you, to keep you in the fold, to check you when you want to go astray. Now, then, every priest can say, "I am the good shepherd." And what does a good shepherd do? First, he tends his flock with care; and, secondly, he derives from it his means of support. Now, brethren, the priest's duty is to watch over and care for you; and that he does so you will not deny. He must hear your confessions, give you Holy Communion, come to you when you are ill, administer the sacraments to you, advise you, preach to you, instruct you, shield you from the wolves and seek you when you are lost, and often serve you at the risk of his own life. Now, the priest does all these things, not because he is paid, not because the people hire him and pay him a salary, but simply and solely because he is the good shepherd; because it is his mission, his office to do so; because he is placed over you by authority. Now, it follows from this that it is your duty to be fed, to be kept in the fold, to be checked when you are going wrong, to hear his voice and obey him. I am afraid some don't understand this. How is it we hear of milk-and-water Catholics going to be married before magistrates, or, what is worse, before ministers of a false religion? How is it that we find Catholics denying their faith and going to a Protestant place of worship for the sake of a little food and clothing? The priest has God's own authority; you are the sheep. The priest has you in charge. God does not come and ask you if you would like a shepherd; he places one over you, and that he may guide you, and not that you may guide him. I say this for the benefit of those who are always talking about their priests, always picking holes in the conduct of their pastors. Such people forget their position, forget their obligations, and make themselves appear very ignorant, much wanting in faith, and very impertinent. Again, the shepherd lives by his flock; so the priest must be supported by the people. A priest has a body as well as you have, and he can't live on air or on shavings. Then he wants to build and keep in repair God's temples. He wants money to build schools and support them; he wants money to feed and clothe the poor. He wants money because it is your duty to give it; for one of the laws of the church is, "To pay tithes to your pastors." Often, too, it is a great kindness for us to accept some of your worldly riches, which otherwise would, perhaps, prevent your entry into heaven. We can do with the riches what the shepherd does with his wool: make clothes for the naked and destitute, exchange what we get for building and decorating God's church, and a hundred other things of which you, the sheep, and your children, the lambs of Christ's flock, will get the heavenly merit and the everlasting profit. Oh! then, brethren, have faith, try always to cling to the priest as the good shepherd, so that at the last day we may call you all by name, and find that of the little flock of sheep and lambs not one is missing.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LXV.
Christ suffered for us,
leaving you an example
that you should follow his steps.
—1 St. Peter ii. 21.
The holy church is not going to let us forget the cross, my brethren, even in this joyous Easter season. There is a prayer, or Commemoration of the Cross, which she orders to be said in the divine Office even more frequently now than during the rest of the year; and here in the Epistle of to-day she warns us that we all must take up our cross as our Lord took his, if we would have a share in the triumph which we now celebrate.
"Christ," says St. Peter, "left us an example that we should follow in his steps." St. Peter had not forgotten those words which his Master after his resurrection spoke to him on the shore of the Sea of Galilee: "Do thou follow me." He tried to do it; and he did follow his Lord in a life of toil and suffering, ended by a painful death on the cross like to that which his Saviour had borne. He followed the example which had been set him; he believed what he says in this Epistle of his, and acted on it. How is it with us?
Many Christians seem to imagine that our Lord, by his resurrection, took away, or ought to have taken away, all trouble from the earth. They cannot understand how it is that in this redeemed world, whose sins his Blood has expiated, the cross still keeps coming down on them at every turn. They honor the cross, and are grateful for the redemption which it has brought them; but even when they kiss it on Good Friday they do not understand that they have got to take it, embrace it, and bear it themselves.
And yet that is the fact. The cross is to free us from eternal suffering, but not from that which passes away. Our Lord did not suffer in order that we might have no suffering at all, but that we might be able to bear our sufferings better, and to bear greater ones than we could otherwise have borne. He might have redeemed us without suffering as he did; but one of the reasons why he did not choose to was that we, the guilty, to whom the cross belongs, may bear it cheerfully when we see Him who was innocent taking it on his shoulders.
But why did not our Lord suffer enough to free us from suffering at all? I think there are not many who are ungenerous enough to ask such a question plainly, though it seems to be in a great many people's minds. Well, I will tell you why he left us a share of his cup. It was for the same reason that he took his own share: it was because he loved us, and chose what was for our best good. And he knew it was better for us to be saved through our own sufferings as far as possible. They could not be enough of themselves; so he did what was enough, and then enough more to bring down our own share to just what we could make the best use of with his grace and by his example.
That is the reason, then, why the cross is left in the world. Try to see it and acknowledge it yourselves; that is better than to have the cross meeting you as a strange and unaccountable thing. For it will meet you at Easter as well as at other times of the year; even when you are happiest there will always be some cloud in your sky. There will never be any real and true Easter for you till you shall, like your Redeemer, have exchanged this temporal life for that which is eternal. But do not be too much in a hurry for that time. He knows best how much suffering is good for you. Count it a joy and an honor that he has thought you worthy to follow in his steps, and thank him for the example which he has given you to help him to do so, as well as for his merits which he has also given you that your following might not be in vain.
Sermon LXVI.
And other sheep I have
that are not of this fold;
them also I must bring,
and they shall hear my voice,
and there shall be one fold
and one shepherd.
—St. John x. 16.
If we only knew how much our Lord loves those "other sheep" who are not in the one true fold, we should think and act differently from what we do towards them. As we look upon the sacred image of our Divine Lord upon the cross, we behold his arms and hands stretched to their utmost extent to embrace the whole world.
He is the second Adam, who came to undo the work of the first Adam; and as the terrible consequences of the first transgression have extended to all men without exception, so, also, to repair this evil which has come upon all men it was necessary that the grace of salvation should be offered to all without exception. And from this we may infer that God does not simply will that men should be saved, but that he actually gives to every man that is born sufficient grace to accomplish this great work. But are those who stay outside of the one fold in the way to use this sufficient grace? Certainly they are not, or our Lord never would have said: "Them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd." No one, therefore, can be said to be in the way of salvation who stays outside of the one true fold of the Catholic Church. We cannot, of course, know what extraordinary means of grace God may use for those who are ignorant of the church, yet we do know with perfect certainty that the Catholic Church, with its doctrine, sacraments, and other means of grace, is the only divinely-established means of salvation for all men.
Knowing, then, that our Divine Lord, inasmuch as he died for all men, wills to bring all men into the one true fold, where they may be under one shepherd, we must feel it to be our duty, if we have the love of Christ in our hearts, by our prayers, words, and good example to bring the "other sheep" of whom our Lord speaks so lovingly to the knowledge of this one fold. It is only a coldness of faith and charity which can make us look upon those who are outside of the church as if they were already where they ought to be, and where God wishes them to be, or make us think that it is a hopeless task to try to bring them into the true church. Our Lord has promised that they shall hear his voice. We know, then, that he will co-operate by his all-powerful grace with what we do for their salvation.
Our first duty is that of prayer for these "other sheep." Every prayer that we offer up for the conversion of infidels and heretics will be heard, and will bring down upon them additional grace. Prayer opened the hearts of the Irish people, when they were in the darkness of paganism, to receive the true faith from St. Patrick. In our own day, also, prayer has brought thousands of Protestants and infidels into the true church. Father Ignatius Spencer, of the Order of Passionists, was raised up by God to spread among the Catholics of Ireland and England the devotion of prayers for England, and we behold the results of these prayers in the great "Oxford movement," which brought so many into the church and has opened the way for so many more conversions. Can we ever by our words bring others into the church? Yes. An explanation of some point of Catholic doctrine, an invitation to come and hear a sermon, the lending of a Catholic book, may be the means which God has chosen for the conversion of our Protestant neighbor. "Who knows," said St. Alphonsus Liguori, "what God requires of me? Perhaps the predestination of certain souls may be attached to some of my prayers, penances, and good works."
But, above all, by our good example we should lead others into the "one fold." "Actions speak louder than words," but woe to us if our actions belie the truth of our faith! What shall we answer if accused before the tribunal of God by souls who would have known and have been saved by the truth but for our bad example? We must never forget, dear brethren, our duty towards those "other sheep" for whom our Lord died just as much as he did for us.
Third Sunday after Easter.
Feast of the Patronage of St. Joseph.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter ii. 11-19.
Dearly beloved, I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims to refrain yourselves from carnal desires, which war against the soul; having your conversation good among the Gentiles; that whereas they speak against you as evil-doers, considering you by your good works they may glorify God in the day of visitation. Be ye subject therefore to every human creature for God's sake; whether it be to the king as excelling, or to governors as sent by him for the punishment of evil-doers and for the praise of the good; for so is the will of God, that by doing well you may silence the ignorance of foolish men: as free, and not as making liberty a cloak of malice, but as the servants of God. Honor all men; love the brotherhood; fear God; honor the king. Servants, be subject to your masters with all fear, not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward. For this is thankworthy, in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Epistle of the Feast.
Genesis xlix. 22-26.
Joseph is a growing son, a growing son and comely to behold; the daughters run to and fro upon the wall. But they that held darts provoked him, and quarrelled with him, and envied him. His bow rested upon the strong, and the bands of his arms and his hands were loosed by the hands of the mighty one of Jacob: thence he came forth a pastor, the stone of Israel. The God of thy Father shall be thy helper, and the Almighty shall bless thee with the blessings of heaven above, with the blessings of the deep that lieth beneath, with the blessings of the breasts and of the womb. The blessings of thy father are strengthened with the blessings of his fathers: until the desire of the everlasting hills should come; may they be upon the head of Joseph, and upon the crown of the Nazarite among his brethren.
Gospel.
St. John xvi. 16-22.
At that tine: Jesus said to his disciples: A little while, and now you shall not see me: and again a little while, and you shall see me: because I go to the Father. Then some of his disciples said one to another: What is this that he saith to us: A little while, and you shall not see me: and again a little while, and you shall see me, and because I go to the Father? They said therefore: What is this that he saith, a little while? we know not what he speaketh. And Jesus knew that they were desirous to ask him; and he said to them: Of this do you inquire among yourselves, because I said: A little while, and you shall not see me: and again a little while, and you shall see me? Amen, amen I say to you, that you shall lament and weep, but the world shall rejoice: and you shall be sorrowful, but your sorrow shall be turned into joy. A woman, when she is in labor, hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but when she hath brought forth the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world. So also you now indeed have sorrow, but I will see you again, and your heart shall rejoice; and your joy no man shall take from you.
Gospel of the Feast.
St. Luke iii. 21-23.
At that time it came to pass, when all the people were baptized, that Jesus also being baptized and praying, heaven was opened: and the Holy Ghost descended in a bodily shape as a dove upon him: and a voice came from heaven: Thou art my beloved Son, in thee I am well pleased. And Jesus himself was beginning about the age of thirty years: being (as it was supposed) the son of Joseph.
Sermon LXVII.
Our Holy Father, Pope Pius IX., as you know, dear brethren, has made his reign glorious by defining the dogma of the Immaculate Conception; thus placing in our dear Lady's diadem the brightest gem that adorns it. He has further rendered his pontificate glorious by declaring the chaste spouse of Mary Immaculate, St. Joseph, to be the patron of the universal church. When we celebrated the feast of St. Joseph, on the 19th of last month, his statue was veiled by the hangings of Passion-tide; but today his image is exposed to our gaze, and I have thought that this discourse cannot be better occupied than by considering how fitting it is that good St. Joseph should be the patron of the universal church, and how great a devotion we should have towards him.
St. Joseph is a fitting patron for the rich and for those whom God has placed in the high positions and stations of this world; for let us never forget that St. Joseph, although poor, was, by lineal descent, of the royal house of David. He was of high birth, of noble blood, and yet how humble, how willing to work for his living when it became necessary!
So, then, here is a lesson for those who hold their heads high in the world. Some day, dear friends, you may come down, you may be brought low. You may lose your money, lose position, lose your place in society. Take example, then, from St. Joseph. Do not say like the unjust steward: "To dig I am unable, and to beg I am ashamed"; but remember that the fairest hands that ever were, and the noblest blood that ever flowed, are never disgraced by honest labor or necessary toil.
St. Joseph is a fitting patron also for the poor. He had to work hard. He had, for the safety of the Divine Child and his Immaculate Spouse, to take long and weary journeys. He had the pain of seeing Jesus and Mary turned from the doors of Bethlehem, while those who had money were safely and comfortably lodged. Yet he never complained, never murmured. He worked, and bore all the inconveniences of poverty without a word. Is it so with you who are poor? Don't you sometimes envy the rich, get discontented with your position, feel rebellious against the will of God? If so, I point you to St. Joseph. He is your model. He is your example; strive to imitate him in all things. Are you humiliated? Bear it for Christ's sake. Are you punished by cold and hunger? Bear it for Christ's sake. Are you weary after your day's labor? Bear it, bear it all for Christ's sake, as good St. Joseph did.
St. Joseph, too, is a model for the married. He cared tenderly for the Virgin Mother and her Divine Child. He loved them, he guarded them. He is a model for the unmarried in his purity of life. He is a model for the priest, a model for the people, a model for the young, an example for the old. Oh! then how wisely our Holy Father acted in making him patron of the universal church. But not only is St. Joseph patron of the living, but also of the dying and the dead—of the dying, because he died in the arms of Jesus and Mary. Beautiful death! The Son of God at his side, the Mother of God to support his dying form! brethren! we who are here to-day living will one day be dying. Let us, then, pray St. Joseph that he will obtain for us the grace of a happy death—the grace to die, as he died, in the arms of Jesus and Mary. Then, no matter if flames devour us, or waters overwhelm us, or disease slays us, we shall be safe—safe, for the Son of God will hold us by the hand; safe, for the Mother of God will throw around an all-protecting mantle of defence.
And, lastly, St. Joseph is the patron of those who are dead and in purgatory. He waited long in limbo before he entered into the joy of heaven. Separated from all he loved on earth, and seeing the pearly gates of heaven, not yet opened by the bloodshed of Calvary, shut against him, oh! how great must his longing have been. Ah! then I am sure St. Joseph feels for and loves the holy souls in purgatory, who, like himself, have lost earth and not yet gained heaven.
Let us all, then, hasten to St. Joseph to-day. Let us pray for ourselves and others. Let us pray for the living and pray for the dead. Let us say: "O great patron of the whole church! look down from the loftiness of thy mountain to the lowliness of our valley; obtain for us to live like thee, to die like thee, and to reign with thee in everlasting bliss."
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LXVIII.
On this Sunday, my dear brethren, the church celebrates every year the feast of the Patronage of St. Joseph. You have often heard it read out from the altar, you heard it just now; and yet I am afraid most of you might as well not have heard it, for all the impression it made on you. If you thought anything about the notice you probably thought that it was only something to interest the pious people, to let them know when to say their prayers and go to Communion.
If you did you made a great mistake. St. Joseph is not a saint for pious people only, but for every Christian. That is true of all the saints, but specially so of St. Joseph. All the saints take an interest in all of us, however weak and imperfect, or even sinful, we may be; they all love us and care for us far more than our friends in this world. Still, they have perhaps a particular care for some, as we have, or should have, a particular devotion to some of them as our patrons.
But St. Joseph is everybody's patron. That is what holy church means by inviting us all to celebrate this feast of his Patronage, and by giving him the title, as she did only a few years ago, of patron of the universal church. He is the patron of the church in general and of each member of it in particular.
What is a patron? The word has rather gone out of common use. Well, it is a friend at court. A patron is one who has got influence and power to use for our advantage. If we want anything he is the one to get it for us. He is the man that you go to if you want to get an office or employment of any kind from the powers that be; and generally you will find it pretty hard to get a place, if you have not such a friend to go to.
Well, St. Joseph is such a friend for all of us in the court of heaven, and that is the one where we all want to have an interest; for there is where all matters are really arranged, whether regarding heaven or earth. If you want anything whatever St. Joseph is the one to go to, whether it be the most important thing of all—that is, the grace of final perseverance and salvation—or merely to pay your debts or save you from want. He will get you either one, though I do not know that he will get you the dollar, if you do not want the grace also.
But you will say, perhaps: "I do not need St. Joseph's help so much, for I have Our Blessed Lady to go to; is not she more powerful even than he is?" Well, I do not deny that, of course, nor that she is the best of all patrons. Neither does the church; for she celebrates, as you know, the feast of Our Lady's Patronage also. But I would not give much for your devotion to her, neither would she herself, unless you include St. Joseph in it. You might as well try to separate her from her Divine Son as St. Joseph from her.
Besides, you know the saints have what I may call their specialties. It is not, for instance, a superstition to ask the help of St. Anthony of Padua to find for us what we have lost. St. Joseph has several specialties; and one of them, and one which I know you will think quite important, is the help which he will give to us in temporal necessities when we are hard pressed for money, or things seem in any way to be going very much against us. Let me, then, suggest to you a very practical form of devotion to him. When anything goes wrong, instead of worrying about it and making it keep you from prayer, or even, perhaps, from Holy Mass, go to St. Joseph about it; ask him to get you what you want or to relieve your from your trouble. He will do it for you, unless it be bad for your soul.
Perhaps you think this is all fancy. Well, all I say is, just try, and you will see whether it is or not. You will find plenty of people who will tell you that what I say is true. But ask St. Joseph to help your soul, too, for he does not want to have you neglect that. See if you cannot make the patronage of St. Joseph, both temporally and spiritually, more of a reality to yourselves before another year has gone by.
Sermon LXIX.
Be ye subject therefore
to every human creature
for God's sake.
—1 St. Peter ii. 13.
If we stop to consider these words of the Epistle, my dear brethren, they must certainly have a strange sound to us in this age of the world, and especially in this country, which makes liberty its great boast. Many of us, I am afraid, in spite of their reverence for St. Peter, who gives this instruction, would be tempted to say that this doctrine of his is a very curious one. "Be subject to every human creature," indeed! Why, on the contrary, in this free and enlightend republic, we do not acknowledge subjection to any one; we hold that every man is equal; we are all sovereigns and make laws ourselves—not subjects, obedient to laws made by others. We observe the laws of the land, it is true, but that is because they are arrangements made by the majority for the good of the nation, state, or city, and because we must have some sort of law if we are to have any kind of order.
Well, this creed, which some of you, perhaps, have adopted, may sound well enough in itself, but unfortunately it does not seem to agree very well with St. Peter's inspired and infallible teaching. We must, if we are Catholics, acknowledge that instead of claiming that no one has a right to control us, we ought, as he says, to "be subject to every human creature." The only thing, then, is to find out just what he means by this.
Does St. Peter mean, then, that we must be willing to obey every human creature, every man, woman, or child that undertakes to command us? Yes, there is no doubt that such is his doctrine. We must be willing to obey every one; we must have a spirit of subjection and humility, not of superiority and pride. We must not think that we are too good or too wise to be commanded by any one, however bad or however foolish he may seem to be. We must have a desire to obey, not to command.
But does St. Peter mean that we actually must always obey every one, man, woman, or child, who chooses to command us? No, of course he does not mean that. We shall see what he does mean by bringing in the rest of the text.
"Be ye subject," he says, "to every human creature for God's sake." That is, be subject, as a matter of counsel, to every human creature, whenever we can suppose that creature to be speaking in the name of God; and as a matter of precept whenever we are sure that such is the case.
The first is a counsel, as I said, to be followed by those who would be perfect; to mortify our own will and submit to the direction of others when it is not evidently wrong or foolish. But the second is a strict duty to be practised if we would be saved: to submit to the commands of those who certainly do speak in God's name, when their commands are not plainly wrong. And who are those who speak in God's name? First, they are those whom he has appointed to rule his church—your Holy Father the Pope, the bishops, and your pastors. Remember, when they speak to you they speak in the name of God; do not murmur against them, but obey cheerfully for his sake, whether their commands come to you directly or through others whom they appoint to duties connected with the church.
Secondly, they are those whom he has appointed to rule the state or nation. No state or nation can be governed except in the name of God. That is what St. Paul says distinctly: "The powers that are," he says—and he was speaking of the heathen emperors—"are ordained of God. Therefore he that resisteth the power resisteth the ordinance of God. And they that resist purchase to themselves damnation." Be submissive, then, to the authorities and officers of every degree and kind in the nation, state, or city, when you meet them in the discharge of their duty. Though you may have chosen them yourselves, when they have been chosen they speak to you in God's name.
Lastly, those who rule in the family do so in the name of God. Children should remember that when they disobey their parents it is God's commands they are disobeying, and that disobedience in any grave matter is a mortal sin. And servants—for such really are those who live out in families—should also bear in mind their duty of obedience for God's sake and as to God. "Servants," says St. Peter in this Epistle, "be subject to your masters with all fear."
Yes, we should all fear to disobey lawful authority, because God has established it, not we ourselves. And we should also understand that only in obedience for God's sake is true liberty to be found.
Fourth Sunday after Easter.
Epistle.
St. James i. 17-21.
Dearly beloved:
Every best gift, and every perfect gift, is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change nor shadow of vicissitude. For of his own will hath he begotten us by the word of truth, that we might be some beginning of his creatures. You know, my dearest brethren, and let every man be swift to hear, but slow to speak, and slow to anger. For the anger of man worketh not the justice of God. Wherefore casting away all uncleanness, and abundance of malice, with meekness receive the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls.
Gospel.
St. John xvi. 5-14.
At that time: Jesus said to his disciples: I go to him that sent me, and none of you asketh me: Whither goest thou? But because I have spoken these things to you, sorrow hath filled your heart. But I tell you the truth: it is expedient to you that I go: for if I go not, the Paraclete will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he shall come, he will convince the world of sin, and of justice, and of judgment. Of sin indeed: because they have not believed in me. And of justice: because I go to the Father; and you shall see me no longer. And of judgment: because the prince of this world is already judged. I have yet many things to say to you: but you cannot bear them now. But when he, the Spirit of truth, shall come, he will teach you all truth. For he shall not speak of himself: but what things soever he shall hear, he shall speak, and the things that are to come he shall show you. He shall glorify me: because he shall receive of mine, and will declare it to you.
Sermon LXX.
I tell you the truth:
it is expedient for you that I go, …
But I will see you again,
and your heart shall rejoice;
and your joy no man shall take from you.
—St. John xvi. 7, 22.
We all know, dear brethren, what place our Lord was speaking about and to which he was soon to go. He was soon to leave his disciples and go to heaven. To that place we all hope to go also, that we may see him there, where, as he promises further on in the same discourse, our hearts shall rejoice, and where our joy no man shall take from us.
Now, there are three joys, it seems to me, which go to make up the happiness of heaven. First, we shall be consoled; second, we shall be satisfied; and, last and best of all, we shall see God.
We shall be consoled for all the evils we have suffered in this world. Oftentimes we have to fight pretty hard against the world, the flesh, and the devil, and we have received, perhaps, many a grievous wound in mind and heart. Then, again, we have endured much sickness, experienced many a bitter pang, undergone many a heavy trial. Once we are in heaven we shall be consoled for all these things there; our wounds will be healed, our sins forgiven, our hearts comforted. There we shall see the fruits of our penance, there we shall be solaced for all we have borne. He who leads his flock like a shepherd and carries the lambs in his bosom will come to us; he will fold us in his holy arms, and for evermore we shall be at peace.
Again, we shall be satisfied. Here we love certain places and their surroundings; we love creatures; we love all that is beautiful. But we are not satisfied, for all these things either leave us or we are forced to leave them. Now, in heaven exists all the beauty and loveliness of earth, only in a degree infinitely higher and fairer. There we shall have all things we can desire, and possess them without fear of change or loss. There we feel all the sweetness of prayer, all the delights of sensible devotion, all that the saints on earth felt when rapt in ecstasy, and more. Here there is always something to disappoint us, something that makes us restless and uncomfortable. There everything will exceed our highest hopes, our best desires—in a word, in heaven, and in heaven alone, we shall be perfectly satisfied.
Then, lastly, O joy of joys! we shall see God. We shall see him face to face. We shall see the beauty of God. We shall behold his wisdom and his everlasting glory. Yes, brethren, these poor eyes, that have shed so many tears, they shall see God. The poor eyes so weary from watch and vigil, so tired of looking up into heaven after Jesus and Mary, so sick of looking around on earth, so terrified from looking down into hell—these eyes shall see God. We shall gaze on all the blessed. We shall see Jesus, and Mary, and Joseph. Our eyes will look upon the golden pavement of the celestial streets, the gates of pearl, and the walls of amethyst. We shall see all the brightness and glory of heaven, for we shall see God.
Brethren, these joys are waiting for you. Every baptized member of Christ's mystical body has a right to a home in that land of peace! Ah! then be careful, I pray you, not to lose the way. See where the Standard-bearer leads! See the cross that he bears. Oh! you all want to go to heaven, I am sure you do. There is only one thing that can keep you out, and that is mortal sin. Stain your soul with mortal sin by grievous violation of any one of the commandments, and that is enough, should you die impenitent, to keep you for ever from being consoled, from enjoying eternal happiness, from seeing God. Ah! then, brethren, walk in the narrow road. Be faithful and loving children of the church, and then one day you will leave this poor, weary, sinful world and go to dwell for ever within the walls of the City of Peace.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LXXI.
Let every man be swift to hear,
but slow to speak.
—St. James i. 19.
I think that every one of you, my dear friends, will agree with me that this would be a much happier world than it is if this recommendation of St. James, in the Epistle of to-day, were carried out. For it is quite plain, I think, to every one of you that other people talk too much. If they would only say less, and listen more to what you have to say, things would go on much better. If they would only be swift to hear, but slow to speak, the world would get much more benefit from your wisdom and experience than is now the case.
But, unfortunately, this general conviction, in which, I think, we all share more or less, does not tend to produce the desired result, but rather the contrary; for it makes everybody more anxious to speak and to be listened to, and more unwilling to listen themselves. We all want everybody except ourselves to keep St. James's rule, but do not set them a good example. So our example does harm, while our conviction does no good; and things are worse than if we did not agree with St. James at all.
Now, would it not be a good idea if each one would try, if it were only for the sake of good example, to be less willing to talk and more willing to listen? And perhaps, after all, even we ourselves do sometimes say a word or two which is hardly worth saying, or perhaps a great deal better unsaid.
A story is told of a crazy man who, in some very lucid interval, asked a friend if he could tell the difference between himself and the people who were considered to be of sound mind. His friend, curious to see what he would say, said: "No; what is it?" "Well," said the crazy man, "it is that I say all that comes into my head, while you other people keep most of it to yourselves."
My friends, I am afraid the crazy man was about right, but he was too complimentary in his judgment of others. By his rule there would be a great many people in the asylum who are now at large. Really, it seems as if it never occurred to some persons who are supposed to be in their right minds whether their thoughts had better be given to the world or not. Out they must come, no matter whether wise or foolish, good or bad.
Yes, the madman, for once in his life, was pretty nearly right. One who talks without consideration, who says everything that comes into his or her head, is about as much a lunatic as those who are commonly called so; for such will have one day to give an account for all their foolish and inconsiderate words, long after they themselves have forgotten them. And to carelessly run up this account is a very crazy thing.
A little instrument has lately been invented, as you no doubt have heard, which will take down everything you say; it is called the phonograph. It makes little marks on a sheet of tinfoil, and by means of these it will repeat for you all you have said, though it may have quite passed out of your own mind. There are a great many uses to which this little instrument may be put; but I think that one of the best would be to make people more careful of what they say. They would think before they spoke, if a phonograph was around. Few people would like to have a record kept of their talk, all ready to be turned off at a moment's notice. It would sound rather silly, if no worse, when it was a day or two old.
Perhaps the phonograph will never be used in this way; but there is a record of all your words on something more durable than a sheet of tinfoil. This record is in the book from which you will be judged at the last day. Our Lord has told us that at that day we shall have not only to hear but to give an account for all the idle words spoken in our lives.
Should not, then, this thought restrain our tongues, and make us rather be swift to hear than to speak?—more especially as it is generally only by hearing that one can learn to speak well.
But what should you be swift to hear? Not the foolish or sinful talk of others no more careful than yourselves. Be willing, indeed, to listen to all with humility, believing them to be wiser or better than you are; but seek the company and conversation of those whom you know to be so. Nothing better can come out of your heads than what is put into them. You will be like those with whom you converse.
And therefore, above all, seek silence, that in it you may converse with Almighty God, and hear what he has to say to you. He is the one above all others whom you should be swift to hear. When you get in the way of listening to him you will be slow enough to speak. There is nothing so sure to prevent idle words as the habit of conversation with God.
Sermon LXXII.
Let every man be … slow to anger.
For the anger of man
worketh not the justice of God.
—St. James i. 19, 20.
What is the reason, my brethren, that people sin by anger so much? There is no temptation, it seems to me, that is more often given way to. Other ones, though frequently consented to, are also frequently resisted, even by those most subject to them; but with this it seems as if we were like gunpowder: touch the match to us, and off we go; if any one does us an injury or says an insulting word, we flare up at once and give back all we got, and more.
Afterward, perhaps, we are sorry; but that seems to do no good. Next time it is just the same. And so it goes on, till perhaps we begin to think that we really are like gunpowder; that God made us so that we cannot help going off when the match of provocation is applied.
But that is not true. It will never do to make God the cause of our sins. It is our own fault. But what is the fault? What is the matter that this temptation is not resisted like others?
I will tell you what I think the matter is. It is that the temptation to anger does not seem to be a temptation at the time. The angry word seems to you all right when you utter it. It is not so with other things—sins of impurity, for instance. You know they are wrong, and that you ought to resist them, even when they are on you; and sometimes you make up your mind to do so. But it is not so in this sin of anger.
And why does it not seem to be a temptation? Why do you think it no sin to say the angry word, to flare up when you are provoked? It is because your mind is confused at the time, so that you cannot tell what is sin and what is not.
That is the truth, if I am not mistaken. It is just the peculiar danger of this temptation that it disturbs and confuses the mind more than any other one. You cannot tell what really is right when you are under it; it is not safe to do anything at all. You are for the time like one who is drunk or crazy.
When a man has drank too much, if he have any sense left he will keep out of the way of other people until he is sobered. For he knows he is not fit to do or say anything when he is intoxicated, and that he will only make a fool of himself if he tries.
That is common sense and prudence; and many men, oven when drunk, have enough common sense and prudence left to follow this course. But very few have when under the passing drunkenness of anger. Most angry people do not know enough to hold their tongues. They ought to. They ought to have learned by experience. Well, then, this being the matter, the fault of angry people is plain enough. It is this: that they do not try to guard themselves against this temptation in the only way they can—that is, by remembering and acting on these words of St. James which I read to you from the Epistle of to-day: "The anger of man worketh not the justice of God." It always works injustice; that is, it always makes a mistake and does what is wrong. It has not sense enough to do what is right.
The only way to avoid the sin, then, is the one that St. James gives. Be slow to anger. Don't trust it, however sure you may be that it advises you rightly. It is a fool; don't listen to it. Wait till you get cool, till reason can have fair play.
I say this is the only way you can avoid this sin. I mean that nothing else will cure you of it unless you do this. Confession and Communion, prayer, penance, and other things, will help you; but this is indispensable. You know when you are under the influence of anger well enough. When you are, hold your tongue and hold your hand. You may have to do or say something afterwards, but very seldom there and then. God will not be likely to give you grace that is not needed; and you will not have the grace to do what is right when your duty is to do nothing, and wait till the temptation passes by. Remember that you are a fool when you are angry, if you do not want to act like one and be sorry for it afterwards.
Fifth Sunday after Easter.
Epistle.
St. James i. 22-27.
Dearly beloved:
Be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. For if a man be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he shall be compared to a man beholding his natural countenance in a glass. For he beheld himself, and went his way, and presently forgot what manner of man he was. But he that hath looked into the perfect law of liberty, and hath continued in it, not becoming a forgetful hearer, but a doer of the work: this man shall be blessed in his deed. And if any man think himself to be religious, not bridling his tongue, but deceiving his own heart, this man's religion is vain. Religion pure and unspotted with God and the Father, is this: to visit the fatherless and widows in their tribulation; and to keep one's self undefiled from this world.
Gospel.
St. John xvi. 23-30.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: Amen, amen I say to you, if you ask the Father anything in my name, he will give it you. Hitherto you have not asked anything in my name. Ask, and you shall receive: that your joy may be full. These things have I spoken to you in proverbs. The hour cometh when I will no more speak to you in proverbs, but will show you plainly of the Father. In that day you shall ask in my name: and I say not to you, that I will ask the Father for you. For the Father himself loveth you, because you have loved me, and have believed that I came forth from God. I came forth from the Father, and am come into the world; again I leave the world, and I go to the Father. His disciples say to him: Behold now thou speakest plainly, and speakest no proverb. Now we know that thou knowest all things, and that for thee it is not needful that any man ask thee. In this we believe that thou camest forth from God.
Sermon LXXIII.
Amen, amen I say to you,
if you ask the Father anything in my name,
he will give it you.
—St. John xvi. 23.
What a wonderful promise this is—that everything we ask of Almighty God, who is the Father of mercies, shall be granted to us, if we ask it in the name of his only-begotten Son, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ! Does our Lord really mean all he says? Do people get all they pray for? Does it not seem to us sometimes that we pray in vain—that God seems to shut his ears against our cry, and has no regard to our tears and supplications? Yes, it does often seem so, but it is not really so. God's ways are not always our ways to reach the end we desire. And our own experience will tell us that it is very seldom it would be the best for us if God took us at our word. The real reason why we do not obtain the answer we wish to many of our prayers is, first, because we do not ask, as we ought, in the name of Jesus Christ. What is it to ask in his name? It is to ask in the name of Him who came on earth, not to do his own will, but the will of his Divine Father. Oh! how seldom we pray for favors and blessings according to the will of God. Our blessed Lord, on the night before he was crucified, foreseeing his death, and bowed to the earth in his agony, ended his prayer with the words. "Not as I will, but as thou wilt." That is not our way. When we are in sorrow and trouble we think God should will as we will, and we are disappointed and discouraged because we do not get well of our sickness, or that calamity we feared comes, or poverty sticks to us, or the conversion of those we pray for is denied, or we do not obtain the employment we seek, or we have to give up hope of getting that farm we set our heart upon. Who is the judge, after all, about granting prayers? Who else but God, who not only has the power to grant or refuse them, as he chooses, but also has the perfect knowledge whether it would be best for us to receive a favorable answer or not? He who prays in the name of Jesus, prays with implicit trust in God's goodness and wisdom, and if he has not mistaken his own will for the will of God, will feel and should feel just as contented, no matter which way God answers his prayer.
The second reason why we do not always get what we pray for is because we are constantly asking for things which we dare not presume to ask in the name of Jesus Christ. We know in our heart of hearts that it is a petition he would not offer to his Divine Father for us. If we had to write that petition down we would neither begin nor end it with the words, "In the name of Jesus." It is our pride that is praying, our worldly ambition, our lusts and our selfish desires. We do not put the name of Jesus to our prayer, because the spirit of Jesus is not in it. Charity is wanting. We want to be happy, even if others are suffering. We want money, even if our brethren starve. We desire high places and the success of our undertakings, even if our neighbor and his interests go to the wall. Alas! it is self that prays the loudest and the oftenest and makes the greatest show.
Now, dear brethren, let us learn to bring all our prayers up to the right standard. No matter what we ask for, let it be always according to the will of God, and that alone. Then our prayer will surely be granted, for the will of God, no longer opposed and hindered by our will, accomplishes just what is best for us. If we do not get just what we think best, it is because God, in his divine generosity, chooses to give us something better, or takes a wiser way to do it than we knew of.
If I were to advise you how to always pray in the name of Jesus, I would say, Add always these words to every prayer you make: "So may God grant it, if my salvation be in it." God grants no prayer that does not have that end in view. His divine love for us constantly regards that, even if we forget it. Pray, then, with confidence and perseverance, but have a care to pray always with and for the will of God. Then in heaven we shall see, if not here, how not a single true prayer we ever made was left unanswered.
Sermon LXXIV.
Amen, amen I say to you,
if you ask the Father anything in my name,
He will give it you.
—St. John xvi. 23.
These are the words of Christ, taken from the Gospel of to-day; we cannot doubt them for a moment. They are the words of him who is the infallible Truth, who can neither deceive nor be deceived.
And yet how seldom do we act as if we really believed them! How seldom do you, my brethren, ask anything of the Father in the name of Christ with real confidence that you will receive what you ask for.
Many people say prayers, but few really pray. That is, many say over certain forms of prayer which they know by heart or read out of their prayer-books; many even feel bound to say some particular set of prayers every day, for the scapular which they wear, or for some other reason; but if you should ask them what they are praying for, what particular thing they wish to obtain from God when they say these prayers, few would be able to tell you, unless, indeed, they happened to be making a novena for some special object.
So, I say, it does not seem as if we Christians believed what our Lord tells us in these words. For surely, if we did, almost all our prayers would be petitions for some particular thing which we wanted, instead of mere devotional exercises. And why? Because we are always in want of something, and we must certainly believe that Almighty God has the power to give us what we want; should we not, then, be always praying for what we want, did we fully believe that he has the will to give it to us?
Is it, then, really true that God will give us all good things which we ask in prayer? Yes, it certainly is; that is exactly the meaning of these words of Christ. All good things, I say; for it is only good things which we can ask in his name. And if God would give us bad things which we should ask for, our Saviour's promise would be a curse, not a blessing as it really is.
No; God will not answer bad prayers—that is, prayers for what is bad. People sometimes make such prayers and expect him to answer them. They pray for vengeance on those who have injured them; they pray that others may suffer as much as they have made them suffer, and the like. Or they pray for something which seems to them good, but really is not so—that they may get rich, for instance, when riches will only be an occasion of sin to them. The prayer seems to them good, but it is not; perhaps even those prayers for vengeance may seem so. But God knows better, and will not, as he says in the Gospel of to-morrow, give us a stone when we ask for what seems to be bread. If anything, he will give better, instead of worse, than what we ask.
But really most things that Christians would think of praying for are not bad; but you do not pray for them, because you think that if they are good for you, you will get them, if you try, whether you pray or not. Now, that is the great mistake which our Lord wishes to correct. When he says, "If you ask the Father anything in my name, he will give it you," that means, also, that if you do not ask he will not, or at least not in such abundance.
Try, then, to bring this truth home to yourselves and make it practical: that if you want anything the way to get it is to ask it from God, not forgetting, of course, to work for it as well as to pray; for no one prays in earnest who does not do that. And the way not to get it is not to ask for it.
Pray, then, for what you want; and of course, before praying, find out what you do want. You want, for instance, to be kept from sin; but what sin? What is the one you are most inclined to? Examine your conscience and find out. Then your prayer will really mean something, especially if it be accompanied by good and strong resolutions against your besetting vices.
If you know what you want, and pray for it in Christ's name and in earnest, using all other means to get it, it shall, if it be good, be yours. That is the lesson of our Lord's words in the Gospel of to-day.
Sermon LXXV.
Amen, amen I say to you,
if you ask the Father anything in my name,
He will give it you.
St. John xvi. 23.
These words must be true, my brethren, for it is the Eternal Truth who has spoken them. And yet I dare say you cannot see how they are. You have often, perhaps, asked God for something which you wanted, and put our Lord's name to your prayers, and yet you have not got the thing on which your heart was set.
Well, let us see what is the matter; why it is that our experience seems to contradict our faith. It may be that, though the words seem plain, we do not understand them aright.
Perhaps we are under a mistake as to what is meant by asking in the name of Christ. Let us consider what is really the common and natural sense of asking for anything in somebody else's name. What should we ourselves mean by it?
Suppose I say to one of you: "If you ask Mr. So-and so for such a position or employment in my name you will get it," what do I mean? I mean that his regard for me is such that, if you have my name to support you, he will give it to you for my sake.
Well, now, this is, as it seems to me, what our Lord means by his promise. The sense of it is: "The Father loves me so much that if you have my name to support your prayers—that is, if I wish that you should have what you ask for—he will give it to you for my sake."
What it comes to, then, is this: If we ask the Father for anything really in the name of Christ—that is, if our Lord really endorses our prayer—we shall have it.
"Well," perhaps you may say, "it seems to me that does not amount to much. Will not God give us what our Lord approves of, any way, whether we ask it or not? I don't see what we gain by praying, if that is all."
There, my friends, you labor under a great mistake. The Father wants Christ's name, but he wants your prayer, too. Some things, it is true, you have got without praying; but there are many which you have not got, but which you might have had if you had added your own prayer to the name of our Lord.
I do not believe, for instance, that you ever asked in his name to be rich. And yet it is quite possible that you might have done so. If he knew that it would be good for yourself and others for you to have money, if he knew that you would make a good use of it, he would have put his name to your request. So you might, perhaps, have been much richer than you are; perhaps it was only the prayer for it on your part that was wanting. If it could have been made in the name of Christ—that is, with his approval—it would have been effectual.
It is very likely that he would, for good reasons, have refused to give his name to such a prayer. Still it would be worth while to try. It is always worth while to try praying for anything that is not in itself bad; we may be able to get Christ's name for it, who knows? And if we do not pray for what we want we will not be nearly so likely to get it.
There are some things, though, that we can be sure to have his name for, and which are besides much better than worldly goods. Those are the virtues with which our souls ought to be adorned—our true riches, the riches of the soul. Pray for these, then, with full confidence that he will endorse your prayer.
But when you pray for them work for them too. He will not give you either spiritual or temporal riches if you sit still and fold your hands, and wait for them to drop into your lap. A prayer which is not in earnest is no prayer at all; and no prayer is in earnest if the one who makes it is not trying to get what he wants in every way open to him.
Now, I hope you see that our Lord's promise is a real and true one; for by it we can get many, very many things which otherwise we never can have. And I hope you see that it is a most generous one; for by it we can have everything that is really good. Could you possibly ask anything more?
Sunday within the Octave of the Ascension.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter iv. 7-11.
Dearly beloved:
Be prudent, and watch in prayers. But before all things have a mutual charity among yourselves: for charity covereth a multitude of sins. Using hospitality one towards another without murmuring. As every man hath received grace, ministering the same one to another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. If any man speak, let him speak as the words of God. If any man minister, let it be as from the power which God administereth: that in all things God may be honored through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Gospel.
St. John xv. 26-xvi. 4.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: When the Paraclete shall come whom I will send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceedeth from the Father, he shall give testimony of me. And you shall give testimony, because you are with me from the beginning. These things have I spoken to you, that you may not be scandalized. They will put you out of the synagogues: yea, the hour cometh that whosoever killeth you, will think that he doeth a service to God. And these things will they do to you, because they have not known the Father, nor me. But these things I have told you, that when the hour of them shall come, you may remember that I told you.
Sermon LXXVI.
Charity covereth a multitude of sins.
—1 St. Peter iv. 8.
Those words are from the Epistle appointed for this Sunday, and St. Peter, when he wrote them, meant that a man who gets his heart full of charity is sure to be truly penitent for his sins, no matter how many they may have been, and will thus win the mercy of God and receive full pardon for them. St. Peter's words are quite a popular saying. You will hear all sorts of people quote them with evident satisfaction and belief in their truth. But do they all mean just what I have said he meant? I am not so sure that they do. I fear that some think that giving a few dollars to the poor (which they call charity) is a convenient way of throwing a cloak over a multitude of sins—covering them up, as it were—and hiding them rather than getting rid of them. I know the Scripture says also that "almsgiving redeems the soul from death," and tells the sinner to "redeem his sins with alms and his iniquities with works of mercy to the poor." But the Catholic doctrine is that charity must prompt the almsgiving in order to work the miracle of pardon. It is not the money or the clothing, the food or the fire, given to those who need, which compounds for sins and buys pardon at a cheap rate; but the virtue of divine charity, a Christ-like love of God and of our neighbors, that wipes out the judgment of condemnation and cleanses the guilty stains from the soul. The giving of alms to the suffering poor is certainly one of the first things that a sinner who is trying to get back, or has already got back, the love of God will set himself to do; and it is the very sacrifice of his goods for God's sake and for God's love that proves he wants to have done with his sins, and that he is anxious to do penance for them. It would be the greatest folly in the world for a man to give alms for his sins, if he was not trying to do so for the love of God. It is all very well and very benevolent to help a poor wretch with food and raiment because we do not like to see a fellow human being suffer. But thieves, and adulterers, and drunkards, and Easter-duty breakers, and all sorts of sinners who have no intention whatever of stopping their sinful career will do that; and when they say, "Charity covereth a multitude of sins," they are very well content to have their benevolence accounted as a set-off to their sins. But mere benevolence is not charity, and to think it is would be a very great mistake. St. Paul says that a man may distribute all his goods to feed the poor, and yet not have charity. So then, dear brethren, if you want your almsgiving to be profitable to your own soul as well as helpful to your suffering neighbor, stop your sins and begin to be, first of all, a little generous with God. Give him what he is constantly knocking at the door and begging for—your heart, your love. Then you will have the charity that covereth a multitude of sins, even before you give the poor a cent. Get into the love of God, and then the love of your neighbor for God's sake will follow of itself. You will then feed and clothe and comfort the poor, not only because you pity them, but because you love them. Then will God love you and forgive you your sins.
Now that we have a just idea of charity, you see how it is to be exercised in a great many more ways than in almsgiving. You will easily forgive your neighbor his offences against you; you will hold no spite or revenge in your heart. If he has disgraced himself you will not go and tell all your acquaintances of it, but will jealously hide it and excuse it, and help him out of his trouble. Thus the charity you have will not only cover a multitude of your own sins, but a multitude of your neighbor's sins as well. When you forgive in charity you will forgive out and out, as God does, and hold no grudge afterwards. O my dear Christians! try to learn this lesson and lay it to heart. Strive after this divine love; pray for it; ask Our Blessed Lady and all the saints to help you obtain it; your salvation depends on it. I say it again: your salvation depends on it. "Charity covereth a multitude of sins." Yes; but nothing else will cover even one sin. Without the love of God there is no contrition; without contrition there is no absolution; without absolution you are lost! Think well on this.
Sermon LXXVII.
Before all things,
have a mutual charity among yourselves;
for charity covereth a multitude of sins.
—1 St. Peter iv. 8.
What does St. Peter mean, my brethren, by these words? How does charity cover a multitude of sins?
Well, it covers our own sins, of course—that is, it helps us to obtain their forgiveness, and it atones for them when they have been forgiven. There is no better way to obtain mercy from God than to show it to others.
But then all the virtuous acts which we can do have the same effect to some extent; so I think that the sins which St. Peter speaks of are not our own merely, but also those of others. And it is a special effect of charity to cover the sins of others; it seems, then, that it is charity as shown in this way that the apostle here urges on us.
It is not a very common kind of charity, either, this of covering other people's sins. Some, indeed, seem to think that the sins of their neighbors ought not to be covered. They do not appear to understand that every one has a real right that his sins should remain unknown; that it is not only uncharitable but unjust to mention them to those who do not know them already. No; as soon as they hear a piece of news to any one's disadvantage they are not easy till they have told it to their whole circle of acquaintance; the idea of covering it up, of not letting it go any farther, of saving their neighbor's character never occurs to them. If they feel pretty sure that it is true, that is enough to remove all scruple about telling it.
But this telling about people's sins is a sin, as I have said, not only against charity but against justice. Charity goes a good deal farther than that. It covers sins not only from other people's eyes, but even from our own.
That is what St. Paul says about it. He says: "Charity thinketh no evil"—that is to say, it does not see sin in other people; it puts the best construction on their actions. How rare it is to find any one who thoroughly practises charity of this kind!
For instance, somebody tells something about you which you know to be false; do you put the best construction on this? No, you put the very worst you can. You say to yourself: "He, or she, did that out of malice. He knew very well that what he said was not true, and said it to slander me, out of pure spite." You never stop to think that he maybe laboring under a false impression—may really think that what he says is true, and that he is, moreover, justified in saying it. You never make any allowance for the passion he may be under which has blinded his judgment; you never think of the provocations he may have had, or may at least fancy that he has had. The utmost you do is to say: "Well, I do not wish him any evil; I forgive him the injury he has done me." And if you have said that, which ought to be a matter of course, you look upon yourself as a great Christian hero.
Try to learn, then, that charity means more than forgiving sins. It means excusing them—finding out, if possible, some reason which may show that what seems to be a sin was not really so. You are ready enough to excuse your own sins; to say, "I could not help it," or "I did not mean any harm." Why don't you say the same thing for somebody else? Throw the veil of charity over the faults of others—if they have sinned it will do you no good to know it—and take it off from your own, which you ought to know a great deal better than you do. By the charity of covering other people's sins from your own eyes you will cover your own from the eyes of God.
Sermon LXXVIII.
Before all things,
have a mutual charity among yourselves;
for charity covereth a multitude of sins.
—1 St. Peter iv. 8.
Nothing is more frequently or more forcibly commanded by our Lord and his apostles than fraternal charity. Mind well the text: "Before all things", says St. Peter, "have a mutual charity among yourselves." In fact, if you give a little attention to your daily thoughts, words, and deeds, you will find that the burden of your daily sins is uncharitableness in one form or another. It was want of fraternal charity that brought about murder on the very morning of this world's life. Hatred came between the first two brothers of our race, and the result was the murder of the innocent Abel. A preacher who lived some three hundred years ago—they had a quaint way of telling plain truths in those days—said in a sermon, and was willing to wager, that the first thing that Adam and Eve did after eating the apple was to quarrel, to have a downright good dispute, which was only continuing, in another way, the first sin. Samson slew a thousand Philistines "with a jawbone, even the jawbone of an ass." How many reputations are destroyed in a like manner!—for a wise man knows how to hold his tongue. What a heaven on earth our homes and our social circles would be, if a constant mutual charity was kept up between husband and wife, brothers and sisters, and acquaintances! "With charity," said St. Gregory, "man is to man a god; without charity man is to man a wild beast."
It may seem rather bold of St. Peter to say that charity should be had "before all things"; but he gives a good reason for his assertion, and a very consoling one it is for us: "for charity covereth a multitude of sins." We all have, God knows, a multitude of sins on our souls; anything that will take them away, rid us of them, cover them up from God's sight, is of the greatest possible benefit to us. Now, this is just what charity does. How? It is said that love is blind; charity blinds us to the defects and sins of our neighbor—in fact, covers them up either by excusing, or by bearing patiently, or by forgiving the sins and offences of others. "Charity," says St. Paul, "is patient, is kind, charity envieth not, thinketh no evil, rejoiceth not in iniquity, beareth all things, endureth all things." But in thus covering the sins of others how does charity cover our own? Remember your "Our Father": "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us." Here is a contract between you and God; you stake the forgiveness from God of your sins on your forgiveness of the sins of others. If, therefore, from a motive of charity you cover the sins of others, God will cover your sins; they will stand no more before him and against you.
"Well, well, dear father," it is often said to us, "forgive, yes; but I will never forget." My dear friend, you remind me of the beggar who, seeing a gentleman put his hand in his pocket, fervently exclaimed, "May the blessing of God follow you," and then, seeing that it was the smallest of coins that was handed to him, added no less fervently, "and never overtake you!" To forgive really is to forget. We are to forgive as God forgives; that is the bargain, is it not? Now, God forgets our sins; they are for ever wiped out of his memory. Remembrances of offences are temptations that you must hunt down as you would impure thoughts; you must try to forget, else you do not forgive. Next Sunday we celebrate the descent of the Holy Ghost. The Holy Ghost is the spirit of love, the outcome of the mutual charity of the Father and the Son. Pray to him that he may put in your hearts the true virtue of Christian charity.
Feast of Pentecost, or Whit-Sunday.
Epistle.
Acts ii. 1-11.
When the days of the Pentecost were accomplished, they were all together in the same place: and suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a mighty wind coming, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. And there appeared to them cloven tongues as it were of fire, and it sat upon every one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they began to speak with divers tongues, according as the Holy Ghost gave them to speak. Now there were dwelling at Jerusalem, Jews, devout men out of every nation under heaven. And when this voice was made, the multitude came together, and was confounded in mind, because that every one heard them speak in his own tongue. And they were all amazed and wondered, saying: Behold, are not all these who speak, Galileans? And how have we every one heard our own tongue wherein we were born? Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphilia, Egypt and the parts of Libya about Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews also, and proselytes, Cretes and Arabians: we have heard them speak in our own tongues the wonderful works of God.
Gospel.
St. John xiv. 23-31.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: If any one love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and make our abode with him. He that loveth me not, keepeth not my words. And the word which you have heard is not mine, but the Father's who sent me. These things have I spoken to you, remaining with you. But the Paraclete, the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring all things to your mind, whatsoever I shall have said to you. Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you: not as the world giveth do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid. You have heard that I have said to you: I go away, and I come again to you. If you loved me, you would indeed be glad, because I go to the Father: for the Father is greater than I. And now I have told you before it come to pass; that when it shall come to pass, you may believe. Now I will not speak many things with you. For the prince of this world cometh, and in me he hath not anything. But that the world may know that I love the Father: and as the Father hath given me commandment, so I do.
Sermon LXXIX.
The Holy Ghost,
whom the Father will send in my name,
he will teach you all things.
—St. John xiv. 26.
Today, my dear friends, as you know, we celebrate the descent of the Holy Ghost upon the apostles. It was, of all the wonderful works that God has wrought for the salvation of men, in one way the most extraordinary and miraculous; for it was an immediate and evident change, not in the material world, but in the spiritual—that is, in the souls of those upon whom the Holy Spirit thus came. In a moment they became entirely different men from what they had been before.
What was this change which was worked in the souls of the apostles? It was, as we commonly regard it, an infusion of supernatural courage and strength. Before they had been hiding themselves, hardly daring to appear in public, still less to preach the Gospel, or even to profess themselves Christians; but now they came forth boldly, ready not only to be known as followers of Christ, but also to suffer all things for his sake.
There was, however, another change worked in them in that moment; and it is the one which our Lord predicted in the words which I have taken from the Gospel of this day. "The Holy Ghost," said he, "will teach you all things."
What was the meaning of this promise, and what was its fulfilment? Did our Lord mean that the Holy Ghost would teach the apostles all the truths of natural science; that they should become great chemists, geographers, or mechanics; that they should know how to construct steam-engines or telegraphic cables? By no means. These things are in themselves of little importance, and would have had no direct bearing on the work to which St. Peter and his companions were called. No; the things which the Holy Ghost was to teach them, and did teach them on the day of Pentecost, were spiritual things—those things which concerned the salvation of their own souls, and of the other souls which were committed to their charge. In an instant they became learned in the mysteries of the kingdom not of nature but of grace; they became in a moment great saints and doctors of theology. They knew at once what others, superior to them in natural gifts, have not been able to acquire after long years of study and prayer. They were miraculously prepared to do the work of infallible founders and teachers of the Church of God.
It was a wonderful promise of Christ to them, and wonderful was its fulfilment. But are we merely to admire it in them, or have we too a share in it?
We have a share in it. Yes, though the promise in its fulness was only made to them, all of us, even the humblest, can claim it for ourselves. The Holy Ghost will teach us also all spiritual things, if we will only listen to his voice—not suddenly or miraculously as to them, but none the less surely. He has already taught to millions of the faithful children of the church, though they were ignorant of that natural science which the world values, what the most learned and able men have died without knowing.
He will teach us all things, but we must listen to his voice. Where, then, is that voice to be heard?
First, it is to be heard in the voice of the church itself, which speaks in his name and by his power. You can hear it in the words of your Holy Father the Pope, the successor of the apostles, and in those of your bishop and of your pastors. You can also hear it in good books, published with the authority and approval of the church. Lastly, you can hear it in your own souls. The Holy Ghost is always speaking there, but it is with a gentle and low voice; and if you would hear it pride and passion must be still. It is in silence and in prayer that you will learn those things which he has to teach you. Listen, then, to the voice of God, of the spirit of wisdom, of understanding, of counsel, and of knowledge, which you have received in Confirmation, and which dwells in your souls; and our Divine Lord's promise shall certainly be fulfilled in you.
Sermon LXXX.
If any one love me
he will keep my word.
—St. John xiv. 23.
There are some people who have a great deal of what they call devotion, and there are others who seem to have very little or none at all. The hearts of the first are filled, one would think, with the love of God. They are never so happy as when at church, assisting at Mass or some other service, or on their knees before their altar at home. They say as many prayers every day as would make up the office which a priest is bound to recite, or perhaps even more. Some other people, on the contrary, find it a hard matter to say any prayers. Their minds wander, they cannot tell why. They do not care much about coming to church; they come, though, for all that. But it is all uphill work with them; and they think they are in a very bad way, and are tempted to envy those who seem to be getting along so much better.
But is it certain that those whom they are tempted to envy are, in reality, in so much better a state? No, I do not think it is. Of course it is a good sign for any one to like to pray. It is much better to have a taste for that than for the pleasures of the world. But it does not certainly follow that one who likes to pray really loves God very much. He may like it because he is paid for it; that is, because he gets rewarded for it in a way that others do not. He may like it in the same way that a child would like the company of any one who would give him candy. If the supply of candy stops his affection is gone. If, instead of getting candy, he is asked to go on an errand, his feeling will be very different.
So one may like to pray because he or she has in prayer a pleasure which would be attractive to any one, even to the greatest sinners. The pleasure may come merely from one's having a lively imagination, and getting what seems to be a vision of heaven when on one's knees or in church. But ask such a person to do something for the one who gives him this pleasure—that is, God—and there will perhaps be a great change. If our Lord, instead of giving candy, proposes him an errand—if he asks a girl, for instance, instead of going to Mass or to Communion, to stay at home and help her mother—the shoe, it may be, will begin to pinch immediately.
The others, who have little of what is called devotion, may stand this trial much better. They may be willing not only to give up prayer, which they are not so fortunate as to like, but other things which they really do, if it is the will of God. They pray because it is God's will, and because they know it will bring them nearer to him, and they will do anything else that he wishes them to do for the same reason.
Now, do not misunderstand me. I do not mean that all those who do not like to pray are better than those who do; far from it. But I do mean that real devotion which is the same as a true love of God, is what our Lord sets before us in the words of to-day's Gospel which I have read. "If any one love me," he says, "he will keep my word"; that is, "he will do what I want him to." "You are my friends," he says in another place, "if you do the things that I command you." That is true devotion, to have our will the same as God's will; to be willing to sacrifice everything for him, even the pleasure we may find in his society.
So I mean that a person who has none of what is called devotion, but who does what he understands to be God's will, and avoids what is contrary to it, is much more acceptable in his sight than one who has what is called devotion, and gives up God's will to satisfy it. Thus, for instance, any one of you, my brethren, who has not been to Holy Communion since Lent began, and who really wants to please God, will go this week, before the time of the Easter-duty runs out, and not wait for Corpus Christi, which comes in the next week. That is just now a special good example; try and remember it. If any one wants to commit a mortal sin, let him put off his Easter-duty till Corpus Christi and the Forty Hours, for devotion's sake.
Real devotion is to remember God's words and obey them at any cost. This is the true way, as he also says in to-day's Gospel, to induce him and his Father to really come to us and make their abode with us; and to have the Holy Ghost, who proceeds from them, enter into our hearts, though we may not feel his presence, as the apostles did on the first Pentecost day.
Sermon LXXXI.
Let not your heart be troubled,
nor let it be afraid.
—St. John xiv. 27.
Our Lord spoke these words to his apostles before his Passion, but they were not to have effect till after his ascension into heaven. It was not his will that they should have the courage and confidence to which he here exhorts them till that time which we celebrate to-day, when the Holy Ghost came upon them and fitted them for the great work to which they were appointed. Even while our Lord was with them after his resurrection, and still more after he had ascended and left them to themselves, they were anxious and fearful, not daring to call themselves his disciples or to risk anything for his sake. But when they received the Holy Ghost all this was changed. They confessed Christ openly; all their doubts and fears were gone; and "they rejoiced," as we read in the Acts, "that they were accounted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus. And they ceased not every day, in the temple and from house to house, to teach and preach Christ Jesus."
Now, we ought to imitate their conduct after Pentecost, and not that before. For we have not the excuse that they had before that time. We have received the Holy Ghost, as they did. He has not come on us visibly in fiery tongues, but he has come just as really and truly in the sacrament of confirmation which we have received. There is no reason for us to be troubled or afraid; when the Holy Ghost came into our hearts he brought courage and confidence with him; he brought them to each one of us, as he did to the holy apostles.
And he gave this courage and confidence to each of us for the same reason as to them, because we have all to be apostles in our own way and degree. We have not all got to preach Christ publicly, as they did, but we have all got to speak a word for him when the proper occasion comes. We have not all got to die for Christ, as they did, but we have got to suffer something for the sake of our faith in him, and that quite often, too, it may be. We have a real duty in this matter; we shall be rewarded if we fulfil it, and punished if we do not. It was not for his apostles only but for each one of us that those words of his were meant: "Every one that shall confess me before men, I will also confess him before my Father who is in heaven; but he that shall deny me before men. I will also deny him before my Father who is in heaven."
And yet how often must it be acknowledged, to our shame and disgrace, that Christians do deny their Lord and Master before men! I do not mean that they deny their faith, and say they are not Catholics when they are asked; this, thank God! though it does happen, is not so very common. But is it not common enough to find young Catholic men and women with whom one might associate for years and never suspect them to be Catholics, and, in fact, be quite sure that they were not?—and this not merely because they do not parade their religion, but because they do not defend it when it is attacked; because they agree with, and even express, all sorts of infidel, heretical, false, and so-called liberal opinions, that they may not give offence; or even, perhaps, without any sort of need, but only to win favor for themselves by falling in with the fashion of those with whom they associate.
And how often, again, do Christians, even if they do stand up for their faith, cast contempt on it in the eyes of the world by acting and talking just as if it had no power over their lives, and was never meant to have any! They curse, and swear, and talk immodestly, just as those do who do not profess to believe in God and Christ, and even, perhaps worse. Or if they do not go so far as this, they laugh at profanity and impurity, and make companions of those who are addicted to these vices; and this they do, not because they really wish to do or to sanction such things, but merely from a miserable weakness that prevents them from facing a little contempt and unpopularity. What would they do, if called on to shed their blood for Christ, who cannot bear even to be laughed at a little for being practical Catholics? They are like cowardly soldiers who run away from a battle at the first smoke from the enemy's guns.
You know what a shame it is for a soldier to be a coward. And now try to remember, dear Christians, especially on this holy day, that a Christian has got to be a soldier, and that if he is a coward he disgraces himself and his cause. The Holy Ghost is given to us in confirmation that we may not be weak and cowardly, but strong and perfect Christians, and true soldiers of Jesus Christ. If you have not yet received him in this way make haste to do so; if you have, make use of the graces which he has given you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid; there is nothing to be afraid of, for God is on your side. Do not fear but rather count it a joy to suffer a little persecution for his name.
Trinity Sunday.
Epistle.
Romans xi. 33-36.
O the depth of the riches, of the wisdom, and of the knowledge of God! How incomprehensible are his judgments, and how unsearchable his ways! For who hath known the mind of the Lord? Or who hath been his counsellor? Or who hath first given to him, and recompense shall be made to him? For of him, and by him, and in him, are all things. To him be glory for ever. Amen.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxviii. 18-20.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: All power is given to me in heaven and on earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations: baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you; and behold I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world.
Last Gospel.
St. Luke vi. 36-42.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: Be ye merciful, as your Father also is merciful. Judge not, and you shall not be judged. Condemn not, and you shall not be condemned. Forgive, and you shall be forgiven. Give, and it shall be given to you: good measure and pressed down, and shaken together and running over, shall they give into your bosom. For with the same measure that you shall measure it shall be measured to you again. And he spoke also to them a similitude: Can the blind lead the blind? do they not both fall into the ditch? The disciple is not above his master; but every one shall be perfect, if he be as his master. And why seest thou the mote in thy brother's eye, but the beam that is in thy own eye thou considerest not? or how canst thou say to thy brother, Brother, let me pull the mote out of thy eye, when thou thyself seest not the beam in thy own eye? Thou hypocrite, cast first the beam out of thy own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to take out the mote from thy brother's eye.
Sermon LXXXII.
Teach all nations:
baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
—St. Matthew xxviii. 19.
The mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity is one of those wonderful truths of our holy faith which form the foundation of the Christian religion. He who does not believe in the Trinity cannot call himself a Christian; neither can any one be a Christian unless he is baptized in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. We are taught to make acts of profession of this mystery oftener than of any other. We do so every time we make the sign of the cross; and there are very few Catholics who do not make that sign more than once every day. Every one should know what is meant by the Trinity.
There is but one God, who is the infinite, eternal, almighty, all-wise, all-good, and all-just Being who created all things that exist.
But God, who is one in his Divine Being, is a Trinity in person. That is, he is three persons. These persons are named Father, Son, Holy Ghost. God is, then, Father, and he is Son, and he is Holy Ghost. These three persons are the same God. So, if there were three men praying to God, one praying to the Father, a second to the Son, and the third to the Holy Ghost, they would all be praying to the same God. How there can be more than one person in one being is a mystery to us, because we have no knowledge of any other being but God who has more than one person. But now this truth is revealed to us, we know, by our faith, which is divine knowledge, that there are three persons in God, and are sure also that God must, as a Divine Being, have three persons, because God cannot be other than he is. Let us help our minds to understand this by a comparison. Suppose a tower built in such a shape that it has three sides. Now, there are three distinct sides and only one tower; and whichever side we look at we see a distinct side which is not either of the other two sides, but we always can say, I see the tower. So, no matter which person of God we regard, it is always the same God.
Our holy faith teaches us that God the Father is the Divine Person who created all things, as we say in the Creed: "I believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth." It furthermore teaches us that God the Son is the Divine Person who redeemed us by becoming man and dying on the cross, as the words of the Creed declare; and again it teaches us that God the Holy Ghost is the Divine Person who sanctifies us and is the source and giver of all grace. These truths are revealed to us, and we believe them, as we do all mysteries, for the reason we give when we make an act of faith: "O my God! I believe all things taught by the holy Catholic Church, because thou, who canst neither deceive nor be deceived, hast revealed them to her."
The Catholic Church is the voice of God to us, and when we hear her we hear God. She lives, and speaks, and acts by the Holy Ghost through Jesus Christ, our Saviour, her Divine Head. The reason some very wise people, very learned in different kinds of science, do not believe in the Trinity and other mysteries of religion as we do is because they do not hear the voice of God in the Catholic Church. It is not by science that we know the Trinity to be true, but by divine faith.
This divine faith is a gift of God, which we are bound to nourish in our souls with profound gratitude and humility, for it is a sad truth that this faith may be lost.
Catholics lose their faith by their sins, and chiefly by the sin of pride. All heretics and apostates show this in their conduct and in their words. They adhere to their own opinions and refuse to submit to the divine teaching of the church. O dear brethren! let us fear this sin of pride more than all other sin—a temptation, too, that is very apt to come up when we are ridiculed by unbelievers for our faith. Then is the time to confess the truth boldly, for if we deny our Lord before men he will deny us before the face of his Father in heaven.
Let us keep our faith by purity of life and humility of heart; for, as says the Imitation of Christ: "What doth it avail thee to discourse profoundly of the Trinity, if thou be wanting in humility, and consequently displeasing to the Trinity? If thou didst know the whole Bible by heart, and the sayings of all the philosophers, what would it profit thee without the love of God and his grace?"
Sermon LXXXIII.
In the name of the Father,
and of the Son,
and of the Holy Ghost.
—St. Matthew xxviii. 19.
To-day, my dear brethren, the church celebrates the greatest of all the mysteries of our religion: the mystery of the Holy Trinity; of the one God in three Divine Persons—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
We all believe it; we must believe it if we would be saved. But no one of us can perfectly understand it. St. Patrick, you know, is said to have illustrated it to his converts by showing them the shamrock with its three leaves on one stem; but, of course, he never pretended that this was a perfect explanation of it. No perfect explanation of it can be given to us.
And why not? Is it because it really has no explanation? No, but because we are not able to understand the one which might be given. Explain the solar system to a child of five years: will he understand you? It is something the same with us and this greater mystery of God.
Some people, especially at the present day, who consider themselves very wise, say to themselves and to others: "Oh! this doctrine of the Trinity cannot be true." Ask them why not, and they will say: "Because we cannot understand it; it seems to us to be nonsense."
Well, what does their argument amount to? Just to this: "If the doctrine were true we should understand it; but we don't understand it, therefore it is not true."
"If it were true," they say, "we should understand it." And why? "Why, of course, because we are so wise that we can understand everything. It is well enough for stupid people, like those benighted Romanists, to believe what they don't understand, but such a proceeding would be quite below our dignity and intelligence. It is quite absurd to suppose that there is any mystery so deep that we cannot see to the bottom of it."
Now, I do not want to accuse these worthy people of any one of the seven capital sins; they are, no doubt, as good as they are wise. But there is something in what they say that looks just a little bit like one of those sins; like the first and most deadly of them all: that is, the sin of pride. And there is not much doubt that pride has in some form or other had something to do with all heresies; so I am afraid that those who deny the Holy Trinity are not quite free from it.
You think so, my brethren, I have no doubt. But, after all, are you not perhaps guilty of a little of the same sin yourselves? You believe in the Holy Trinity, it is true, but are there not some other things which you do not fully believe, though you ought to, and for very much the same reason?
God has given you the gift of faith; and you are willing to believe what you know to be of faith, even if it be beyond your reason, especially if it be something, like the Holy Trinity, beyond the reason of any one else. But are you not sometimes rather unwilling to believe other matters of religion, for which there is good authority, just because you, with your present lights, do not quite see through them? That is just the trouble with the heretics of whom I have spoken; is it not so with you, too, perhaps?
Do you not say even about some of these matters: "Oh! I do not think the same about that as the priests do; they are welcome to their opinion but I claim the right to mine"? It may be some question of morals; then you say: "The priest say so-and-so is not right; but I don't see any harm in it. I have got a conscience of my own."
Did it ever occur to you that as God knows more, and has told more to his church about himself than you could have found out, so he may have enlightened it rather more about some other matters in its own sphere than he has enlightened you, even though they are not of faith? And even setting that aside, is it not possible that those who have studied a subject know more about it than those who have not?
I think there is only one answer to these questions. Try, then, to have the same humility which you have about the doctrine of the Holy Trinity in other things too. You believe that the officers of a ship know a little more about her position and proper course than you do; make the same presumption in favor of those who are in charge of the bark of St. Peter. It is only reasonable to think so; only showing a little of the same common sense which you show in other things.
Sermon LXXXIV.
Why seest thou the mote in thy brother's eye,
but the beam that is in thy own eye
thou considerest not?
—St. Luke vi. 41.
These words, my dear brethren, are taken from the Gospel of the first Sunday after Pentecost, which is always read at the end of Mass on this day. Of all those which our Divine Lord spoke during his ministry on earth, there are none more practical, none which have a more immediate bearing on our daily lives.
There is nothing which shows the perversity of our fallen nature more clearly than the common habit, in which even many persons who are pious in their way continually indulge, of criticising and commenting on the actions and character of others.
Some people, indeed, seem to think that there is no harm in talking about the character and conduct of their neighbors, as long as they do not say anything which is not true. This is a great mistake; one hardly needs to stop and reflect for a moment to see that it is a grievous injustice to speak of a sin which another person has actually committed, if it be not known, or at least certain soon to be known in some other way, by the one to whom we speak. So there are many who have sense enough not to make this mistake and who do hold their tongues about the secret sins of others. But there are comparatively few who seem to realize that it is against charity, though not against justice, to speak even of well-known and evident faults of one's neighbors, when there is no good object to be gained by so doing; and, in fact, even to think of them and turn them over in one's mind, for which there can never be any good object.
It is to such as these—and there are hosts of them—that our Lord's words are addressed. He does not himself answer the question which he asks in the text; but there is not much difficulty in our answering it ourselves.
"Why," then, "seest thou the mote in thy brother's eye, but the beam in thy own eye thou considerest not?" The two always go together. You will always find that just in proportion to a person's watchfulness about others' faults is his carelessness about his own. Why, I say, do you do so? Let us try to find out.
Are you so sensitive about your neighbor's faults because they offend God? No, I do not believe that is the reason. If it were you would be a great deal more troubled about your own than you are. If you really cared for God's honor in the matter you would go to work on your own sins, which you really can amend, and not on those of your neighbors, which you only carp at but do not even try to correct. Do not pretend, then, that your habit of finding fault with others comes from a desire that God may be better served. Such a pretence would be only hypocrisy. It is especially to such pretenders that our Saviour says: "Hypocrite, cast first the beam out of thy own eye; and then shalt thou see clearly to take out the mote from thy brother's eye."
Are you so sensitive about your neighbor's faults, then, because they offend yourself? No, I do not think that can be the reason either—or, at least, not the whole reason; for you are nearly as apt to speak of them when they do not concern you at all. You even take trouble to find out about those which do not come under your own observation. I know that we all have a weakness for noticing unpleasant things when they occur, and passing over those which are agreeable as a matter of course; we complain of the weather when it is bad, and give no thanks when it is fine; we grumble when we have a bad dinner, and say nothing about a good one. But this does not explain the matter entirely, for most of the faults which you notice in others do not hurt you in any way.
No; the fact is, it is simply a vice in yourselves which makes your neighbor's faults so glaring in your eyes. And that vice is the great vice of pride. You are trying to exalt yourselves, at least in your own mind, above others, and the easiest way to do it is to try to push them down. This is at the bottom of all this uncharitableness which is the staple of so many people's thoughts and conversation.
There is, therefore, only one real remedy for it, only one which strikes at the root of the whole thing: that is to cultivate the virtue which is the opposite of pride, the great virtue of humility.
I said just now that as a person is watchful about his neighbor's faults, so is he careless about his own. Well, the rule works both ways. If you will be careful about your own you will not notice those of other people. For you will acquire this virtue of humility. You will appear so bad in your own sight that others will appear good in comparison. And then, when you have cast out this beam of pride from the eye of your own soul, you will indeed be fit to correct others, and not till then.
Second Sunday after Pentecost.
and Sunday within the Octave of Corpus Christi.
Epistle.
1 St. John iii. 13-18.
Dearly beloved:
Wonder not if the world hate you. We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren. He that loveth not, abideth in death. Whosoever hateth his brother, is a murderer. And you know that no murderer hath eternal life abiding in himself. In this we have known the charity of God, because he hath laid down his life for us: and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. He that hath the substance of this world, and shall see his brother in need, and shall shut up his bowels from him: how doth the charity of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word, nor in tongue, but in deed and in truth.
Gospel.
St. Luke xiv. 16-24.
At that time: Jesus spoke to the Pharisees this parable: A certain man made a great supper, and invited many. And he sent his servant at supper-time to say to them that were invited that they should come, for now all things are ready. And they began all at once to make excuse. The first said to him: I have bought a farm, and I must needs go out and see it; I pray thee, have me excused. And another said: I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to try them; I pray thee, have me excused. And another said: I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come. And the servant returning, told these things to his lord. Then the master of the house, being angry, said to his servant: Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and the feeble, and the blind and the lame. And the servant said: Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. And the lord said to the servant: Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. But I say unto you that none of those men that were called shall taste my supper.
Sermon LXXXV.
A certain man made a great supper,
and invited many.
—St. Luke xiv. 16.
If there could be any question about what kind of a "great supper" our Lord meant in the parable all doubt is removed by reading the Gospel, which tells us that some one of the persons to whom he was speaking had just said: "Blessed is he who shall eat bread in the kingdom of God." We know how to interpret the parable. The "great supper" is the divine banquet of Holy Communion, in which we receive the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ. On another occasion our Lord said: "I am the bread that came down from heaven. If any man eat of this bread he shall live for ever, and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world." The parable of the "great supper" is, therefore, very appropriately chosen as the Gospel for this Sunday in the octave of the magnificent and triumphal festival of Corpus Christi. This festival is also well placed in the calendar of the church, coming as it does, at the end of all the solemn commemorations of the divine life and person of our Lord. For the institution of the Blessed Sacrament is the greatest act of his love; the consummation and fulfilment of his love. "Having loved his own, he loved them unto the end." He is present in this divine mystery because he would be present with us and give himself to us, and unite himself to us in the most intimate manner. He promised that he would live in us, and we in him and be one with him. In the Blessed Sacrament he makes that life and union a reality.
Before the altars of his holy church, therefore, he spreads the holy table for his "great supper," and he invites many to the banquet. Such an invitation, we would think, does not need much urging to bring in the guests—all the guests—as quickly and as frequently as he desires. And yet, as he tells us in the parables, and as we see and hear ourselves, there are many who make little of his invitation, and either do not come at all or come with such reluctance or so seldom that it is plain they are acting more from fear of punishment than from a motive of love.
It is true that those who do not come when he calls are far from daring to say that it is not worth coming to, but they act very much as if they thought so. They have other friends who invite them to their feasts, and as they think more of these friends than they do of Jesus Christ, and relish their food more than they do his, they send in their excuses to him. These excuses are paltry enough. One has bought a farm and must go and see it; another has purchased five yoke of oxen—this is just the time he must go and try them; a third has just got married, and so on. Any excuse for not coming to Communion seems good enough for some Catholics, who want to keep friends and company with the world, the flesh, and the devil, and eat their dishes of avarice, lust, and pride. I don't wonder they stay away; for let a man get his heart full of avarice, or burning with lust, or puffed up with pride, the very idea of Holy Communion is wearisome and distasteful to him.
But there is a dreadful warning in the parable. The excuses are not taken; and he who sets forth the banquet declares that none of such men shall eat of his supper; and he makes that threat in anger. Woe, then, to those Easter-duty breakers who heard the invitation and came not! They have incurred the anger of the Lord. To pass by the Easter duty out of contempt for it, or because one is unwilling to give up the sins that he knows make him unfit to make it, is to commit a mortal sin. And when I see some persons who know their duty, and have every opportunity, neglecting their Easter Communion for years, and appearing to be perfectly hardened against every appeal and argument made to them, I am always fearful lest the Lord is not only angry with them, but that he is carrying out his threat that he will never invite them again, and that they will die some day without absolution and without Communion. Oh! if there be any such here let them hasten to beg pardon with deep contrition for their past neglect, and earnestly seek for admission to the heavenly banquet. Perhaps it may not be yet too late even for them. I know it is the eleventh hour, but the Lord invites some to come even at the eleventh hour. But they must not wait longer! At midnight the door will be shut, and the only answer they will get then is; "It is too late; I know you not!" God grant that such a curse of banishment from the eternal Communion of heaven shall never be addressed to one of us!
Sermon LXXXVI.
And they began all at once to make excuse.
—St. Luke xiv. 18.
Notice the words, my brethren. Our Lord does not say that these men whom the master of the house invited to supper all happened to have an excuse, but that they began all at once to make one. They gave various flimsy reasons why they could not come— reasons that anybody could see would not have prevented them from coming if they had wanted to, but were merely given in order to avoid telling the plain truth, which was that they did not care a straw for the one who had invited them or for the supper that he proposed to give.
Well, now, what did our Saviour mean by this story which I have read you in the Gospel?—for he certainly did not tell it simply for the amusement of his disciples. It was a parable, and had a spiritual signification, or more than one. I think there cannot be much doubt in our minds about one of them, at least. We cannot help seeing that the supper means the rich banquet to which all of us are invited, and which has been commemorated in the great solemnity of Corpus Christi, through which we have just passed. God himself is the master of the house, and he has invited all of as his friends—that is, all of us who have come by holy baptism into the fold of his church—to come to this great feast, the feast of his own Body and Blood. Not once only but many times he has invited, nay, commanded, you all to come and taste of this supper, which is himself—to receive him in Holy Communion.
And what have you done—many of you, at least? You have done exactly what these men did of whom the parable tells us. You have, as soon as the words of invitation came to you, immediately set about to see if you could not find some way of avoiding compliance with them. You have begun all at once to make excuses—excuses as silly as those which the men made in the parable.
"Oh!" you say, "I have not got time to approach the sacraments worthily. It's all very well for women, who can run to church whenever they want, but I have got my business to attend to; if I neglect it my family will starve." Humbug! I say—as transparent humbug as that stupid story which the man whom our Lord speaks of had about his farm. "I have bought a farm," says he, "and I must needs go out and see it." That excursion to his farm was got up just to dodge the invitation, which he did not care to accept. It is the same with you. Your business is not so important that it will keep you from the theatre or the liquor-store, but as soon as the service of God is mentioned it becomes urgent all at once.
Or perhaps you do not plead any particular business, but you make an excuse like that of the man who said he had married a wife, and therefore could not come. You say: "Piety is very good for priests and religious; but I am living in the world, and can't be good enough to go to Communion." Humbug! I say again; you know very well that there have been plenty of people, who have lived in a much brighter world than is ever likely to be open to you, who have not only made good communions, but made them frequently, and become saints by doing so. Kings and queens have given the lie to your excuse. Are you more in the world than St. Henry, Emperor of Germany; St. Louis, King of France; the two Saints Elizabeth, of Hungary and Portugal; and St. Margaret, Queen of Scotland, whose feast we kept last Tuesday?
Don't make any more foolish excuses, then; our Lord, who has invited you to his banquet, will not be deceived by them. Acknowledge the truth, that if you do not come to his supper it is because you do not care for it, or for Him who gives it.
But do you dare to say this? I hope not. Do not say it, then. Do what is far better. Come when he calls you. Come, that you may not offend him, as those ungrateful men of whom the parable tells us offended the master of the house. Come, that he may not say to you, as the master of the house said: "Those men who were called shall not taste my supper," not even when they shall desire it at the hour of their death. Come, that your inheritance in the kingdom of heaven may not be taken away from you, and others called in to take the places which you have refused. Come and show love and not base ingratitude to Him who has taken so much pains to prepare this feast for you; this feast which is not only the greatest gift that he can give you now, but also a pledge of the kingdom which has been prepared for such of you as are faithful, from the foundation of the world.
Sermon LXXXVII.
And they began all at once to make excuse.
—St. Luke xiv. 18.
When men are in sin and do not wish to give it up the answer which they commonly make to an invitation of God is an excuse. Excuses! Yes, there are plenty of them. But from what do these men of whom our Lord speaks in this parable wish to be excused? Is it from something painful and humiliating? No, strange to say, it is from a great privilege; it is from a wonderful feast in which men receive the Food of Angels and are made one with God; it is from the feast of the Blessed Sacrament, in which our Blessed Lord offers his own Body and Blood. What! is it possible that one who has the faith and is possessed of reason can slight such a gift from the God who has redeemed him? Listen to the excuse of one: "I have bought a farm." What is a farm? It is dirt. His excuse, then, is that he does not want the Bread of Heaven, because he is occupied with dirt. In a word, he prefers dirt to God. But another man has this excuse for spurning the heavenly banquet: "He has bought five yoke of oxen," and he wants "to go and try them." He declines the company of the saints and angels because he prefers that of oxen. He had rather be with the brutes, because he is much like them himself. His body rules his soul, and he is too much of an animal to care anything about a feast which furnishes only good for the soul.
But we hear yet another excuse. Here is a man who "has married a wife, and therefore cannot come." What does this mean? Does he pretend that the holy sacrament of matrimony is keeping him away? But this is not the shadow of an excuse. Ah! if he would speak out his mind clearly he certainly would have an excuse. He means that he cannot come because he is wallowing in the mire of sin. He is too filthy to come. He would have to purify himself. He cannot put on the wedding garment of divine grace and wallow with the swine, so he thinks that he will leave the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ to others and stay where he is.
You see, brethren, what it is to offer an excuse when God invites or commands; and these are only fair samples of the excuses which all sinners who seek to justify their conduct make. But what do such excuses denote? They are sure signs of impenitence. Men often make hypocrites of themselves by their excuses. Some even make bad confessions by covering their guilt with an excuse; and a great many show their imperfect sorrow for sin in this way. On the other hand, the man who is sincerely sorry for his sins fears nothing so much as to excuse a fault. He would rather accuse himself of too much than to excuse himself for the least fault. Excuses such as are mentioned in this parable may justify men before the world, but never before God. When our souls come before the Divine Judge all their disguises shall be torn off. Eternal justice shall then reveal all; it shall weigh every motive; it shall judge every act.
But what does our Divine Lord say of those who now refuse his invitation to this heavenly banquet? He says: "None of those men who were called shall taste my supper." Those who now receive the sweet invitation of our Blessed Lord to approach the altar will at the hour of death wish for that divine food, which they now treat with so much contempt; but God may then say to them: "You did not come when I invited you, and now you shall not taste my supper."
Third Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter v. 6-11.
Dearly beloved:
Be you humbled under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in the time of visitation. Casting all your solicitude upon him, for he hath care of you. Be sober and watch; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour. Whom resist ye, strong in faith: knowing that the same affliction befalleth your brethren who are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory in Christ Jesus, when you have suffered a little, will himself perfect, and confirm, and establish you. To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Gospel.
St. Luke xv. 1-10.
At that time:
The publicans and sinners drew near unto Jesus to hear him. And the Pharisees and the Scribes murmured, saying: This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. And he spoke to them this parable, saying: What man among you that hath a hundred sheep: and if he shall lose one of them, doth he not leave the ninety-nine in the desert, and go after that which was lost until he find it? And when he hath found it, doth he not lay it upon his shoulders rejoicing: and coming home call together his friends and neighbors, saying to them: Rejoice with me, because I have found my sheep that was lost. I say to you, that even so there shall be joy in heaven upon one sinner that doth penance, more than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance. Or what woman having ten groats, if she lose one groat, doth not light a candle and sweep the house and seek diligently until she find it? And when she hath found it, call together her friends and neighbors, saying: Rejoice with me, because I have found the groat which I had lost. So I say to you, there shall be joy before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance.
Sermon LXXXVIII.
Rejoice with me,
because I have found my sheep that was lost.
—St. Luke xv. 6.
I am sure you have often heard related, if you have not yourselves known, examples of the singular affection which parents show towards the worst behaved child they have, the "black sheep of the flock," as their neighbors call him, or her, as the case may be—some wretched, ungrateful, dissipated son whose disgraceful life and cruel treatment of them fairly breaks their hearts; or some disobedient, wild daughter who is led off and gets ruined. While they are in the height of their bad career the parents are very apt to act as if they wished every tie between them broken. No one dares mention the name of their lost child to them. Instances have been known where the angry parents have blotted out the name of the dishonored one from the record in the family Bible where it was written on the day when he was brought back an innocent child from the font of baptism, and when they have taken the little lock of flaxen hair cut from their darling's head, and kept so many years as a treasure, and have scattered it to the winds. But what do we see? There comes a time when things are at their worst, when their poor lost one has reaped the bitter fruits of his disobedience and is in utter misery and despair; then the hearts of the parents are softened; they yearn to see their poor child once more, and all on a sudden there is a reconciliation, all is forgiven and forgotten; the one who was dead has come to life again, and the lost one is found. The parents will not hear one word said against him, but on the contrary, in word and action, say to all their friends: Rejoice with me, because I have found my child that was lost.
Now, if we examine into any such a case we shall almost certainly discover that the penitence of the bad child bears no comparison to the greatness of the parents' affection or to the magnanimity of their forgiveness. Very few such repenting sinners are deserving of the joyful pardon they receive. Mercy is always a mystery, and pardon ever a miracle. So it is with God and his divine forgiveness of repenting sinners. Our Lord tells us there is joy in heaven over their return. Did you ever know any such case whose repentance you thought was worthy of such celestial rejoicings? Very, very few, I am sure. And how many forgiven sinners, do you think, realize that God loves them so much as that—so much that, when he has brought back to his love and obedience one so unworthy, he should tell all his holy angels of the happy event and bid them rejoice with him? Not many. This truth however, is a most important one which our Lord wishes us to learn. It is the greatness of his mercy and the depth of his love. To tell the honest truth, it is the revelation of God's mercy and love that will bring hardened sinners back, which will win and convert them when nothing else will. We often see the proof of this on our missions, when we find the hardest cases, the most abandoned and hopeless sinners, coming to confession after the sermon on the mercy of God. And who does not know that an appeal made to sinners by showing them the crucifix, where they see their Lord and Saviour dying for his great love, with arms outstretched to receive them back, is an argument few of them can withstand? The sermon of the Cross is one the holy church is always preaching—the sermon of love and mercy.
Well, dear brethren, learn this lesson from the Gospel. When you find the burden of sin heavy on you, and your conscience tells you that you have wandered far from God, go before a crucifix and let the love and mercy of your crucified Lord preach to you.
There is nothing helps one so much to overcome the horror and shame of going to confession as a few minutes' prayer on one's knees before a crucifix. Are you in temptation and danger of losing God? Kiss the feet of a crucifix and you are saved. Do you want to win and save those who have sinned against you? Preach to them the sermon of mercy and love, in your own way, and, like God, you will win them and convert them, and rejoice with your friends that you have found the lost one again.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon LXXXIX.
Be sober, and watch.
—1 St. Peter v. 8.
These few words of the Epistle, my brethren, contain a most important lesson for us. We may indeed say that of all the innumerable souls which have been lost, and which are going down every day into hell, far the greater part have come to this terrible end for neglect of this warning.
There is a proverb, with which you are all familiar, that [the road to] hell is paved with good intentions. What does this mean? Does it mean that a good intention in itself is a thing which leads to hell? Of course not. But it means that the kind of good intentions which people are too apt to make are signs rather of damnation than of salvation, as they should be.
What is this kind of good intention? It is one which stops just there, and which the one who makes it does not take the means to carry out. Sometimes we call them by a stronger name than intentions. We call them purposes, even firm purposes of amendment. They are the kind of purposes which a great many people make when they repent, or think they repent, of their habitual sins.
A man comes to confession with a fearful habit of sin—of profane swearing, for instance. It has been on him for years. He has learned it in his youth, perhaps, from wicked parents or companions. He has almost become unconscious of it, and it seems to him no very important thing; it may be that he would not even mention it, did not the priest question him pretty closely. But when the priest does warn him about it he makes up his mind in a certain way that he ought to stop it, and makes a kind of purpose to do so. It is to be feared, however, that this is one of the purposes or intentions with which hell is paved. And why? Because it stops just there. It has no effect at all. It is all gone before he gets out of the confession-box. He will swear just as much to-morrow as he did to-day. He does not, probably, even remember his purpose, at any rate only till the time of his Communion; or if, perchance, he does remember it, he does not take the means to carry it out. And what is that means above all others? It is to watch against his sin. This he does not do. He does not keep on his guard to avoid those horrible oaths which have become a fixed habit with him. He does not watch himself, and, of course, falls again as he did before.
Now you see, perhaps, the importance of St. Peter's warning in the Epistle. Most of you who will be lost will be lost on account of habitual sins like this I have spoken of, not on account of occasional and unusual ones. It may be a habit of impure thoughts or words, of drunkenness, or something else; but it is a habit of some kind that will cause your damnation. The habit is a disease of your soul; you must get rid of it, if you wish to have any well-grounded hope of salvation. And you cannot get rid of it without watching as well as praying. "Watch," says our Lord, "that you enter not into temptation."
Yes, a bad habit is a disease of your soul, a weak spot in it which you must guard. It is there your enemy is going to enter. What does St. Peter go on to say? "Be sober, and watch," he says, "for your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour." Very well; the devil is not such a fool as to neglect your weak points. So it is those which you must watch and guard.
If, then, you would be saved, keep before your mind all the time your habitual sins. Be on your guard against them continually, just as a man going on slippery ice is all the time careful how he places his feet. Repeat your resolutions frequently; make them practical and definite. Say to yourself, "Next time I am provoked I will keep down that profane word; next time such an object comes before my eyes I will turn them away; next time such a thought occurs I will instantly repel it." Be on the lookout for danger, as a sailor is for rocks or icebergs in his course. Pray, of course, earnestly and frequently, but watch as well as pray. If you do you will save your soul; if you do not you will lose it.
Sermon XC.
There shall be joy in heaven
upon one sinner that doth penance,
more than upon ninety-nine just
who need not penance.
—St. Luke xv. 7.
I do not think, my brethren, that there is any parable in the Gospel which comes more home to your own experience than these which you have just heard about the lost sheep and groat. I am sure you have all of you lost something at some time or other; and I am sure, too, that, even though it was not very valuable, you began to think it was when it was lost, and hunted for it high and low. It seemed to you that you cared more for it than for any other article of your property, and that you did not mind much what became of your other things as long as that was missing.
That, of course, was not really the case. For, although you seemed to give all your thoughts and energy in searching for the lost article, you cared just as much all the time for what you meanwhile left at home or unnoticed. And if, while you were hunting up one thing, another should get lost, you would start out after that with just as much anxiety as you did for the other.
So our Lord spends his time, not only now and then but always, chiefly in hunting after what he has lost, and lets what he has got shift a good deal for itself. Always, I say; for he has always lost something. He keeps losing things all the time. The sheep keep straying away from his fold continually. As soon as one is brought back another has gone, and he has to set out in pursuit of it. And meanwhile the sheep in the fold do not seem to get as much care and attention as they think they deserve for their obedience and general good behavior.
Now, this is an important thing for the sheep to understand, both for those who have not strayed away and for those who have. Those who are faithful must be contented with his absence, and those who are not should thank him and reward him for his labor for them.
Those who need no penance—that is, those who remain habitually in the state of grace—are apt to say: "Why is it that religion does not give me more happiness? Why is it that I have so little devotion and that God seems so far away?" Well, the reason is because he is away. He is off hunting for sinners. He is giving them his chief attention and his choicest graces because they need them. The just can get along with the sacraments, which are always open to them, and with the other ordinary means of salvation.
Or you say, perhaps: "Why is it that the best preachers and confessors among the fathers are out on the mission, so that we seldom or never see or hear them?" Well, that is for the same reason. Our Lord sends them out on the hunt in which he is so much interested. Surely you will not find fault with him. You will not deprive him of his greatest joy—that of bringing sinners back—for the sake of offering him a little more devotion, which he does not care so much about. No, you will rather be faithful, and do your duty in the place where he has put you, and be very thankful that you are not among the lost, and perhaps one among them who will never be found.
And surely those who have strayed away and whom he is seeking, when they come to think of it, will try to give him the consolation which he takes so much trouble to secure. They will not let him spend all his time on them and get nothing for it in return. No, they will not hide from him any longer; they will give themselves to him, never to stray again; and be the occasion of a joy in heaven which shall not be merely for a moment, but which shall last for evermore.
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Romans viii. 18-23.
Brethren:
I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us. For the expectation of the creature waiteth for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him that made it subject, in hope: because the creature also itself shall be delivered from the servitude of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God. For we know that every creature groaneth, and is in labor even till now. And not only it, but ourselves also, who have the first-fruits of the spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption of the sons of God, the redemption of our body, in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Gospel.
St. Luke v. 1-11.
At that time:
When the multitudes pressed upon Jesus to hear the word of God, he stood by the lake of Genesareth. And he saw two ships standing by the lake: but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were washing their nets. And going up into one of the ships that was Simon's, he desired him to thrust out a little from the land. And sitting down, he taught the multitudes out of the ship. Now when he had ceased to speak, he said to Simon: Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. And Simon answering, said to him: Master, we have labored all the night, and have taken nothing: but at thy word I will let down the net. And when they had done this, they enclosed a very great multitude of fishes, and their net was breaking. And they beckoned to their partners that were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they were almost sinking; which when Simon Peter saw, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying: Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, Lord. For he was wholly astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had taken. And so were also James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were Simon's partners. And Jesus saith to Simon: Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt be taking men. And when they had brought their ships to land, leaving all things, they followed him.
Sermon XCI.
And sitting down,
he taught the multitudes out of the ship.
—St. Luke v. 3.
The ship, as the Gospel tells us, was St Peter's, and our Lord continues to teach his divine doctrine from the same ship. This ship of St. Peter is the Catholic Church. Its captain is the Pope, the Vicar of Jesus Christ. He not only guides the ship in its ordinary course, but knows also what special orders to give when particular dangers threaten it. The plain duty of every Catholic is, therefore to receive with obedience the teaching of the Pope, and in times of danger to be on the alert and obey quickly, without hesitation and with perfect confidence. There is no fear for the ship herself, no matter what storms may arise. The danger is for those who are in her, and each one's safety depends upon his prompt obedience. There are some Catholics who appear to think that because the ship is always safe they are safe too, no matter how they behave. Alas! this is often a fatal mistake. Christ teaches by the mouth of Peter, and their salvation depends upon their listening to what is taught, and learning the lessons of faith and morality which fall from his lips. But what do we see? We see many who remain so ignorant of their religion that they ought to be ashamed to call themselves Catholics. There is plenty of instruction given, but they take no pains to hear it. Year in and year out they never come to a sermon or instruction. They never think of reading a good religious book or a Catholic newspaper. They have time to go to some immoral play at the theatre, they read the trashy, beastly stuff that is served up daily and weekly to pander to depraved appetites such as theirs, but of their sublime, true, and holy religion, which should be a light to their minds and a comfort to their hearts, they know next to nothing. They let their children grow up in the like ignorance, who are swift to follow the bad example set before them. Now, the chief duty of a Catholic is to learn what his religion teaches, and it is a grievous sin to neglect the opportunities one has to acquire that knowledge. The devil is busy scattering the seed of false doctrine, and keeping his agents at work telling all sorts of lies about God and Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church, and it is not possible for one to keep his faith pure unless he takes care to learn all he has the chance to learn of the truths of his holy religion.
Then, again, see how anxious people are nowadays that their children should have what is called "a good education." What is the teaching of Christ from the ship of Peter on this subject? It is that without religion education cannot be good. Our faiths, as well as our experience, tells us that an education with religion left out is apt to prove rather a curse than a blessing to a child. Pride, conceit, loose morals, love of money, disobedience to parents and clergy—these are the things we see plenty of in the lives and habits of children who have received a "good education" with religion left out.
There is another thing which is often the subject of much wonder to me. From time to time the bishops and priests find it necessary to warn their people against certain prevailing vices, or to denounce certain secret societies as anti-Christian, or to make regulations which are required to secure the proper administration of the sacraments—for instance, the publication of the bans of marriage—and there are found Catholics who set themselves in opposition to these counsels and laws of their pastors with a pertinacious obstinacy such as one would not expect to see except in a downright heretic. The conceit of these people is truly marvellous. They talk and act as if the whole Catholic Church belonged to them, and their priests were a miserable set of hirelings who can be persuaded to connive at anything they choose to pay them for. What is the reason of this? I'll tell you. It is due to their ignorance. The better instructed a Catholic is the more docile and humble he is. He hears Christ teaching when he hears the instructions of his pastor, and he rejoices to follow his counsels. "He that heareth you heareth me," said our Lord. God send us Catholics who love their religion well enough to make them desirous of being well instructed in its doctrine!
Sermon XCII.
I reckon that the sufferings of this present time
are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come.
—Romans viii. 18.
Brethren, if we wish to rejoice in the next world we must suffer in this. There is no escape from suffering here if we reckon on happiness hereafter. And there are good reasons for this. One is because we must atone for sin. Do not our own sins, little or great, continually cry out for penance? And if we give not suffering willingly they threaten to crucify us in spite of ourselves. And there are the sins of others, of heathens, and heretics, and bad Catholics—all these demand atonement, and, as it was not beneath the dignity of the Son of God to die for them, so, if we are Christians more than in name, we shall be ready to suffer with our blessed Lord for the sins of the world. Another reason why we mast suffer is that we may not become attached to the joys of this world, for we must leave them all some day or other. And, besides, God demands a heart quite undivided; he wants all our love, and not what is left after we have expended our chief affections on created things. And yet another reason for suffering is that we may merit more happiness in heaven. The Christian has a kind Father in heaven, who notes every pang, and sigh, and tear, and who will know how to reward.
So one would think that a wise man would seek sufferings rather than avoid them; would thank God for the afflictions of his providence, and would look upon the troubles of this life—the loss of health, the loss of reputation, the loss of money—would look upon all this as God's way of elevating our life here on earth and of increasing our happiness hereafter; and that it would be true wisdom to voluntarily deny ourselves the joys of this world, reckoning rather upon those of the future life as the apostles did. Yes, brethren, patient suffering is the very A B C of the Christian religion. What are Christ's blessings? Blessed are the poor; blessed are they that mourn; blessed are you when they persecute and revile you. Truly his religion is a religion of the cross.
But what kind of Christians must we think ourselves since we all hate to suffer? We reckon fondly upon the joys of this life; those of the life to come may take care of themselves. Although we have a lifetime of horrid sins in our memory, and know that we have not done any penance, still we not only refuse to suffer willingly, but we speak and act as it God were a cruel tyrant thus to send upon us sickness, and poverty, and disgrace. And as to suffering in union with our Lord Jesus Christ for the sins of the world, such a generous thought never enters our mind at all; nor do we think of mortifying the rebellious passions, nor of the merit of sacrifice, nor of anything except to enjoy this world, to cling to this poor, fleeting world and its deceptive joys.
Brethren, let us strive to obtain a wiser and stronger spirit in regard to suffering. I know that we may not hope to become heroes all at once, but may in time if we begin without delay; and the only way to begin is by prayer. You complain of the company of wicked and unpleasant people; but instead of snapping at them and quarrelling, offer your annoyance to God and pray him to assist you. Are you in poverty? Instead of giving way to weariness and despair, think of Jesus and Mary at the humble cottage at Nazareth; think of the poor, wandering life of our Lord while he preached the Gospel, and beg him to give you some of his own patience. Are you afflicted with incurable illness? Remember that God has sent you this for your own good and will know how to recompense you. Instead of making your friends miserable by your impatience, think of Christ upon the cross, and of your sins which crucified him.
St. Teresa had for her motto these words: "Either to suffer or to die." Oh! that we had only a little of the heroic spirit of the saints. Then we could welcome every dispensation of divine providence, whether of pleasure or of pain, and should be able to say with St. Paul: "I have learned in whatsoever state I am to be content therewith. I know both how to be brought low and how to abound … both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need; I can do all things in him who strengtheneth me" (Phil. iv. 11-13).
Fifth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter iii. 8-15.
Dearly beloved:
Be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, loving brotherhood, merciful, modest, humble: not rendering evil for evil, nor railing for railing, but on the contrary, blessing: for unto this are you called, that by inheritance you may possess a blessing. "For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile. Let him decline from evil, and do good: let him seek peace, and pursue it: because the eyes of the Lord are upon the just, and his ears unto their prayers: but the countenance of the Lord against them that do evil things." And who is he that can hurt you, if you be zealous of good? But if also you suffer anything for justice' sake, blessed are ye. And be not afraid of their terror and be not troubled; but sanctify the Lord Christ in your heart.
Gospel.
St. Matt. v. 20-24.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples: I say to you, that unless your justice abound more than that of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven. You have heard that it was said to them of old: Thou shalt not kill. And whosoever shall kill shall be guilty of the judgment. But I say to you, that whosoever is angry with his brother, shall be guilty of the judgment. And whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be guilty of the council. And whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be guilty of hell fire. Therefore if thou offerest thy gift at the altar, and there shalt remember that thy brother hath anything against thee, leave there thy gift before the altar, and first go to be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift.
Sermon XCIII.
Unless your justice abound
more than that of the Scribes and Pharisees,
you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
—St. Matt. v. 20.
The Scribes and Pharisees were very particular about keeping the letter of the law, and prided themselves mightily on this kind of "justice." But Jesus Christ says that unless our righteousness exceed theirs we shall not save our souls. Here, then, he teaches us that we must keep the spirit of the commandments as well as the letter. And to show what he means by the spirit of the law, he quotes the commandment which forbids murder. "Now, it is not enough," he says, "that you refrain from committing murder; you must equally refrain from the passion of anger—anger, that is, which destroys charity, and breeds ill-will, hatred, and revenge; for those who give way to these malicious feelings shall be arraigned at my judgment-seat side by side with murderers." Among those who heard him was St. John, his apostle; and St. John says: "He that hateth his brother is a murderer."
Again, our Lord tells us that the spirit of the Fifth Commandment includes lesser sins than anger—that to call our brother contemptuous names, to provoke and irritate him by hard words (except, of course, in the case of just rebuke), is a grave violation of this law as he would have us Christians understand it.
The words which follow—addressed to those who were in the habit of going into the temple to lay their gifts before God's altar—apply with even greater force to us. We come before God's altar when we come to hear Mass, and we come with the profession, at least, of offering a gift—that worship which is the tribute of our faith and love. There is one thing, then, which our Lord requires before he will receive our offering: that "our brother have" not "anything against us." In other words, we must be in perfect charity with our neighbor. If we have anything against him, we must forgive him there and then "from our hearts." If he have anything against us, we must either have already done our best towards reconciliation and reparation, or at least be prepared and determined to do it at the very first opportunity.
Now, it may be we are not in the state of grace when we come to hear Mass, but, on the contrary, laden with mortal sins. Well, we still have the right to hear Mass—nay, are bound to hear it; and, further, we can still offer a gift, and a very acceptable gift—an earnest prayer for contrition and amendment—a cry for mercy and deliverance. Our Lord once said to St. Mathilda: "However guilty a man may be, however inveterate the enmity of his heart against me. I will patiently bear with him whenever he is present at Mass, and will readily grant him the pardon of his sins if he sincerely ask it." Clearly, then, dear brethren, there is but one thing that can keep even a poor sinner from coming before God's altar with an acceptable gift—viz., the want of charity to his neighbor; that is, either the refusal to say from his heart: "Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us"; or, equally, the refusal to seek reconciliation or make reparation for wrongs of his own doing. Now, in either case there is a brother who "has something against us," and that brother is Jesus Christ himself, who calls all men his brethren without exception, and especially our fellow-Catholics, having given to all his Sacred Heart and the love of his Blessed Mother.
Rev. Algernon A. Brown.
Sermon XCIV.
He that will love life and see good days,
let him refrain his tongue from evil.
—1 St. Peter iii. 10.
The words of the blessed Apostle St. Peter teach us that the good, peaceable man is the happiest, that God rewards a kind heart even in this life. Yes, the kindly-spoken man is a happy man. He has no quarrels on his hands. You cannot make him quarrel. Though he be strong and active, yet he is incapable of using his strength to injure his neighbor. Say a sharp, bitter thing to him, and instead of feeling insulted, he will laugh it off, and tell you to be good-natured, or will act as if he had offended you. And the good, peaceable man is no slanderer or tale-bearer. When he hears anything to his neighbor's detriment he is sorry; he buries it in his kind heart, and tries to forget it. If his friends quarrel among themselves, he is the ready and successful peacemaker. If death, sickness, or misfortune of any kind afflicts his neighbor, he is the kind and skilful comforter. What do people think of such a man? Everybody loves him. And is not that happiness? Why, if a dog loves you it gives you joy, and the affection of many friends makes this world a paradise. So the good, peaceable man has that element of a lovely life and good days.
I need not say that the good, peaceable man is happy in his family. How children love a kind parent! How they enjoy home when he is there, with his happy laugh and innocent jest! His wife is proud of that husband, and blesses God for such a father for her little ones. There is no bickering, jealousy, or ill-will in that home, but charity and joy the whole year round.
And the good, peaceable man is happy in his own self-respect. Without presumption he may say with the apostle: "I owe no man anything." He owes no man any grudge. He has inflicted sorrow upon no man. He has deprived no man of honor or of goods. He who is not at war with his neighbor is at peace with himself. His conscience is at peace, and a peaceful conscience is a soft pillow. So that by his kind words and deeds he really loves his life, as St. Peter says, and has provided himself with good days.
But besides all this, God watches over the good, peaceable man. "He that loveth his neighbor hath fulfilled the law," says the Scripture. Our Lord loves those who love his children, and he is one who can make his friends happy. Did he not promise a reward for even a cup of cold water? And are not kind words often of more worth than bodily refreshment? God loves the good, peaceable man, and the love of God is enough to make any one happy.
So the next time you complain and say, "Oh! why am I so miserable? what ails me or my family, or my neighbors, that I am always in hot water, and can scarcely call one day in ten really happy?" just ask yourself: "Am I a peaceable, good-natured man?" Anger, hatred, and ill-will poison one's food as well as kill the soul, disturb one's sleep as well as perplex the conscience. To be happy you must be loved; and who will love one who hates? A sour face, a bitter tongue, a bad heart, gain no friends. A harsh voice, a cruel hand, a selfish heart, turn wife and child into enemies. So the suspicious man is unhappy; he breeds treason and jealousy among his friends. The touchy man is unhappy; you shun his company, for you fear to offend him. The critical man is unhappy; he is over-zealous about others and careless of himself. And, brethren, I might continue the sad litany, and to every unkind act, or thought, or word I could answer, it makes men miserable.
Come, brethren, let us all try and be good-natured. Let us be so for the love of our Lord, who made and loves us all, and died to bind us all together in one happy household.
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Romans vi. 3-11.
Brethren:
We all, who are baptized in Christ Jesus, are baptized in his death. For we are buried together with him by baptism unto death: that as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life. For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, in like manner we shall be of his resurrection. Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, and that we may serve sin no longer. For he that is dead is justified from sin. Now if we be dead with Christ, we believe that we shall live also together with Christ: knowing that Christ rising again from the dead, dieth now no more, death shall no more have dominion over him. For in that he died to sin, he died once: but in that he liveth, he liveth unto God. So do you also reckon yourselves to be dead indeed to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Gospel.
St. Mark viii. 1-9.
At that time:
When there was a great multitude with Jesus, and had nothing to eat, calling his disciples together, he saith to them: I have compassion on the multitude, for behold they have now been with me three days, and have nothing to eat. And if I send them away fasting to their own houses, they will faint in the way, for some of them came from afar off. And his disciples answered him: From whence can any one satisfy them here with bread in the wilderness? And he asked them: How many loaves have ye? And they said: Seven. And he commanded the people to sit down on the ground, and taking the seven loaves, giving thanks, he broke, and gave to his disciples to set before them, and they sat them before the people. And they had a few little fishes, and he blessed them and commanded them to be set before them. And they did eat and were filled, and they took up that which was left of the fragments, seven baskets. And they that had eaten were about four thousand: and he sent them away.
Sermon XCV.
Taking the seven loaves, giving thanks,
he broke and gave to his disciples to set before them.
—St. Mark viii. 6.
On this and on other occasions our Lord Jesus Christ blessed the food that was to be eaten. In imitation of his divine example we are taught to give thanks and bless ourselves and our food at meals. This pious practice is commonly called grace before and after meat. The word "grace" is English for the Latin word "gratias," which means thanks, taken from the thanksgiving to be said after meals. There are two prayers to be said, therefore: the first, a blessing to be invoked upon ourselves and upon the food prepared; and the second, a thanksgiving to be said after we have eaten it. The first is as follows: "Bless us, Lord, and these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bountiful hands, through Christ our Lord. Amen."
When we say the words, "Bless us, Lord," we should make the sign of the cross on ourselves. When we say "These thy gifts," we should make the sign of the cross over the table. The thanksgiving is said thus: "We give thee thanks, Almighty God, for all thy benefits, who livest and reignest for ever and ever. Amen." And it is also proper to add: "May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace." The Catholic practice is also to say these prayers standing.
In religious communities the blessing and grace are much longer, consisting of versicles and sentences from Scripture appropriate to the ecclesiastical season or festival; the Lord's Prayer is said and the "Te Deum" is said.
This is a pious practice which ought to prevail in all Catholic families. The children should be taught to do it from the time they can bless themselves and lisp the words. Yes, everything we eat and wear ought to be blessed first before we use it. The sign of the cross and asking God's blessing is to acknowledge, as we are in duty bound, the source of all that is given to us, and to sanctify it to our own use, and also to make a good intention in using it. To act otherwise—to hurry to table and eat and drink without a thought of God or a word of religion, as I have seen so many do—is to act like a heathen or a beast.
And this practice is not only for those who have a table set before them supplied with every luxury in the way of food, but it is especially good for those whose poverty compels them to sit down to scanty and common meals. The rich certainly ought to bless their bountifully-supplied tables, lest they prove to them the dangerous occasion of intemperance and gluttony, but the poor should remember the miracle of to-day's Gospel, when our Lord blessed and gave thanks over seven loaves and a few little fishes, and with that small store satisfied the hunger of four thousand people. God is ever a kind, loving Father, and will not forget the cry of those who put their trust in him. Such was the trust of the poor man who had nothing but a little porridge to set before his family at dinner when he said: "God be good to us, and make this trifle of porridge go far enough for a poor man with a wife and seven children."
This makes me think of two classes of people who I wish could be obliged to bless with the sign of the cross what they give and receive as nourishment. I mean the liquor-seller and the drunkard. The grocery-keeper, the butcher, the baker could do it, and why not the liquor-seller? You know the result if they did; the one would soon give up the business, and the other would soon give up drinking.
But do not forget, as some do, to return thanks—to say the grace after meals. Thank God for what you have received from his bounty. Again I say, act like a reasonable being and a Christian in this, and not like a heathen or a beast. You who are parents should see to the carrying out of this instruction. If you have not done so yet, begin to-day. Let the father say the prayer and make the sign of the cross over the table, and if one of the children come late don't give him a morsel to eat till he has said his blessing. In all things remember you are Christians, "giving thanks always for all things in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ to God and the Father."
Sermon XCVI.
Know you not
that all we who are baptized in Christ Jesus
are baptized in his death.
—Romans vi. 3.
These are strong words, brethren, too strong, I fear, to be accepted in their full meaning by many of us; for we are quite too apt to mitigate the strong doctrine of Christ. Those great maxims of penance, of poverty, of obedience, of perfection, which the saints understood in their plain reality, we are very anxious to understand in a figurative sense, or to apply to somebody else besides our guilty selves. But let us look fairly and frankly at these strong words of St. Paul. How are we baptized in Christ's death? By being guilty of the sins which delivered him up to his enemies. Did he not die on account of mortal sins, and have we not committed mortal sins—violated God's most sacred commandments, and done it often—and wilfully, and knowingly, and habitually done it? Then the innocent blood of the Lamb of God is upon our hands, and nothing but penance can ever wash it off. And what sort of a penance? So thorough, so heartfelt, so practical that the apostle says it must condemn and put us to death with Christ; a penance so thorough that our Lord himself tells us that it must produce a new being in us: "Unless a man be born again he cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven." So you see that St. Paul, in the words of our text, has given us the very charter of Christian penance; just as he explains it a little further on: "Knowing this, that our old man is crucified with Christ, that the body of sin may be destroyed."
Behold, therefore, brethren, the plain statement of the greatest of all the practical duties of the Christian; to make reparation to God for his sins in union with the sufferings and death of Jesus Christ. They tell us that our only hope of restored innocence is in participation in the crucifixion—its shame, its agony, and its death.
Oh! that we could fully realize the necessity of penance. Oh! that the terrible form of Christ upon the cross could be ever in our eyes as it is ever above our altars. Oh! that the awful cries of Jesus' death agony could be ever sounding in our ears. Then we should be Christians indeed. Then the profound hatred of sin, the Christian duties of fasting and prayer, the holy offices of helping the poor and instructing the ignorant, the devout reception of God's grace in the sacraments; in a word, all the yearly round of a good Catholic life would have its true meaning. If we appreciated that Christ died for our sins, we should not have to drag ourselves so reluctantly to confession, we should not grumble at the fast of Lent, we should not strive to creep out of the duty of paying our debt of penance to God by this or that all too ready excuse, but we should take Christ for our example and his cross for our standard, and long for stripes and even death as the wages of sin. We should appreciate the wisdom of what the old monk of the desert said to the novice when asked for a motto: "Wherever you are, or whatever you are doing, say often to yourself: I am a pilgrim." Yes, a pilgrim; a banished son wearily waiting till his Father shall call him home; a convicted traitor working out the years of his banishment. I know, brethren, that this sounds like a melancholy doctrine. Yet is it not true? And to know the truth is the first beginning of peace in the heart. And listen to the joyful side. Hear it stated by the apostle in this very epistle: "For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, in like manner we shall be of his resurrection." Yes; if we die to our old selves and to sin, we shall rise with our Lord Jesus Christ to everlasting glory. He sprang forth from the grave filled with joy, triumphing over sin; and so shall we rise if we are buried with him in penance. And what is the world's joy compared to the joy of paradise? What care we for a few years of labor and waiting here, when we think of the countless ages of the kingdom of heaven! You have heard, brethren, that St. Peter of Alcantara led a very penitential life; well, shortly after death he appeared to one of his friends surrounded with heavenly light and his face beaming with joy, and he exclaimed: "Oh! happy penance which has gained for me so great a reward." Brethren, let us do penance while we can, and leave it to a good God to provide us with happiness, and he will give us joys which will never fade.
Sermon XCVII.
That as Christ is risen from the dead
by the glory of the Father,
so we also may walk in newness of life.
—Romans vi. 4.
The words of the Epistle to-day carry us back to Easter-tide, and give us a renewal of the lessons of Easter. St. Paul tells us that as Christ is risen from the dead and dieth no more, so we also should die indeed to sin, and rise again to newness of life through Jesus Christ our Lord. And as the Gospel relates how our Lord miraculously fed the multitudes in the wilderness, the church to-day seems to speak with especial force to those who have let the Easter-time go by without fulfilling the precept of yearly Communion, without seeking that heavenly food without which our souls must surely die of starvation. To you and to all sinners the church appeals to-day, bidding them at least now to rise from the death of sin and walk in newness of life.
The circumstances attending our Lord's resurrection teach us how we, too, should rise from the dead. An angel descended from heaven, and a mighty earthquake shook the holy sepulchre. And so the grace of God descends into our hearts, moving us to penance, and as with an earthquake our hearts must tremble with the fear of God and true sorrow for our sins. And then as the angel rolled away the stone from the mouth of the tomb, so divine grace will assist us in removing every obstacle in the way of our repentance—the slowness and dulness of our minds and wills, our spiritual sloth, the false shame that may keep us back from a good confession. Arise, and, God's grace urging you, make one mighty effort, and the stone will speedily be rolled away.
Around the grave of our Lord stood the watch of Roman soldiers, guarding the seal that had been set upon the stone. Satan, perhaps, has set his seal upon your heart, and the devils watch around it for fear you should break loose from their bondage. But if you are determined to rise from the death of sin they will be as powerless to hinder you as the Roman soldiers were to prevent the resurrection of Jesus. When he rose from the dead he left behind him the grave-clothes and linen bandages with which his body had been bound. And this teaches us that we should leave behind us our evil habits and inclinations, and no longer remain slaves to our passions. Lazarus could not walk freely after his resurrection until he had been freed from his grave-clothes. Your grave-clothes are the habits of sin you have contracted, the cravings, of your sensual appetites, the love of sin that lingers in your hearts. Cast off these thongs that bind your souls, that you may walk freely in newness of life. When the women came to seek the body of Jesus the angel said to them: "Why seek you the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen." If, risen from the death of sin, Satan should again seek to gain possession of you; if your former bad companions should try to bring you back to your old ways; if the voice of passion should strongly lure you to leave the path of right, you can answer: "Why seek you the living among the dead? My soul is not here; but is risen—risen from the dead. It dieth no more; death hath no more dominion over it." Crucify, then, my dear brethren, the old man within you, that the body of sin may be destroyed, and that you may serve sin no longer. "Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies, so as to obey the lusts thereof," but "reckon yourselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive to God, in Christ Jesus our Lord." As our Lord had compassion upon those who listened to his words, and fed them with the loaves and fishes, so will he also have mercy upon you, if you hearken to his voice now calling you to penance, and will feed you with his own most precious Body and Blood.