Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Galatians v. 16-24.
Brethren:
I say then, walk in the spirit, and you shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh. For the flesh lusteth against the spirit: and the spirit against the flesh; for these are contrary one to another: so that you do not the things that you would. But if you are led by the spirit, you are not under the law. Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are, fornication, uncleanness, immodesty, luxury, idolatry, witchcraft, enmities, contentions, emulations, wrath, quarrels, dissensions, sects, envy, murders, drunkenness, revellings, and such like. Of the which I foretell you, as I have foretold to you, that they who do such things shall not obtain the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the spirit is charity, joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity, mildness, faith, modesty, continency, chastity. Against such there is no law. And they that are Christ's, have crucified their flesh with the vices and concupiscences.
Gospel.
St. Matthew vi. 24-33.
At that time Jesus said to his disciples:
No man can serve two masters. For either he will hate the one, and love the other: or he will hold to the one, and despise the other. You cannot serve God and Mammon. Therefore I say to you, be not solicitous for your life, what you shall eat, nor for your body, what you shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body more than the raiment? Behold the fowls of the air, for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns: and your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they? And which of you by thinking can add to his stature one cubit? And for raiment why are you solicitous? Consider the lilies of the field how they grow: they labor not, neither do they spin. And yet I say to you, that not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed as one of these. Now if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven: how much more you, ye of little faith? Be not solicitous therefore, saying: What shall we eat, or what shall we drink, or wherewith shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the heathen seek. For your Father knoweth that you have need of all these things. Seek ye, therefore, first the kingdom of God and his justice, and all these things shall be added unto you.
Sermon CXX.
The Poverty Of Christ.
For after all these things do the heathen seek.
—St. Matthew. vi. 32.
In this day's Gospel our Blessed Lord would teach us that the difference between men is the difference between the objects for which they live. And he lays down the fundamental law of his kingdom, that if the chief object of one's life is the enjoyment of the things every where about us—eating and drinking and money and lands—he has therein a mark of belonging to the kingdom of this world. To belong to our Lord's kingdom we must live for none of these things as the end of our endeavors. We may, indeed, have and use the things of this world, but for higher purposes than the world itself can offer; as far as any enjoyment in them is concerned, it is too trifling a matter to engage our serious pursuit.
Yet, brethren, is not the whole Christian world absorbed in seeking after what should be the heathen's peculiar treasure? Is not this the most anxious inquiry, How shall I get rich? Is not the possession of riches deemed the most enviable happiness? Is it not the best praise of an individual that he is prosperous, and of a nation that it is wealthy? What a serious lesson it is, therefore, that our Lord expresses his contempt for what is deemed the height of human wisdom among us—a contempt no less profound because so gently expressed! If—he as much as says—if you and I are to make choice of beauty, you may choose King Solomon's wardrobe with all its jewels, and I will take the new-blown lily; if you talk to me of foresight and skill in the business of life, you may admire the successful speculator, but the little sparrow is my model.
And our Lord's life was fully in accord with his doctrine. For it was of set purpose that he saw fit to lack those things that nearly all men covet most; that he was the child of a poor maiden, and the apprentice of a country carpenter; that he was a wanderer barefoot and needy about Judea, yet all the time the only-begotten Son of the Lord of all majesty; that he was seemingly a tried and convicted malefactor, and died naked and all but alone upon the gibbet, yet all the time the immortal King of ages.
The truth is that this unhappy overvaluing of the more lowly things of life is a fault deeply rooted in our fallen nature. That the eager pursuit of wealth is not compatible with God's service; that it is the peculiar province of the heathen we indeed know. And we know that the human soul is too noble a being to expend its dearest action to purchase any perishable thing whatever. Yet very many persons who deem themselves good enough Christians are quite proud of their success in the heathen's way of life. And many other Christians fall into downright despair because God has deprived them of the things that "the heathen seek." Far be it from us indeed to underestimate the burden of poverty, or to say that it is an easy thing to suffer it. God knows that it is a terribly hard thing to be poor; to see one's family suffer actual hunger; to wander about the streets with no roof to cover one; to lie helplessly sick and be too poor to get proper food or medicine. But on the other hand it is wrong to act under such circumstances as if all were lost, or as if God hated us; that is the very time to arouse one's faith in God's love and one's reliance on his promises; to seek his consolation in the holy sacraments; to raise one's eyes hourly to his countenance by fervent prayer that he may relieve the burden, or at any rate grant patience to bear it.
Oh! how few there are who gladly and heartily choose the Kingdom of God and his justice in preference to the treasures of this world! How few there are who do so even grudgingly and doubtfully!
Yet the doctrine stands: to labor for a postponed reward is the Christian's life, and for a present reward the heathen's. To pass by a seen and present joy for the sake of an unseen joy is the Christian's wisdom. To trust the voice of an unseen benefactor—in a word, to walk in the darkness of a supernatural faith—is the fundamental virtue of our religion.
Sermon CXXI.
Brotherly Love.
But the fruit of the spirit is charity.
—Epistle of the Sunday.
Mark these words, brethren; for they describe the Christian religion, at least as far as its practical effects are concerned. The presence of the Holy Ghost is known by a kindly disposition, a friendly feeling towards others, a longing to make others happy, an affectionate sympathy for their sufferings; and all this for the love of God. So St. John says: "We know that we have passed from death to life because we love the brethren." The necessary result of sanctifying grace is a deep attachment to our friends and a loving forgiveness towards our enemies. "For all the law," says St. Paul, "is fulfilled in one sentence: thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Kindness of heart, generosity, self-forgetfulness, done to be like Jesus Christ, is the beginning and the end of our holy faith.
"I give you a new commandment," said our Lord to his disciples, "that you love one another; as I have loved you, that you love one another." Again: "By this shall men know that you are my disciples if you have love for one another." He thus tells us what his law is—fraternal charity; that is the newness of life man got from heaven above; that is the torrent of heavenly influence rushing down upon us and bearing us away upon its billows; and that is the mark set upon us by which we know ourselves, and others may know us, to be the fruit of the Holy Spirit.
But somebody might say, How about the love of God? Is not the love of God the end of all religion? Is it not our first duty to love God so strongly that we prefer him to all things else, even our nearest relatives? Is not the love of God the one absorbing duty of our lives? In answer, my brethren, I have only to say that that is but another way of looking at the same thing; for since the coming of our Lord among us God has become man, and we are born in holy baptism, "not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." When our Lord, true God as he was, took human nature, he took our poor nature just as it is, saving its sinfulness; and it is his blessed will that one by one every man, woman, and child in the world should personally be joined to his divine nature by baptism, and, as St. Peter says, be made partakers of the divinity he possesses. And even the poor, unbaptized heathen, they are to be gifted with this divine privilege by our love for them and our loving efforts to give it to them. Now do you not see why our Lord, his Apostles, and his church made so much of the love of one's neighbor? And do you not see that, whether you begin to love with God or with man, if you do it along with Jesus Christ, you do it with the God-man, and therefore always in God and never out of man?
Yet another might say: But, Father, what about the sacraments, and what about the practice of prayer, and what about the laws of the church? I answer by a comparison: Why do men plant and then reap a field of wheat? That they may in due time get the grain, make bread of part for themselves and families, and sell the rest to their neighbors. Now, some may use the very old-fashioned way of thrashing out the grain by the tread of oxen, and others by the beating of the flail, and others by the great, roaring thrashing-machine. The last way is the quickest and cleanest and best. So our Lord, when he became man, invented the sacraments; he established his church as the new and best way of obtaining the ripe fruit of the Holy Spirit, and that way he commands us to use. So the man who really loves his neighbor as himself learns to do it by using our Lord's methods, the sacraments, and he cannot get along without them. So, brethren, cultivate more and more this sweet Christian virtue of fraternal love; and especially in your families. When the children cry, when they are sickly and peevish, when others are cross and exacting, when some are dull and stupid, when the meals are too late or the food is not cooked right, when the thousand-and-one annoyances of living with others vex and harass you, remember that you are a Christian, and that loving patience, great good nature, fondness for friends—to say nothing of zeal for the conversion of poor sinners—are virtues that will win you the kingdom of heaven.
Sermon CXXII.
Religion For Week-days.
No man can serve two masters. …
You cannot serve God and Mammon.
—Gospel of the Day.
What does our Lord mean by this, my brethren? "No man," he says, "can serve two masters." "Why," you might perhaps answer, "I do not see any difficulty about serving two masters. What is to prevent a man, for instance, after his regular hours of work are over, from hiring himself out for the evenings to some other employer, if he has strength enough to spare? Or, if he can make such an arrangement, why should he not work for one in the morning, and another in the afternoon? And are there not, in fact, many people, teachers, for example, who give private lessons, who have a great number of employers whom they agree to serve at stated times?"
Yes, this seems true enough. It seems so true that I believe there are many people who, in spite of our Lord's statement to the contrary, divide their service between God and Mammon. They hire themselves out to the devil, or at least to the world during the week, and when Sunday comes round, and they put on their good clothes, they change their master at the same time, and, at least for the time that they are in church, read certain words out of their prayer-books, in which they offer their service to God. And they do not appear to think that there is anything strange about this. They think that, of course, decency requires that God should want part of their time for his service, and that he is quite reasonable in only asking for one day out of seven; but that he should have any claim on them during the part of the week that he does not specially reserve does not seem to occur to their minds. That is the time engaged to the other master—that is, to their worldly interests or pleasures. They find no difficulty in reconciling the service of God and Mammon at all; they can be good Christians and also men of the world like others without the slightest trouble.
But I seem to hear some one say, "Father, are you not pushing this matter rather too far? Surely one cannot be in church or saying his prayers at home all the week. Some people may find time to come to early Mass and all the devotions, and live what you may call a pious life generally; but I have to go to my business or my family will starve. What would you have me do?"
Well, I will tell you. I do not find fault with any one for attending to his business during the week, and working as much as he is obliged to provide for himself and his family properly; but I must say, by the way, that many people, under this excuse, fall into the snare of avarice, and work early and late to hoard up riches which neither they nor their family need, and which, left to their children, is only too likely to be an occasion of sin. However, I repeat, no one is to be blamed for attending to the proper duties of his state of life; for working at his business, if it is a legitimate and useful one. But what one is to be blamed for is for attending to it as if, instead of being God's business, as it ought to be, it was no business of his at all; as if he had nothing to say about it, and his laws did not apply to it. The delusion that too many Christians are under is that their religious life and their life in the world are entirely separate concerns; that religion, morality, God's laws in general, have nothing to do with politics, business, buying or selling, or what they call practical affairs. They say, If we did not do as others do about these things, we could not get on at all; so they calmly take for granted, even, perhaps, in the confessional, that such things have no moral aspect whatever.
This is a great delusion and a fatal blunder. A Christian has got to be a Christian first, last, and all the time; one cannot be a Catholic on Sunday, and to all intents and purposes a Protestant or an infidel during the week. If you can't get on on the principle of serving God and trying to find out and do his will on Monday as well as on Sunday, then all I have to say is, "Don't get on." I dare say there is some truth in your complaint; a man who manages his business and daily life generally, as if there was no God in the world, will probably make money faster, and have in some ways a better time, than one will who believes in God and tries to do his will. Very well, then, if you prefer this world to the next, act according to its standard Sunday, Monday, and all the time; but don't try to cut inside of it and get a pass to heaven on the ground that you have used another standard now and then.
Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Galatians v. 25; vi. 10.
Brethren:
If we live in the Spirit, let us also walk in the Spirit. Let us not become desirous of vainglory, provoking one another, envying one another. And if a man can be overtaken in any fault, you, who are spiritual, instruct such a one in the spirit of mildness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted. Bear ye one another's burdens, and so shall you fulfil the law of Christ. For if any man think himself to be something, whereas he is nothing, he deceiveth himself. But let every one prove his own work, and so he shall have glory in himself only, and not in another. For every one shall bear his own burden. And let him who is instructed in the word communicate to him that instructeth him, in all good things. Be not deceived, God is not mocked. For what things a man shall sow, those also shall he reap. For he that soweth in the flesh, of the flesh also shall reap corruption. But he that soweth in the Spirit, of the Spirit shall reap life everlasting. And in doing good, let us not fail. For in due time we shall reap, not failing. Therefore, whilst we have time, let us do good to all men, but especially to those who are of the household of the faith.
Gospel.
St. Luke vii. 11-16.
At that time:
Jesus went into a city called Naim: and there went with him his disciples, and a great multitude. And when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold a dead man was carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow: and much people of the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said to her: Weep not. And he came near and touched the bier. (And they that carried it stood still.) And he said: Young man, I say to thee, Arise. And he that was dead sat up and began to speak. And he delivered him to his mother. And there came a fear on them all: and they glorified God, saying: That a great prophet is risen up among us: and God hath visited his people.
Sermon CXXIII.
The Fruits Of A Bad Life.
Be not deceived, God is not mocked;
for what things a man shall sow,
those also shall he reap.
—Epistle of the Day.
One would think, my dear friends, that the Apostle would hardly have needed to remind any one having common sense, or even a little experience, of such an obvious truth as this. Surely no one expects, when he plants some kind of seed, to have some other kind of crop come from it. "Do men," says our Divine Lord, "gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?" No, we are all well aware that if we want to grow any kind of grain or fruit we must sow the seed or plant the tree which produces it.
And yet, strange to say, though we all do acknowledge this law of nature in everything outside of ourselves, we fail to apply it to ourselves, and especially to our souls. In matters simply pertaining to the body we do indeed know that the cause will produce its effect. If we sow the seed of some fatal disease in ourselves we expect it to break out and run its course; we do not believe that, as a rule, tears or even prayers are going to stop it.
But when it comes to the soul, many Christians seem to think that everything regarding it may be shifted at their own will; that they may go on for years sowing the seeds of all kinds of abominable vices in their souls, and that, later on, whenever they may desire, all this work can be undone in a moment, and those souls, which sin has rotted through and through, can be put right back where they were as they came from the baptismal font, or even set on a perfect level with those in which the seed of every virtue has been implanted and carefully nurtured from childhood.
Ah! my dear brethren, this is a great and a terrible mistake. Hear the words in which St. Paul continues: "He that soweth in his flesh, of the flesh also shall reap corruption; but he that soweth in the spirit, of the spirit shall reap life everlasting."
"He that soweth in his flesh, of the flesh also shall reap corruption." Here is the great evil of sin, which repentance, however sincere, cannot utterly undo. True contrition will, no doubt, especially if accompanied by the Sacrament of Penance, take away the guilt of sin; but unless it be very intense, and accompanied by an extraordinary love of God, like that of the great saints, it will not, in releasing from guilt, remedy all the deformity which long-continued habits of vice have worked in the soul. Yes, sorrow may come in such an overflowing torrent as to break down and sweep away all obstacles in its path; but how often does it come so? To have such sorrow for sin is a rare and remarkable grace from God which the sinner has no right to expect.
All this is specially true, as the words of the Apostle teach us, of the sins of the flesh, such as drunken-ness and impurity. The body will hang on to sin after the soul has given it up, and will drag the soul again down with it. Oh! that those who are addicted to these horrible sensual habits would realize their danger, and feel the net which the flesh has been weaving round their spirit. But no; they go on from week to week, from month to month, making, it may be, now and then a feeble effort to escape; but too often it can be seen after each confession, though they are indeed on their feet again, that the odds against them are greater than ever, and that their weapons are dropping out of their hands.
Brethren, grace is powerful, surely; but you are much mistaken if you think it is going to destroy and make of no effect the law of nature. Rouse yourselves to the combat which is before you while there is yet time; for the time may come, and perhaps sooner than you think, when the corruption of the flesh will quench the feeble spark of contrition which God has hitherto given you, and in which lies your only hope.
Sermon CXXIV.
Sins Of Parents.
And Jesus said, Young man, I say to thee, arise.
—St. Luke viii. 14.
Many mourning parents, brethren, are represented by the poor widow of Naim, told of in this day's Gospel; and their mourning is for sons dead in mortal sin. These are indeed days of many and various vices, and our young people are far from being exempt. Blasphemy and religious indifference; neglect of prayer, Mass, and the sacraments; drunkenness and impurity; such are the plague-spots on the spiritual corpses of many of our young people.
Yet, alas! as parents raise their eyes to our Lord's gracious countenance and beg his pity, they should sometimes confess that they are not without blame for their misfortunes. Many parents spoil their children by bad example. For if they profane the name of God in the midst of their families, they need not be surprised to find that in after-years their children have no reverence for God or for his church or his sacraments. Fathers who come home smelling strong of drink, and now and then plainly intoxicated, may indeed hope to save their own souls by thorough repentance, but are likely enough to have drunkards among their children. Parents who tolerate improper language in the household, and can laugh at a double-meaning joke, and see no harm in a lascivious dance or a doubtful novel, need not be surprised to find that their daughters have lost maidenly reserve, and that their sons are given to open debauchery. Parents who neglect their Easter duty, and who easily excuse themselves from Sunday Mass, need not be surprised if their children fall quite away from the practice of religion and even from its belief.
Now, it often happens that children who have been treated too leniently while quite young are treated too severely when a little older. Too much authority should not be used with boys and girls who are some years in their teens. With them authority is at best a medicine, and not a food. To strengthen a boy's virtue, to make him love religion, to give him a bright notion of the next world and of the value of his soul, the exercise of authority is one means, but perhaps the least useful of all. In some cases authority can only do harm. To make a person who has full use of reason a good Christian it is necessary to put him in the way of intelligent instruction, by giving him good, readable religious matter, books or papers; by persuading him by such inducements as an occasional little present, and by a continual interest in his progress, to keep his place at Sunday-school; by introducing and discussing religious topics in family conversation, and by interesting him to attend sermons and lectures. Meantime let there be many kind words and much sympathetic conduct, forgetfulness of past offences, patience with natural difficulties and with youthful folly; let all this go beforehand and authority will find nothing left to do.
Brethren, do not suppose that it is always best to force one to do what he ought to do; try rather to induce him, to attract him. St. Francis de Sales says: "You can catch more flies with one drop of honey that with a barrel of vinegar"; and he also says: "For every ounce of good advice add a pound of good example."
Therefore it is that so many scolding parents end by becoming weeping parents. Parental authority, which should be merely the supremacy of all that is worthy of affection, has made home hateful and driven the children into occasions of sin—the saloon and the low theatre for the boys, the stolen interview and the common dance for the girls.
But, some one might say, what if your child has got beyond you and will be bad in spite of every best endeavor on your part—what then? Well, at any rate there is no sense in railing at him. If you can not make him better, what is the sense of making him miserable? And is not then the very time to lay him, spiritually speaking, in his coffin, and lead our Lord up to him, and, kneeling down, say: O Lord! have pity on me, for this is my dear son, dead in mortal sin? Say but the word; touch his dead soul with thy loving hand; stir him up to repentance!
Many such prayers cannot be said without producing their effect: the resurrection of your child's soul from the death of mortal sin.
Sermon CXXV.
The Law Of Charity.
Bear ye one another's burdens,
and so you shall fulfil the law of Christ.
—Epistle of the Day.
The law of Christ, dear brethren, is essentially a law of charity. "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole soul and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself." This is the whole law of Christ summed up, and it is plain that this is a law of love. But the Apostle bids us bear one another's burdens that we may fulfil this law, which, as is evident from the text just quoted, imposes upon us the love of our God and of our neighbor. How, then, will the bearing of others burdens help us to serve God better?
That we have burdens, and some of us rather heavy ones, is clear enough; and that most of us are only too willing to have some one help us to carry them will be, I think, generally agreed to. Every one has his own difficulties; every one has something which he would like to get rid of if he could, because it interferes with his comfort. Now, I do not think the Apostle wished us to suppose from his words that God would have us free each other from all suffering, since that is not possible, as we know that hardship forms a necessary part of our probation. We must expect to have something to suffer always.
But what he would have us do, it seems to me, is to help each other by counsel and material aid, to make what otherwise might be almost unbearable easier to carry. "My yoke is sweet and my burden light." This is the spirit he wishes us to strive after. It is an unselfish spirit he desires for us, such as will make us forget our own sufferings in ministering to the wants of others. He wants us to cultivate charity; to look beyond ourselves and our own interests, and take up the troubles of our brethren.
But you say to me: "I do not see what advantage there is in all this; if I take another's burden, I am but adding to my own." It is just here that our really helping each other appears. It is by this very assistance we give our neighbor that we fulfil the law of Christ, which demands suffering of us. For by our sympathizing with others and sharing in their difficulties our own burdens become lighter. If we simply took care of ourselves and were forgetful of all the rest of the world, we would chafe beneath our load; we would be so wrapped up in ourselves that nothing could persuade us that our sufferings were the very best things that could befall us.
By helping our neighbor we help ourselves. We are led to be reconciled to our lot, to expect nothing more from God for ourselves than what we see others getting. We know that they have as just a claim upon him as we, yet they have their troubles as well as we. The road to heaven is open to all, but all must take what they get as they go along, and be thankful for it and make no comparisons. All get a goodly share of what is disagreeable to nature on the way; our own portion differs only in kind and quantity from that of others.
By helping our neighbor, too, we fulfil, as the Apostle tells us, the law of Christ, for the law of Christ is charity—love towards God, love towards our fellow-man. Our stooping to our neighbor's need fosters God's love in our souls no less than love of our neighbor. It makes us go to God as our Father and recognize his justice. We perceive the necessity of mortifying our rebellious appetites and placing ourselves entirely in God's hands. How much happier, how much better Christians we would be did we but bear each other's burdens! Then we would soon learn what now seems so hard: that the yoke of Christ is indeed sweet and his burden truly light.
Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Ephesians iii. 13-21.
Brethren:
I beseech you not to be disheartened at my tribulations for you, which is your glory. For this cause I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom all paternity in heaven and earth is named, that he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with power by his Spirit unto the inward man. That Christ may dwell by faith in your hearts: that being rooted and founded in charity, you may be able to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth, and length, and height, and depth. To know also the charity of Christ, which surpasseth knowledge, that you may be filled unto all the fulness of God. Now to him who is able to do all things more abundantly than we ask or understand, according to the power which worketh in us: to him be glory in the church, and in Christ Jesus, throughout all generations, world with out end. Amen.
Gospel.
St. Luke xiv. 1-11.
At that time:
When Jesus went into the house of a certain prince of the Pharisees, on the Sabbath day, to eat bread, and they were watching him. And behold, there was a certain man before him that had the dropsy. And Jesus answering, spoke to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying: Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath day? But they held their peace. But he, taking him, healed him, and sent him away. And answering them, he said: Which of you whose ass or his ox shall fall into a pit, and will not immediately draw him out on the Sabbath day? And they could not answer him to these things. And he spoke a parable also to them that were invited, marking how they chose the first seats at the table, saying to them: When thou art invited to a wedding, sit not down in the highest place, lest perhaps one more honorable than thou be invited by him: and he who invited thee and him, come and say to thee: Give place to this man; and then thou begin with blushing to take the lowest place. But when thou art invited, go, sit down in the lowest place: that when he who invited thee cometh, he may say to thee: Friend, go up higher. Then shalt thou have glory before them that sit at table with thee. Because every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled: and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
Sermon CXXVI.
Christian Humility.
He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.
—Gospel of the Day.
As we hear these familiar words, my brethren, some of us will perhaps be inclined to say, or at least to think, that this matter of humility is just a little threadbare, so to speak; that we have already heard pretty much all that can be said about it. I dare say this is true; but when a thing is very important it has to be spoken of quite often. And humility is very important; after the love of God and of our neighbor, there is nothing more so. In fact, the difficulties in the way of loving God and our neighbor as we should, come, we may say, entirely from our inordinate love of ourselves; and this inordinate love of ourselves generally takes the shape either of pride or sensuality. In other words, pride and sensuality are the two great causes of all our sins; what wonder, then, that our Lord should warn us so frequently about them?
And the very fact that we think we have heard enough about humility shows that we are not so humble as we ought to be. If we think that we are well up in this matter, it is a good sign that we are not. Many people will say, especially when they are on their knees, "Oh! I am a miserable sinner; I am everything that is bad"; but when they get up from their knees, and look around them, you will find that they think themselves in point of fact pretty nearly as good as anybody else, and perhaps, on the whole, rather better than most people whom they know.
It is not, however, after all, about the matter of goodness that pride is most sensitive. Most Christians, unfortunately, do not try very hard to be saints, and are not very much tempted to be proud of their achievements in that direction. But almost every one considers himself tolerably well gifted in the matter of natural common sense; he thinks his brains about as good as any one else's, though he may readily admit that he has not had so great advantages as another, or, in other words, that he is "no scholar." So, to be thought or called a natural-born fool is a very hard trial for any one's humility; almost all of us, I am afraid, would rather be called a rascal. To be considered bad-looking, that again is a great mortification to some people; or to have one's birth and family despised, to be thought low and vulgar, how many can you find that will put up with that? That is the real reason why you so often hear some one find fault with somebody else for being "stuck up"; it is that when he or she is stuck up I am stuck down.
You notice, my brethren, that this matter of pride is mostly comparative, as I may say. We should not mind other people being stuck up, if we could only be stuck up too. And it is just here on this tender point that the parable of our Lord in to-day's Gospel touches. He says: "When thou art invited to a wedding, sit not down in the first place, lest, perhaps, one more honorable than thou be invited." This is where the shoe pinches, this admitting that some one else is more honorable than we are; especially in this country, where every one shakes hands with the President, and all are made, as far as possible, equal. Still, we can manage to admit that there are some who are better entitled to the first place than ourselves; indeed, we cannot well help that. But our Lord would have us go farther than this. He says: "Sit down in the lowest place."
That is the great lesson of humility that is so hard for us to learn. Not to say, "I am a miserable sinner; I am blind, weak, and fallible." Oh! yes, we can say that easily, because we feel that everybody else ought to say it of himself, and probably will say it. But to be ready to acknowledge, especially if the general opinion goes that way, that we are inferior to anybody else, whoever it may be that we may be compared with; to take this for granted, and not be surprised if others agree with us, this is that true humility which is exalted, not by being put in a place where it can be able to crow over others and thus be turned into pride, but by being granted the exaltation of being brought nearer to God.
Sermon CXXVII.
Vanity.
When thou art invited to a wedding,
sit not down in the highest place.
—St. Luke xiv. 8.
It is not many Sundays ago that our Lord's words taught us humility by the spectacle of the Pharisee's pride contrasted with the publican's lowliness. Yet holy church repeats the same lesson to-day by telling us what our Lord thinks of one who is vain enough to take too high a place at the wedding-feast. And indeed, brethren, it takes much teaching for us to learn the corruption of our own hearts. If there is anybody we lack close acquaintance with, it is our own very selves. If there is one book harder for us to read than any other it is the book of our own hearts. Yet in spite of this ignorance of ourselves, either before God or in comparison with our neighbor, we are always tempted to set ourselves up for something far better than we really are, and no less tempted to depreciate our neighbor.
We are too anxious to exercise the same certain judgment about relative merit in spiritual things as we fancy we can do in temporal affairs. You doubtless know the various standards of worldly preference. One person looks around at others and exclaims in his or her secret heart: With what shocking bad taste do such and such ones dress! They must be very vulgar indeed; surely I cannot be expected to demean myself by going in their company. Another says: There is a great deal in social standing. Let every one know his place in the world and keep it; as for me, I am certainly quite above the company of such and such persons. Another says: Brains is the standard; good clothes and social position—what are they but miserable vanity and prejudice? But I have brains; and I know it, and can show it; therefore, stand aside for me, for I am entitled to preference.
Now, brethren, what is there in the spiritual life that answers to good clothes? I will tell you: it is certain external practices of devotion. External devotions are indeed necessary for the soul just as clothes are for the body, and if used in the right spirit give one spiritual warmth and adorn the soul with interior virtues. But we must not be vain of them. And what answers in the spiritual life to the consciousness of social position? The remembrance of many years spent in God's service and the various spiritual gifts received from him. But beware of spiritual pride. And what answers to human talents and ability? Facility in prayer, glibness of speech about spiritual things, knowledge of devotional books, and the like. And these may be made a cause of vanity.
So when our Lord looks in among the guests at his spiritual table we may well imagine his saying to one or other of us: Friend, I perceive that you have been trusting a trifle too much to certain external practices; they are very good in themselves, but should be joined to a deeper and truer contrition for your sins and a more practical use of penance and mortification. I am sorry to make you blush, but really you must step down a few seats lower. To another he says: Friend, you are in the wrong place; I know that you have received many graces from me in the past, but I also notice a great want of gratitude on your part; besides this, I see from your present disposition of mind that, if you are left where you are, you are likely to be quite puffed up with vanity. So I will set you down a little lower to a place opposite a good dish of thanksgiving and an other of humility. To another he says: What are you doing there, you who are so fault-finding and overbearing? Do you trust to your knowledge of spiritual things and your pious talk? Your religion consists of words, words, words, and what I want is deeds. So, down with you to the last place at the table; and if I had any place lower than the last you should certainly have it.
Brethren, let us be glad to sit down anywhere at our Lord's banquet; glad of so much as the crumbs from the table. That is to say, the friendship of God is too precious a thing, and too much all his own to give, that we should presume to glory in it. Humility, detachment from our own excellence, willingness to think poorly of our own merits—such are the virtues that underlie all true piety.
Sermon CXXVIII.
Behavior In Church.
And he spoke a parable also to them that were invited,
marking how they chose the first seats at the table.
—Gospel of the Day.
Our Blessed Saviour in this day's Gospel teaches us a lesson of good order and practical conduct which may be applied in many ways. I will make the application of it this morning to our conduct in church. We will consider the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the great feast to which we are invited, the church the banquet-hall, and the pews the places set apart for the guests.
There is nothing more conducive to the pleasure and purpose of an assemblage than the good order and proper arrangement of everything connected with it, and we often hear persons speak of some event in which they participated as being most enjoyable because everything was so well ordered and arranged. Now, all this applies with double force to the public services of religion. Catholics greatly enjoy the public services of the church when every is well ordered and arranged, and there is nothing to distract them or jar upon them. For at every service there is the divine presence, and where perfect order reigns it soon makes itself felt: its calm peace steals in upon the soul, it communes sweetly, and worships "in spirit and in truth."
But in order to secure an external condition of things in our churches so essential to recollection and prayer, each one must know his place and occupy it without delay or confusion, and in our present system of church arrangement each worshipper is supposed to have his or her special place assigned, and the regular seat in the church has become a requirement of devotion as well as a necessity of church finance.
Hence, to secure a permanent place in the church is a duty of devotion as well as something of an obligation; and we find that truly pious Catholics almost invariably try to secure seats in their parish churches, be they ever so humble. Indeed, Catholics who fail to do this are not apt to be very steady in the practice of their religion; and there can be no doubt as to the neglect of duty in the case. To contribute to the support of religion is as much a positive law of the church as to attend Mass on Sundays, and the ordinary revenue for the support of religion comes from the pew-rents. We insist, therefore, that every Catholic who can possibly afford it should have his seat in church; good order requires this as well as duty and devotion. It is a poor business to be all the while occupying other people's pews, and sometimes, perhaps, be required to vacate them. Pew-holders have their rights, and they must be protected in them. Nevertheless, to secure good order and harmony at the services of the church, pew-holders must be willing at times to waive their rights and allow strangers and others to occupy the vacant seats in their pews. This is no more than politeness and common Christian charity demand. To refuse a vacant seat in church to a stranger is selfishness gone to seed, and they are few, I hope, who would be guilty of such vulgarity.
But while all who possibly can should have their regular places in church, there will, no doubt, always be a very considerable number who, through poverty or perverseness, will be pew-holders at large, and to them I would also address a few remarks. The Catholic Church is the church of the poor! This is our glory and our pride. No one can be too poor to attend the services of the Catholic Church. God is no respecter of persons, nor is his church. The poor are always welcome in her grandest temples, and none should ever miss a single service of religion because they are too poor to hire a regular seat. In this church, thank God, everything is free to them, and there are always vacant seats for them to occupy. We not only wish non-pew-holders to occupy the vacant seats in our church, but we insist on their occupying them, for the good order and harmony of the services require that, as far as possible, all should be seated. The only condition we impose is the Gospel injunction: "Do not sit down in the first place" or in the place of another; and if you are told to move up higher, do not refuse. Crowding around the doors is more objectionable than anything else, for there is nothing else that interferes so much with the good order and arrangement of the services. Let me repeat, then, in conclusion, the words of the parable: "Friend, go up higher," and don't crowd around the doors.
Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Ephesians iv. 1-6.
Brethren:
As a prisoner in the Lord, I beseech you that you walk worthy of the vocation in which you are called, with all humility and mildness, with patience, supporting one another in charity, careful to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. One body and one Spirit: as you are called in one hope of your vocation. One Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all, who is blessed for ever and ever.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxii. 35-46.
At that time the Pharisees came nigh to Jesus: and one of them, a doctor of the law, asked him, tempting him: Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said to him: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. And the second is like to this: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On, these two commandments dependeth the whole law and the prophets. And the Pharisees being gathered together, Jesus asked them saying: What think you of Christ? Whose son is he? They say to him: David's. He saith to them: How then doth David in spirit call him Lord, saying: "The Lord said to my Lord: Sit on my right hand, until I make thy enemies thy footstool"? If David then called him Lord, how is he his son? And no man was able to answer him a word: neither durst any man from that day forth ask him any more questions.
Sermon CXXIX.
Prayer For Sinners.
And the other is like unto this:
Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.
—St. Matthew. xxii. 39.
How great must be the dignity of human nature, my brethren, since, as we learn by this day's Gospel, our Lord couples the love of his fellow-men with the love of his own sovereign and divine self! Perhaps if we appreciated the native worth of human nature we should be a trifle more patient with its faults. I mean, of course, other people's faults, for with our own faults we are all too patient.
The practical lesson conveyed by the commandment, "Love thy neighbor as thyself," is that it is our duty to love sinners and to pray for them. To love good people is easy enough, and we think a man a kind of a monster who has not at least one or two dear friends whose virtues have won his love. But it takes a good Christian to love what at first sight seems so hateful—a drunkard, a libertine, an apostate, a bully, a thief. To have an actual, practical affection for such persons, even when one is related to them, seems quite a special thing—a peculiar vocation, a side-path in the spiritual life, and not by any means the common business and regular vocation of every-day Christians. Yet a moment's thought shows that it is, without any doubt, our Lord's blessed will that we should have a special affection for just such hardened sinners. Are they not men, and are they not purchased by the Blood of Christ?
How much we mistake our duty in reference to such poor wretches! When you say of one, "Oh! he is a most worthless creature," how surprised you would be if you could hear a whisper coming from his guardian angel: "Jesus Christ thought him worth dying for." And when you say of another, "Oh! I can't bear him; I can't stay a moment in his company," how surprised you would be to hear, "And I, an angel of God, I gladly keep him company day and night." Surely, brethren, there is something worth loving, heartily loving, in a soul that our Lord would die for, and to whom God would give a bright angel as a constant companion. We are like men going through a picture-gallery: we admire only the brilliant and unmistakable beauties displayed there—here a gorgeous sunset, there a fine battle-scene, and again a ship tossing upon the waves. But one of better taste than common, without forgetting all these, will be able to detect the work of a great master, though faded with the lapse of many years and covered all over with dust. So it is with the poor sinner's soul: it is the work of a great master. And what though it be all stained and spotted with mortal sin; is there no such thing as true repentance? Are there no fountains of living waters in the sacraments in which it may be washed whiter than snow? Are there no gems of divine grace with which it may be decked out as a bride waiting for the bridegroom?
Prayer for the conversion of sinners should be far more practised than it is. Why, brethren, look around you in this great city, and if you can count the stars of heaven or the sands of the sea-shore you can count the men and women in mortal sin; and, alas! very many of them belong to our religion. Nay, look about in your own families. How seldom will a family be found where there is not at least one member living openly at enmity with God! Now, just here, in the midst of the worst wickedness, are many thousands of devout servants of God, and in every family one or two souls whose very names might be Faithful and True. And God arranges this mingling of good and evil, that the good souls by their prayers may save the bad ones from eternal death; just as in southern countries men plant eucalyptus-trees in low, marshy places, for the eucalyptus, with its fragrant leaves, counteracts the poisonous vapors of the swamp.
If, therefore, you pray for yourself you do well; but do not forget that, if you are a true Christian, the poor sinner is your other self. And if you pray for the souls in purgatory, do not forget that there are many souls about you who are always in danger of hell, and unless many prayers are offered for them they are likely enough to be lost for ever.
Sermon CXXX.
The Christian Vocation.
I beseech you to walk worthy of your vocation
in which you are called.
—Epistle of the Day.
In the Gospel our Lord says that the perfect love of God and of our neighbor fulfils all the law and the commands of God through the prophets. At another time he said: "Be ye perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect." It is plain that every Christian has a vocation—that is, is called to a Christ like, a God like life. Something more is expected of him because he has received infused light to know by divine grace how to do more. In general, we call that a higher, a more exalted spiritual state. Now, there are degrees even in this depending upon the particular grace it pleases God to give to one person or another.
One star differeth from another star in brightness and glory, and so shall the glory of the Christians differ in heaven, according to the perfection to which they have brought their souls while in this school-time of the world-life. Over and above what are called strict Christian laws, which one must obey or lose heaven, there are certain principles of Christianity called Evangelical counsels—namely, poverty, chastity, and obedience. Some folks fancy these counsels apply only to monks, nuns, and priests. That is a great mistake. Monks, nuns, and priests receive grace and are bound by their vocation to practise these counsels in a high degree, and yet not even all these in the same manner. A secular priest, for instance, is not called to practise poverty in the same manner as a priest of a religious order, although he or even a layman living in the world may practise that counsel, as he may the other counsels, too, just as perfectly as any monk ever heard of. All depends on the grace one has. His vocation and his responsibility and his position in heaven all hang on his fidelity to grace.
All Christians should practise the counsel of poverty. Yes, both rich and poor. The spirit of poverty is detachment from created things. One's heart must not be set on them. One must not love riches for their own sake. One must feel obliged to share with the poor. One must not despise the poor, but love them for Christ's sake. One must give a good deal for religious purposes. One must keep his baptismal vows to renounce the devil and all his pomps. One must, therefore, deny himself in many things that savor of the pride of riches, even if he is rich. Why? Not because he is a monk, nun, or priest, but because he is a Christian.
Every Christian must practise the counsel of chastity. Heaven help us! In these degraded times, to judge by the fashionable indecencies sanctioned by so-called society people—the horrible abuses of the holy state of marriage, the filthy accounts appearing every day in the newspapers—one would think that even the Sixth Commandment was abolished. Now I need not enter into particulars, but you know, without further argument or illustration, that every Christian man, woman, and child would be unworthy the name if they did not, almost every day, make many sacrifices and struggles against temptation—all of which mean practising the counsel of the Christian perfection of chastity.
So also of obedience. One must obey the Ten Commandments and the laws of the church. Oh! yes. And have we not also to obey the special decrees of the Holy Father, of our bishop, and of our pastor? What sort of a Christian is he who is his own shepherd, or one who is always "standing up for his own rights," as they say, submitting just within law and only when he cannot help himself? And does Christian humility mean nothing in act? That is a narrow road of obedience and a long one, as you all know; and blessed is he who joyfully walks therein. Instead of wanting to shirk these counsels, and put all upon the shoulders of religious, every one ought to be praying hard that God will, of his divine bounty, give us, too, men and women living in the world, more and more grace to practise all that our worldly condition will allow us to do, convinced by faith that he is most truly happy here, as he will certainly be hereafter, who is filled with high Christian aspirations, striving to "walk worthy of his vocation" and realize in himself the picture of a perfect Christ-like life.
Sermon CXXXI.
Erroneous Views Of Vocation.
As a prisoner in the Lord,
I beseech you that you walk
worthy of the vocation in which you are called.
—Ephesians iv. 1.
Brethren, has it ever occurred to you that each one of us has a vocation in this life? I refer not to our Christian vocation, which we all have in common, but to the particular state of life to which each one of us has been called. It is not an uncommon error for people to think that priests and nuns are the only privileged mortals who are called by God to some special work, and that to their vocation alone God has attached peculiar and extraordinary graces.
This is an error we must correct. We have all, thank God, the vocation to be Christians and the call to be saints, but we have, moreover, our own special calling, suitable to our character and disposition; and our common Christian vocation, and in a great measure our eternal salvation, depends on our fulfilling worthily the particular vocation in which we are called.
Some of us God has called to be priests, to serve continually at his altar. Some to be fathers of families, and others to remain single all their life. Some he has called to the higher professions, and others to the hard but manly toil of every-day life. But to all these vocations, to all these different states of life, he has attached certain duties, peculiar obligations, which must be met and fulfilled.
The great danger, brethren, that we have to avoid is the common and stupid error of those who hold that their every-day vocation has nothing to do with this Sunday calling; that there is little, if any, connection between their own special calling and their general calling to be Christians; who maintain that as business men they can and must act in their own business-like way, banishing God from their hearts and his law from their lives, at least during their hours of business.
This error, stupid as it is, is not so uncommon as one might at first imagine. Take a few practical cases. How many are there who, when they examine their conscience, ever think of questioning themselves upon the duties of their position in life? How many fathers of families, listening to these words to-day, question themselves daily as to how they govern those whom God has put under their charge; how they watch and provide for the spiritual and temporal welfare of those whom they are called upon to support? How many young men ever think of asking themselves how they have fulfilled the obligations they are under to parents, now perhaps unable to take care of themselves? How many business-men question themselves as to the honesty or propriety of this or that mode of action they have been following? Alas! they are few indeed. And this is the practical outcome of not recognizing the close connection there is between our every-day calling and our Christian vocation. As every vocation, brethren, has its duties and its difficulties, so every calling has its special helps and graces. God saw each one of us from all eternity—just as we are to-day, with all the weaknesses of our character, with all the difficulties that surround us, and all the temptations with which we have to contend. He foresaw all these things and provided for them, regulating his helps and graces according to our wants, and directing all things towards our final destiny. His grace is always sufficient for us, and as long as we remain in his friendship there is no vocation or calling so difficult or trying but what can be cheerfully and manfully borne and worked towards our soul's salvation. The lot of some is certainly not an easy one, but God always fits the back for the burden.
The practical question I would have you ask yourselves to-day, brethren, is this: Granted that I have a vocation in this life; granted that Providence has placed me in a position that involves duties and obligations to God, my neighbor, or myself; how am I fulfilling these obligations? How am I walking in the vocation in which I am called? Worthily or unworthily—that is the all-important question for me to answer to-day to the satisfaction of my conscience, as I will have to answer it one day to Almighty God.
Am I the father or mother of a family? If so, do I discharge the duties of my calling? Do I make my home pleasant and agreeable for my children? Do I supply them with suitable home amusements? Do I furnish them proper reading matter, or do I allow them to waste their time and ruin their souls with the vile penny literature of the day? Do I oblige them to come to Mass and approach the sacraments, while I neglect these duties myself? Or am I a business-man who deals squarely and honestly with my neighbors, never on the alert to take advantage of the ignorant and weak? Am I in the employment of others, and, if so, do I fulfil my calling worthily by doing all that strict justice or Christian charity requires of me? Or am I just to men who work for me? These are some of the questions regarding your vocations that I would have you ask yourselves to-day.
Brethren, when we come to render our account to God, be sure of this: he will not trouble us with the question as to whether we have been experts in our respective professions, whether we have been successful business-men or skilled mechanics; no, but whether we have been just and honorable, whether we have walked worthily in the vocations to which we have been called. Walk then, brethren, worthy of your vocation, worthy of the church which has reared you, worthy of the hope that is in you, worthy of the name you bear, that of Christ, who has redeemed you. Imitate him, live as he lived, and suffer in your calling the things he suffered. Then the prayer of our patron St. Paul will not be in vain, and we will walk worthy of the vocation in which we are called.
Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
I Corinthians i. 4-8.
Brethren:
I give thanks to my God always for you, for the grace of God that is given you in Christ Jesus, that in all things you are made rich in him, in every word, and in all knowledge: as the testimony of Christ was confirmed in you: so that nothing is wanting to you in any grace, waiting for the manifestation of our Lord Jesus Christ, who also will confirm you unto the end without crime, in the day of the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Gospel.
St. Matthew ix. 1-8.
At that time:
Jesus entering into a boat, passed over the water and came into his own city. And behold they brought to him a man sick, of the palsy lying on a bed. And Jesus, seeing their faith, said to the man sick of the palsy: Son, be of good heart, thy sins are forgiven thee. And behold some of the Scribes said within themselves: This man blasphemeth. And Jesus seeing their thoughts, said: Why do you think evil in your hearts? Which is easier, to say, Thy sins are forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk? But that you may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins (then saith he to the man sick of the palsy), Rise up: take thy bed and go into thy house. And he rose up, and went into his house. And the multitude seeing it, feared, and glorified God who had given such power to men.
Sermon CXXXII.
Presumption Of God's Mercy.
Unless you have believed in vain.
1 Corinthians xv. 2.
Dear Brethren: The Apostle appears to be of a different mind from some of us, who seem to think that there is no such thing as believing in vain. Do not sinners rest quite secure in their wickedness just because they believe in the true religion? Do they not feel sure of salvation because they know how to be saved? Is not the blessed privilege of the holy faith the secret reason of many a person's delay of repentance? It is against all such that St. Paul stands when he speaks of a vain faith; and our Blessed Lord himself when he says that pagan Tyre and Sidon shall rise up in witness against those who had the true religion and used it only to puff them selves up with spiritual pride.
To be guilty of an unused faith is the high-road to eternal loss among Catholics. Some poor souls will be lost because, though born in error, they have refused to follow the light of reason into the church. But we shall be lost, if at all, because we have believed in vain. Some outside of the church shall be lost because they have sinned even against the simplest precepts of nature's law. But we shall be condemned for believing all that our Lord revealed and making it vain by our wicked deeds. A vain faith is like the background of a picture: the eye catches and dwells on the objects in the foreground, but these could not be seen clearly but for the tints in the background against which they are drawn. So what we do will one day be contrasted with what we know; the strong light of faith will only cause the black, filthy sins of our life to be more fully revealed to the Judge.
Have you never seen a blind man whose eyes seemed perfectly good, clear, and bright, and yet utterly blind? There is such a kind of blindness; some men really have eyes and see not, because the nerve is dead, and the nerve is like the soul of the eye. So with our faith: God gave it to us to see by and walk by and live by; to know his law and live up to it, to know our sins and to confess them with true sorrow—in a word, to practise what we know that we ought to practise. But some become like the idols of the nations you read of in one of the Vesper psalms: "They have eyes, and see not; they have ears, and hear not." Wicked Catholics perceive the right way; they hear of the dangers of the wrong way, and go right along with this knowledge, and neglect prayer and Mass, blaspheme and fight, get drunk and debauch, and steal, yet having all the time full assurance that somehow or other their faith will save them. Brethren, their faith is vain; their hope of eternal life is not reasonable or well founded; the beauty of the truth they possess is like the cold beauty of a corpse, which makes one shudder only the more from its incongruity with the putrid decay so surely approaching.
Yet how rich a treasure is the true faith! What a comfort to know the truths of religion! What a privilege to know our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and to be in communion with him, his Blessed Mother, his glorious saints, his holy church! What a perversity, then, to use all this as a burglar uses his rope-ladder: a means of making a criminal life more secure. But it cannot be. It is a delusion. There is no means of making a criminal life secure, except by turning quickly away from it, detesting it, confessing it, and, by the light of faith and the strength of charity, leading a good life.
Sermon CXXXIII.
Drunkenness.
Take heed to yourselves,
lest perhaps your hearts be over charged
with surfeiting and drunkenness,
and the cares of this life.
—Luke xxi. 34.
These words of our Lord recorded by St. Luke contain a very direct admonition against intemperance and its associate vices. Gluttony and drunkenness are closely allied, inasmuch as the former is generally associated with excessive eating, and the latter is used to denote excess in intoxicating drink. Not only from a religious standpoint, but from medical science, St. Luke knew and could teach the injurious effects on the human system produced by the unrestrained gratification of the appetites. His knowledge in these matters was evidently recognized by those associated with him in preaching the Gospel, for St. Paul speaks of him as "the beloved physician" (Colossians iv. 14).
There are many passages of Holy Scripture that show forth the dangers of drunkenness. In the Old Testament we read that Noe and Lot were both taught by sad experience the shame and degradation arising from the loss of self-control through the excessive use of intoxicating drinks. No sanction can, be found in the Bible for the opinion that intemperance is a pardonable weakness. It is a very long time ago, indeed, since this vice of drunkenness was first condemned by the authorized teachers of religion. Among the vices it is properly classified with gluttony, which is one of the seven deadly sins.
The Apostles sent forth by our Lord to teach all nations strenuously inculcated the duty of sobriety and watchfulness on each individual Christian. St. Peter and St. Paul especially insist on this personal vigilance as being of the utmost importance. "Being sober, hope perfectly for that grace which is offered you at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Be sober and watch, because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring lion goeth about, seeking whom he may devour" (First Epistle of St. Peter v. 8-13).
St. Paul teaches the same lesson of personal vigilance in these words: "Let us watch and be sober, having on the breastplate of faith and charity, and for a helmet the hope of salvation" (1 Thessalonians v. 6-8). "For the grace of God our Saviour hath appeared to all men, instructing us that, renouncing impiety and worldly desires, we should live soberly, and justly, and piously in this world" (Titus ii. 3).
A great doctor of the church, St. Augustine, in the fourth century declared that there were at that time drunkards, plenty of them, and that people had grown accustomed to speak of drunkenness, not only without horror, but even with levity. This condition of things was brought about by the vicious teaching of the pagans, who sanctioned every form of sensual gratification. In one of his sermons St. Augustine uses these words: "The heart of the drunkard has lost all feeling. When a member has no feeling it may be considered dead and cut off from the body. Yet we sometimes are lenient, and can only employ words. We are loath to excommunicate and cast out of the church; for we fear lest he who is chastised should be made worse by the chastisement. And though such are already dead in soul, yet, since our Physician is Almighty, we must not despair of them."
Again in a letter to a bishop, written in the year 393, St. Augustine refers to the intemperance then prevalent in the city of Carthage. "The pestilence," he says, "is of such a magnitude that it seems to me it cannot be cured except by the authority of a council. Or, at least, if one church must begin, it should be that of Carthage. It would seem like audacity to try to change what Carthage retains." Then he proceeds to urge that the movement against intemperance be conducted in the spirit of meekness, saying: "I think that these abuses must be removed, not imperiously, nor harshly; by instruction rather than by command, by persuasion rather than by threats. It is thus one must act in a multitude: we may be severe towards the sins of a few."
From the words just quoted we see that St. Augustine was justly opposed to the indiscriminate condemnation of a multitude for the sins of a few. And it is very necessary to bear this in mind while dealing with the vice of intemperance, which is so widely prevalent at the present time. The crimes of drunkards are frequently exposed to view in the columns of newspapers, yet the unvarnished truth is seldom stated concerning those who co-operate with them in the nine ways of being accessory to another's sin; and this means especially those who, in cities infected with intemperance, keep saloons, and those who invite men to drink whom they have reason to fear will abuse it. We know that there are leaders in the ways of vice as well as in the ways of virtue. Special severity is needed with those who deliberately persist in doing wrong with malice aforethought. Men who strive to make laws to defend iniquity, who teach and foster vice for their own personal profit, may properly be called blind leaders of the blind, whose fate has already been predicted by our Lord, the Supreme Judge of the world.
Sermon CXXXIV.
The Dignity And Happiness Of Obedience.
Children, obey your parents in all things;
for this is pleasing to the Lord.
—Colossians iii. 20.
Brethren, there are many new things found out nowadays; but there are also some old ones and good ones being forgotten. Among other things we are apt to forget the happiness of obedience. Of course I do not mean obedience to the church; perhaps there never was an age when Catholics rested so content in the gentle restraint of our holy mother the Church. But I refer to the practice of obedience one to another, done after the pattern of our Lord Jesus Christ. The loveliness of this virtue is best seen in the bosom of the Christian family. Affection, indeed, is the bond of the family, but the fruit of affection is obedience. There is nothing more pleasing to God than the son who is always at the service of his father and mother. Few families are without at least one such son. He is often the one of whom at first the least was expected; of poor natural talents, of delicate health, of irascible temper, or one whose earlier years were wayward. But all the time he was observant, though no one, not even himself, gave him credit for it. Year by year the spectacle of father's and mother's affection and sacrifice penetrated him, till he became deeply attached to them. How much this reverent love for his parents had to do with his religious state as a boy and a young man! It may be true that scarcely any boy ever grows up to be a man and is never a liar to his father and mother, or a pilferer of cake and fruit and pennies about the house. But the good boy drops all this at First Communion or when he goes to learn a trade, and he becomes honest and truthful in little things as well as great. One of the happiest days for him between the cradle and the grave is when he runs and puts the first dollar he has earned into his mother's hands. That good son lets all his brothers go away from home to seek their fortunes; he stays with the old folks, comforts their old age, closes their eyes in death, and with much love and many tears follows them with his prayers beyond the grave. The others were, perhaps, good children, but he is the hero of the family.
Then there is the good daughter, who in childhood is the sunshine of the family, and in maturer years everybody's other self. How many parents, too poor to hire a servant, have living riches in an industrious daughter! How often do parents find one at least of the girls who from very infancy is the joy of the whole family; who seems to have received in baptism such a fulness of the Holy Spirit that charity, joy, peace, patience, long suffering, kindness, and piety are the common qualities of her character! The faith also finds an apostle in such women. An intelligent woman, though perhaps unable to argue skilfully, can establish the truths of religion by methods all her own. A friendly jest, good-natured silence, a patient return of loving services for ill-treatment, the spectacle of her good life, not an hour of which lacks a virtue—all this in one instinct with religion is an unanswerable argument and often irresistible. How did it happen, people sometimes ask concerning this or that person, that she did not marry? She had good enough looks, excellent sense, a bright mind, affectionate disposition, and saw plenty of company. Why did she not marry? My brethren, the day of judgment will tell us that it was because God had set her apart that she might be for her widowed mother or her shiftless, unhappy brothers and sisters the pot of meal that should not waste and the cruse of oil that should not diminish. Brethren, I know of no order of nuns more pleasing in God's sight than the devout women who live a dependent, obscure, hard life in the world, and are old maids for the love of God.
Finally, you may say that such sons and daughters are hard to find. I answer that there are multitudes who approach the standard we have been considering, and more, perhaps, than you fancy who actually attain to it.
Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Ephesians iv. 23-28.
Brethren:
Be ye renewed in the spirit of your mind: and put on the new man, who, according to God, is created in justice, and holiness of truth. Wherefore, putting away lying, speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor: for we are members one of another. Be angry, and sin not. Let not the sun go down upon your anger: Give not place to the devil. Let him that stole, steal now no more, but rather let him labor, working with his hands that which is good, that he may have to give to him who is in need.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxii. 2-14.
At that time Jesus spoke to the chief priests and Pharisees in parables, saying:
The kingdom of heaven is like to a man being a king, who made a marriage for his son. And he sent his servants to call them that were invited to the marriage: and they would not come. Again he sent other servants, saying: Tell them that were invited: Behold, I have prepared my dinner; my beeves and fatlings are killed, and all things are ready: come ye to the wedding. But they neglected, and went their ways, one to his farm, and another to his merchandise. And the rest laid hands on his servants, and, having treated them contumeliously, put them to death. But when the king heard of it he was angry, and, sending his armies, he destroyed those murderers and burnt their city. Then he saith to his servants: The wedding indeed is ready; but they that were invited were not worthy. Go ye therefore into the highways, and as many as you shall find, invite to the wedding. And his servants going out into the highways, gathered together all that they found, both bad and good: and the wedding was filled with guests. And the king went in to see the guests, and he saw there a man who had not on a wedding garment. And he saith to him: Friend, how camest thou in hither not having a wedding garment? But he was silent. Then the king said to the waiters: Having bound his hands and feet, cast him into the exterior darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen.
Sermon CXXXV.
Lying.
Wherefore, putting away lying,
speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor.
—Epistle of the Day.
Of all the vicious habits into which we are prone to fall, there is none more common, and none more miserable, mean, and contemptible, than this one of which the Apostle here speaks. There is also none about which Christians in general have so lax and careless a conscience. True, every one regards lying as in some sense at least sinful; and many would hesitate about going to Holy Communion if they had told a lie after confession. But in spite of that, when the Communion is once made, the tongue which has just received the God of justice and truth will immediately begin again to offend him by telling falsehoods which are too often unjust as well as untrue.
Still, when there is an injustice done by telling a lie; when some one else suffers by it in his character or his goods, there are, I hope, few who do not see what a sin they have committed, and understand that they must make reparation by taking back what they have said, if they wish to be good Christians. But, for all that, how many injurious lies are told, even by those who think themselves good Christians, and never properly retracted or even thought of afterward by those who tell them! The most abominable slanders pass from mouth to mouth; they are listened to and repeated with the greatest interest and eagerness, without any trouble being taken to ascertain whether what is said is true or not. These people who are so free with their tongues never seem to imagine for a moment that, even when circumstances would justify them—and it is very seldom that they do—in telling a fact bearing against their neighbor they are under an obligation first to find out by careful examination whether it be indeed a fact; otherwise the sin of an injurious lie will rest on their souls.
There are, however, some, and indeed many, who abhor slander, and who are really careful about telling injurious lies, and who hasten to retract what they have said against others, if they find out that, after all, the fact was not as they had good ground to believe. But there are not by any means so many who are careful about the truth for its own sake, and who do not scruple to tell white lies, as they are sometimes called.
What are these white lies? They are of two kinds. The first are those which are told for some end in itself good, to get some advantage for one's self or for another, or to get one's self or some other person out of a scrape; to conceal a fault, to avoid embarrassment, or to save somebody's feelings. These are called officious lies. Then there are others, called, jocose, which do no good to any one, but are told merely for fun; such as the little tricks on others which are often indulged in, or boasts made about things which one has never done. They may be taken back before long, and only meant to deceive for a moment; still they are meant to deceive, if only for a moment, and are, therefore, really lies.
Now officious lies are really forbidden by God's law as well as injurious ones, though of course not so bad as those. And yet how few act as if they really were sins at all! People will say, "I told lies, perhaps three or four every day, but there was no harm in them." No harm! No harm to other people; no, perhaps not, except by bad example and the loss of confidence in your word and that of others; though there is great harm even in that way. But there is a greater harm than this: it is that which the liar does to the sacredness of truth itself, and, as far as he can, to God who is the eternal truth, who loves truth unspeakably, and requires that we should love it for his sake. He will not allow us to tell the most trivial falsehood, though by it we could save the whole world from destruction, or bring all the souls which have been damned out of hell and put them in heaven.
Remember this, then: there are lies which are not injurious, but there are no lies which are not harmful and sinful; no lies for which you will not have to give an account at the judgment of God. Stop, therefore, I beg you at once, this mean, disgraceful, and dishonorable habit of falsehood; it will never be forgiven in confession unless you make a serious and solid purpose against it. Put away lying then at once and for ever, and speak the truth in simplicity; you may sometimes lose by it for the moment, but you will profit by it in the end, both in this world and in the world to come.
Sermon CXXXVI.
Truthfulness.
Wherefore, putting away lying,
speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor,
for we are members one of another.
—Ephesians iv. 25.
St. Paul here teaches us that truthfulness of speech should be a mark of those who profess the true faith. He speaks of the darkness of understanding, the ignorance, the blindness of heart of those who are alienated from the life of God; "but you," he says, "have not so learned Christ. You have been taught the truth as it is in Jesus. You have been taught to put off the old man who is corrupted according to the desires of error, and to put on the new man, who, according to God, is created in justice and holiness of truth: wherefore, putting away lying, speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor, for we are members one of another."
Yet, even without these supernatural reasons and motives, the duty of truthfulness is plain to everyone by the light of natural reason alone. The gift of speech which so strongly marks the distinction between man and the lower animals enables us to clearly communicate our thoughts to each other. If, then, we make it a means of deceiving others, we plainly offend against the law of nature, which is God's law. In every relation of life we are obliged to depend upon the statements of other men; we have a right to the truth from them, and it is therefore our duty to tell the truth to others. We can have no feeling of security if we cannot trust the word of those with whom we are brought into daily contact. If lying is common in any class or community, it creates a spirit of distrust and uneasiness instead of that mutual confidence which should prevail.
A high sense of honor in men of the world will often make them strictly truthful. Such men despise a lie as something base and mean and utterly beneath them. If, then, purely human motives, a mere sense of worldly honor, will keep men from lying, how much more should this fault be avoided by those who claim to be trying to serve God, and who are constantly assisted by his grace. Our Lord has told us that liars are the children of the devil, "for he is a liar and the father thereof." But we are called to be the children of God, who is the eternal truth; we have been given the light of the true faith. We glory in the certain truth of our religion; should we not then be zealous for the cause of truth in all things, even in the least. Absolute, unswerving truthfulness in speech should therefore mark the true disciple of Christ.
"But," some may say, "a lie is only a venial sin." Yes, it is true that a lie which is not malicious, which does not, and is not intended to, harm our neighbor in any way, is not a mortal sin; but it is the meanest of venial sins, and we know that a long and terrible purgatory awaits those who are guilty of deliberate venial sin. Moreover, carelessness about the commission of venial sin leads to mortal offences, and there is nothing which will more readily lead a man into other and graver faults as the habit of deliberate untruthfulness.
Cultivate, then, a love for truth, and seek to acquire the habit of truthfulness even in the smallest matters. Every one despises a deceitful person, and there is nothing a man resents so much as being called a liar. If you do not like being called a liar, do not be one.
Sermon CXXXVII.
White Lies.
Wherefore, putting away lying,
speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor.
—Epistle of the Day.
There is perhaps no sin, my brethren, for which people seem to have so little real sorrow, or for which they so seldom make a practical purpose of amendment, as this miserable one of falsehood, of which the Apostle here speaks. You will hear it said: "I told lies, but there was no harm in them; they were to excuse myself, or to save trouble." They are matters to be confessed, oh! yes; the liar will perhaps even run back to say that he is a liar, if he (or quite likely she) has forgotten to mention it at the time. But as for correcting the habit, that is quite another matter. It would seem that the Sacrament of Penance is expected to take effect on these sins by mere confession, without contrition or purpose to avoid them for the future.
But the liar will say: "I am sorry; I have contrition for these lies." Let me ask, however, what kind of sorrow have you? You are sorry that things were so that you had to tell a lie; but if things were so again to-morrow, would not you tell the lie again? If you are sincere, I am afraid you will say: "Yes, I suppose I should." Where, then, is the purpose of amendment? Without purpose of amendment contrition is nothing but a sham.
Let us, then, my friends, look into our consciences about this matter, and get them straightened out properly. I do not want to be too harsh about it; for after all there are some expressions which people call lies, which are not really so, because the one to whom they are addressed is not expected to be deceived by them, but merely to be prevented from asking further questions. Some people, too, call it a lie when they do not tell the whole truth, but we are not always required—though we often are—to tell the whole truth; and when we are not, there is no lie, as long as what we say is actually true as far as it goes. But it would take too long to go into all the cases concerning what is or is not a lie; and as a general rule one can by a little common sense find them out for himself. Find them out, then; if you cannot surely do so by yourselves, get advice; and when you are certain that you are all right, do not call it a sin to act according to your conscience and reason, and do not make a matter of self-accusation out of it.
But when you cannot see any way to make out that what you say really is not a lie, then do not fall back on the idea that, if it does not injure anybody, there is no harm in it. You are false to yourself in this; for you know there is harm in it, otherwise you would not feel uneasy about it.
And what is the harm? The harm in a lie is simply that it is a lie, and therefore an offence against God, who is the truth. This is what St. Paul tells us in this very Epistle of to-day. "Put on," he says, "the new man, who, according to God, is created in justice and holiness of truth. Wherefore," he continues, "putting away lying, speak ye the truth every man with his neighbor."
Yes, my brethren, God is the truth, and he infinitely loves the truth, in himself and in his creatures. He does not wish us to sacrifice it in the slightest degree, even to save the whole world from destruction. There is harm in a lie, then; harm, if I may say so, to God himself and to his dearest interests. Do not think, then, to save his interests, or any one else's, by lying. Tell the truth and let him look out for the consequences. Tell the truth for God's sake, because he loves it, and hates a lie; tell the truth, and love the truth, for its own sake. We are, as St. Paul says, "created according to God, in holiness of truth"; let us keep the pattern to which we have been made.
Stop, then, deliberate lying for a purpose, which is but too common. But also be careful in what you say; try not even to fall into falsehood thoughtlessly. Let it be your honest pride that your word is as good as your oath.
Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Ephesians v. 15-21.
See, brethren, how you walk circumspectly: not as unwise, but as wise: redeeming the time, for the days are evil. Wherefore become not unwise, but understanding what is the will of God. And be not drunk with wine, wherein is luxury, but be ye filled with the Holy Spirit. Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns, and spiritual canticles, singing and making melody in your hearts to the Lord: giving thanks always for all things, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, to God and the Father: being subject one to another in the fear of Christ.
Gospel.
St. John iv. 46-53.
At that time:
There was a certain ruler whose son was sick at Capharnaum. He having heard that Jesus was come from Judea into Galilee, went to him, and prayed him to come down and heal his son, for he was at the point of death. Then Jesus said to him: Unless you see signs and wonders, you believe not. The ruler saith to him: Sir, come down before that my son die. Jesus saith to him: Go thy way, thy son liveth. The man believed the word which Jesus said to him, and went his way. And as he was going down, his servants met him: and they brought word, saying that his son lived. He asked therefore of them the hour wherein he grew better. And they said to him: Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him. The father therefore knew that it was at the same hour that Jesus said to him, Thy son liveth; and himself believed, and his whole house.
Sermon CXXXVIII.
Christian Marriage.
My dear brethren, we shall, on this occasion, occupy the short time allotted to us with some remarks on a most important subject, namely, that of Christian marriage. We ask for your especial attention to what we have to say on this matter, on account of the great bearing which it has on your happiness both here and hereafter, and hope that you will endeavor to understand thoroughly the teaching of the church regarding it, and that you will resolve not only to obey the laws, but also to follow her suggestions and be governed by her spirit in an affair in which your welfare is so deeply concerned.
The great majority of Christians, as well as of the world in general, are called in the providence of God to the state of marriage; and their calling is as truly a divine vocation as that of others to the religious life and to the priesthood. If, then, the priest or the religious cannot expect to save his soul if he neglects the virtues and the duties proper to his state, neither can those who enter the state of matrimony, if they do not appreciate and endeavor to fulfil the requirements and conditions which God has attached to it; if they rush into it without thought, and remain in it simply from convenience or necessity, without realizing its responsibilities or feeling the burden which it imposes on their consciences.
And yet this is what very many seem to do. Of course we take it for granted that a Catholic, worthy the name, will not marry a person of a different religion. But one should not marry a bad Catholic. Many appear to be indifferent in this matter to their eternal salvation and act as if conscience and religion had nothing to do with it, but they disregard and fling to the winds even the most common and obvious dictates of prudence as to their comfort and peace in this world. What possible hope of happiness in married life, for instance, can a young woman have who unites her destiny with that of a man who is evidently falling, if, indeed, he has not already fallen, into confirmed habits of intemperance; whose past and present life gives no assurance of advancement or worldly success, but, on the other hand, every indication of the drunkard's failure, ruin, and degradation? What can she be thinking of who, for a mere fancy or caprice, accepts the offer of one to stand as her protector and support whose selfish and beastly appetites are sure to make him soon trample her under his feet, and treat her merely as a drudge to be starved with her children in order that he may gratify his passion for drink, and to be kicked and beaten if she so much as implores him to reform? Or how can she dare to take for her husband one whose sensual passion is certain soon to extinguish every spark of true love he may have felt for her, and who will, before long, be unfaithful to her for the very reason that made him at first seem faithful?
It is painful to speak of these things; but, unfortunately, the frequency of such cases obliges us to do so. Such miseries in marriage cannot be considered, at least in cities like this, as exceptional and extraordinary; no, they must be taken into account, not as mere possibilities, but as actual realities. And, of course, there are others which we have not time to enumerate; the ones of which I have spoken will serve as examples. It is, then, the part not only of Christian prudence but also of worldly common sense, to make sure, as far as possible, to avoid these dangers. It is far better to remain single than to make a bad marriage; let every one, then, before taking this most important of all steps in life, look carefully where it will lead. Let every one, and certainly every Christian, before selecting a companion for life, whose place no one else can take, satisfy himself or herself that the one who is thus selected has the qualities that are calculated to insure happiness to both parties; that he or she has natural virtues and good habits, well and solidly formed; at least industry, sobriety, and those qualities in general which business-men, for example, try to secure in those who are to be charged with matters of far less consequence than the support and care of a family.
Sermon CXXXIX.
Mortification Of Our Lower Nature.
Now if we be dead with Christ
we believe that we shall live also together with Christ.
—From the Epistle of the Sunday.
The meaning of the Apostle, my brethren, is expressed in one great Catholic word—mortification. The lower nature that is in us must be put to death that the higher may live. The animal must die that the man may live. And if literal death be not hereby signified, yet so really destructive of mere appetite is the Christian's union with Christ that mortification or putting to death is one condition of obtaining it. Human ease and pleasure are opposed to the soul's fulfilment of its destiny. In itself no doubt the natural joy of this life is not evil. But there is no joy of man simply "in itself." It all flows from that root of bitterness which original sin planted in our hearts, and which makes it necessary that we be not simply obedient to God's law, but "born again"; "for," says the Apostle in this same Sunday's Epistle, "we are buried together with Christ by baptism into death, that as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life." "Knowing this: that our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin may be destroyed." "For he that is dead is justified from sin."
These are very strong words, my brethren. They and the many other such words in Holy Scripture have much to do with explaining our religion—the cross on our churches, the crucifix over our altars, the shamefaced confession, the constant self-denial; even the plaintive tones of the church's voice in her chants, even the touch of sadness in her most joyful offices. Indeed, the true joy of a Christian is in the theological virtue of hope—is placed in a paradise which for him is yet to begin. He is too hardly pressed with the conflict of his higher and lower nature to be quite happy, except in anticipation of a victory never fully gained this side the grave. And it is only when the very taste for ease and pleasure has become blunted that the consolations of the Holy Spirit begin to be felt. The whole inner life of a Christian is regulated by his power to deny himself, and to deny himself, especially in outward things—in eating and drinking, in working and resting, in seeing and hearing.
To noble spirits the very innocent care of the body is irksome; and this from no sin of sloth, but because the soul, absorbed in high spiritual things, is vexed by the mean things of our animal nature. Hence the every-day business of a religious man is to restrain the headlong folly of corrupt nature by the bit and bridle of mortification. And this is every Christian's duty. Though one may feel no call but to the ordinary Christian state, yet is he plainly called to self-denial. Outside the church there is little or nothing of the practical self-restraint of the Gospel. And even among ourselves many are forgetful of this war of the spirit against the flesh, except at the rare intervals of infrequent confession or during such seasons as Lent and Advent. The need of constant self-denial is one of those truths that the ever-flowing waters of forgetfulness wash out of our memories the quickest. Hence it is related of St. Philip Neri that he was accustomed to say in the morning: "Lord, keep thy hand upon Philip to day, or, Lord! Philip will betray thee."
So, my brethren, there is no grace you have more need to pray for than the strength of will to practise some daily mortification. Nay, pray for the grace to accept those that God sends every day and it is enough. Oh! if we could bear patiently for the love of God with his own visitations, with such things as sickness of body and dulness of mind, with poverty and disappointment, with the evil temper of other members of the family, their stupidity and selfishness, we should soon be safe. Brethren, we are all novices, and God is the universal novice-master, and these are his daily mortifications. Others he gives us, too, through the ministry of holy church. Not a week passes over but we must give one day to God and to our better selves by abstinence from flesh meat. Not a season goes by but the three Ember days are set apart for hunger and thirst. Holy Advent, the penitential season of Lent, make a loud call—would it were better heeded—on our higher nature to reduce the beast to subjection. Meantime, if one wants more self-denial, let him advise with his father confessor, let him consult spiritual writers, let him hearken to the spirit of God within him, always bearing in mind that beyond such mortifications as are of obligation it is not prudent to go, except by advice of a prudent spiritual adviser.
Sermon CXL.
The Value Of Time.
Redeeming the time.
—Epistle of the Day.
There is a precious treasure, my dear brethren, which is always partly, but only partly, in our possession. Now and then we wake up to the conviction how valuable it is. There is something which must be done, and there is only just time to do it in; we wish there were more, but no, only just so much is allotted to us. Then we realize how priceless time is. The sinner, suddenly struck down by some terrible accident, and with only a few minutes to live—what would he not give for a half-hour more; for time to look into his confused and disturbed conscience; for time to rouse himself to real contrition for his sins; for time, at least, to send for a priest, and with his help make some sort of preparation for eternity!
But it is not only at the end of our lives, or in moments of such supreme importance, that we would pay for time with gold, or with other things upon which we set great value here. Often we would give much to be able to put ourselves back a day or even an hour in our lives; what an advantage it would give us! We look back on many hours and days in the past; there they were, once at our service, but now squandered and gone for ever.
Time, then, is this precious treasure, which we shall never wholly lose till we pass out of this world for ever. Its golden sands are running rapidly away from us, but still some remain. The uncertainty how much of it is still left should make us put to the best use each instant as it passes. Who would not draw prudently from a chest in which his whole fortune was locked up, if its amount were unknown to him, if the next demand might exhaust it; and who would not put to the best use each penny that he drew?
This is the instruction, the warning that the Apostle gives us in to-day's Epistle: "To walk circumspectly; not as unwise, but as wise, redeeming the time." Saving it—that is to say, not letting it slip by us idly and unprofitably; not only having it while it lasts, but receiving also the precious fruits with which it is laden.
How much this caution is needed! How careless we are about this priceless possession which is ours from moment to moment! Some part of it indeed we are generally obliged to employ, and fortunate we are that it is so, in some occupation of profit to ourselves or to others. Yes, fortunate; for that man must earn his bread by the toil of his body or mind is hardly after the fall a curse, but rather a blessing. Place fallen human nature in the paradise of our first parents, and its final loss could hardly be averted. But the rest: how often do we see, when work is over, that the only thought, even of Christians, is to get rid of this invaluable gift, the precious time which God has given them! They seem to have no thought but to lose themselves and it in some mere sensual pleasure, to fritter it away in gossip or some foolish and needless diversion, or to forget it and throw it away in slothful and unnecessary sleep.
Brethren, some day we shall want all this time that we are now wasting. Then it will stand out before us in its true value; we shall see that it should have been redeemed, and that it is now irredeemable. And what is more, God, who gave it to us, will require an account of it at our hands. He gave it to us for an object; there is not a minute of it that he did not mean us to turn to good use. And we can carry out his purpose if we only will. Let us, then, beware of idleness; even our recreation and rest should be such that we can feel that he would approve of them, and that they will help us in our remaining hours to do the work that he has required and expects us to do. To kill time—let this be a word unheard among us; to kill time is to trample down the seed of eternal life and to invite death to our souls.
Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Ephesians vi. 10-17.
Brethren:
Be strengthened in the Lord, and in the might of his power. Put you on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the snares of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood: but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places. Wherefore take unto you the armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and to stand in all things perfect. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of justice: and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace: in all things taking the shield of faith, wherewith you may be able to extinguish all the fiery darts of the most wicked one. And take unto you the helmet of salvation; and the sword of the Spirit (which is the word of God).
Gospel.
St. Matthew xviii. 23-35.
At that time Jesus spoke to his disciples this parable:
The kingdom of heaven is likened to a king, who would take an account of his servants. And when he had begun to take the account, one was brought to him that owed him ten thousand talents. And as he had not wherewith to pay it, his lord commanded that, he should be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. But that servant, falling down, besought him, saying: Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And the lord of that servant being moved with compassion, let him go, and forgave him the debt. But when that servant was gone out, he found one of his fellow-servants that owed him a hundred pence; and laying hold of him, he throttled him, saying: Pay what thou, owest. And his fellow-servant, falling down, besought him, saying: Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. Now his fellow-servants, seeing what was done, were very much grieved, and they came and told their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him, and said to him: Thou wicked servant! I forgave thee all the debt, because thou besoughtest me: shouldst not thou then have had compassion also on thy fellow-servant, even as I had compassion on thee? And his lord being angry, delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all the debt. So also shall my heavenly Father do to you, if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts.
Sermon CXLI.
Forgiveness Of Injuries.
Shouldst not thou then have had compassion
on thy fellow-servant,
even as I had compassion on thee?
—St. Matthew, xviii. 33
These words of to-day's Gospel are spoken by our Lord to every one who has been wanting in charity to his neighbor. Each one of us, as a servant of God, as a steward of the gifts, both temporal and spiritual, which he has entrusted to us that we may use them for the furtherance of his honor and glory, is a heavy debtor to the divine justice. But his mercy and love are always ready to temper his justice, if only we show the proper dispositions, if only we bend our rebellious wills to the condition he requires of us, without which it is impossible for us to obtain forgiveness. This condition is found in the oft-repeated but little thought of petition of the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us." The servant in the parable received forgiveness from his lord for the sum of ten thousand talents (a very large sum of money), yet he was unmerciful to his fellow-servant, who owed him a hundred pence. The difference between these sums is by no means so great as the difference between our offences against Almighty God and those of our brethren against us. If we could only realize who it is that we have offended, and then reflect as well upon our ingratitude in offending him, as upon the innumerable benefits he has showered upon us, we might form some faint idea of the gravity of our sin, and of the immense debt that we owe to his justice. We could not then refuse forgiveness to our neighbor for the trifling, and perhaps merely fancied, injuries that we may have suffered from him. "With what measure you shall mete, it shall be measured to you again." "If you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts," you cannot hope for pardon from God.
How, then, can we best practise this forgiveness which is so necessary for us? In the first place, it must be earnest and sincere forgiveness. It must be "from your hearts," as our Lord says. No mere outward show of forgiveness will be enough, for God sees the heart, and no appearances will satisfy him. But, on the other hand, the forgiveness will not be real and earnest unless it be shown outwardly. Many profess their willingness to forgive who yet show resentment and a spirit of revenge in many little ways, by looks, words, and actions which prove that there is no real forgiveness in the heart. Then again we find persons who, when they are urged to forgive some wrong, answer: "Well, father, I suppose I must forgive, if you tell me so." It is plain that this is but a very unwilling and faint-hearted forgiveness, which, will not answer before God. Why will not the generosity of God towards us lead us to show a like spirit towards our brethren?
We should strive to forgive offences the moment they are committed against us. Our natural impulse when any insult is offered to us is to resent it at once, and pay back in the same coin. How different is this from the example set us by our Lord, "Who, when he was reviled, did not revile; when he suffered, he threatened not." We should check the first uprisings of resentment, and keep back the angry reply, in imitation of our Blessed Lord's silence before his accusers and tormentors. By the practice of this Christian silence many a feud of long continuance would be prevented.
We must also "lay aside all malice," and be ready, when an injury has been done, to be reconciled with our offending brother. This is often very hard for us to do, and very repugnant to our natural inclinations, but it is, nevertheless, absolutely necessary. If we bear malice towards any one, we are not worthy of the name of Christians, or followers of Christ.
Try, then, to put in practice the teaching of this day's Gospel, and forgive from your heart those who have offended you, showing your forgiveness by your words and acts. There is nothing more scandalous and injurious to the Christian name than constant quarrels and long-continued animosities between those who go regularly to the sacraments. Follow, then, the injunction of St. Paul: "Let all bitterness, and anger, and indignation, and clamor, and blasphemy be taken away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind to one another, merciful, forgiving one another, even as God has forgiven you in Christ."
Sermon CXLII.
Gossiping.
Laying hold of him he throttled him, saying:
Pay me what thou owest.
—Words Taken From To-day's Gospel.
The Gospel of this Sunday, my dear brethren, inculcates in the strongest possible way the distinctively Christian virtue of brotherly love—the duty, that is, of cherishing a spirit of charity and consideration for other men, and especially of forgiving any injuries which they may have done us. This obligation is, however, so clearly and frequently and earnestly enforced in the New Testament, and from our earliest days has been brought home to us in so many ways, that at first sight it might seem that I could do something better this morning than to go back to such an old and familiar subject. And yet, old and familiar as it is, every-day life affords so many proofs that we do not carry our knowledge into practice that I am sure that nine in every ten, perhaps ninety-nine in every hundred, stand in need of being reminded of this old and familiar though badly learned lesson.
For of what is the every-day talk of most women and a great number of men made up, if not of ill-natured criticism and depreciation of their acquaintances, neighbors, and even friends? In the words of St. Paul, are we not continually biting and devouring one another? Are not the newspapers filled with stories which pander to this uncharitable spirit? What, in short, is more common than detraction, and even slander? Yet even these evils, grave and deadly as they are, are but small compared with other manifestations of this same uncharitable spirit. Why, I have been told of people who have worked side by side in the same work-shop, attended the same church, even knelt at the same altar-rail, and yet, for some trifling cause or other, have refused to speak to one another for years! What trouble priests have with people who come to confession to them! Sometimes the very most they can get is a vague, half-hearted expression of forgiveness, but on no account can they in some cases induce their penitents to extend to one another that which is due to every man, be he Jew or Turk, Catholic or Protestant—the ordinary salutations which civility requires.
Now, that all this is wrong is evident. Not one of us is so blind as not to be able to see that. But what the Gospel to-day points out, and what I wish to present to your serious consideration this morning, is the very unpleasant consequences which will infallibly follow upon such conduct. We know the story very well. A slave is in debt to his master for a very large amount—an amount which, while quite willing, he is utterly unable to pay. His master releases him from this debt. Whereupon this fine fellow, meeting a brother-slave who owed him a paltry sum, accosts him in the brutal manner mentioned in the text, demands immediate payment of the money, and, not withstanding the debtor's entreaties and his willingness to make it good as soon as possible, locks him up in prison until the amount is forthcoming. Thereupon his conduct is brought to the knowledge of their master. He at once summons the wicked slave before him and "delivers him to the torturers until he pays all the debt." Then our Lord says, and I ask for your serious attention to his words: "So also shall my Heavenly Father do to you if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts."
Of course, it is unnecessary to point out how strictly this applies to us. Many other texts might be cited from the Gospels to the same effect. One only I will mention, and that is, that we cannot say an "Our Father" without making the very forgiveness of our sins, which we ask for, dependent upon our forgiveness of the faults of others. We must forgive if we wish to be forgiven, and this forgiveness must be from the heart; no mere form of words, sufficient to satisfy men, but it must be a forgiveness sincere and genuine, such as to satisfy God, the searcher of hearts, before whom we must appear to give an account of our whole life.
Sermon CXLIII.
Mixed Marriages.
I wish to give a short instruction on the Sacrament of Matrimony this morning.
If a marriage with a merely nominal Catholic be fraught with dangerous consequences, and be the cause of much disturbance and anxiety to one who wishes to be a Christian in deed as well as in name—and that it is so I think all will agree—what shall we say of a mixed marriage, as it is called—of the union of a Catholic with one who holds religious views opposed to the faith of the church, or who, perhaps, has no belief or religion at all? How can any true harmony or peace be expected when there is discordance in the matter of religion, which lies nearest to the heart, and is more thoroughly interwoven in all the ideas, opinions, feelings, and practices of a practical Catholic than any other whatever?
Sympathy, union of interests and desires, of plans, hopes, and efforts, must exist in all true friendship; nay, more, without it association or companionship of any kind soon becomes a burden. There is no remedy for this except by dropping or putting in the back ground those aspirations and affections which are not shared by the other party. And what is true of all friendship is, of course, true above all of that which should be the highest, nearest, and dearest of all friendships—namely, that of marriage. The only way for a Catholic to be at all happy in a mixed marriage is to put religion in the background; to regard it, as, unfortunately, too many do, as a matter of very little importance; as something to be professed, indeed, and occasionally practised, but which is to have no special influence on the general course and tenor of one's life.
How can a Catholic wife, for instance, who is earnest about her religion be really happy with a husband who cannot attach any importance to, or see any sense in, her practices of devotion; to whom holy Mass, Benediction, the sacraments, the veneration of the saints and angels, and many other things which are her great helps and consolations in life, are mere idle mummeries and superstitions; who looks contemptuously on her observance of Lent, of Fridays, and fast days; who considers all the teachings and laws of the church an imposition and a fraud, to be done away with as far as possible; who, in short, either looks forward to nothing at all beyond this life, or, if he hopes for heaven, has a different one from hers, and seeks for it in a different way? The only plan that can be followed to secure even a seeming peace and agreement is to bring down the Catholic religion to its lowest level, to make out that it is not so very different from Protestantism after all; to be content with Mass on Sundays; to eat meat on Fridays whenever it is more convenient; to let the pope and the church generally get on as best they can, and to say no more about them than can be helped. Yes, this mixture even in the Catholic party of Catholic and Protestant is only too likely to be the result of a mixed marriage.
I know that it may be said, and with truth, that Protestants are not always prejudiced against our religion; that sometimes a Protestant husband is not only willing but anxious that his Catholic wife should attend thoroughly to her religious duties; and we find cases of Protestant wives even becoming Catholics, mainly, as it would seem, to induce by their example a more faithful practice of religion in their Catholic husbands. But these are results which we have no right to expect—no, not even if they are promised beforehand. And too often we find a state of things in a mixed marriage much worse than what I have described. We find, in spite of the most solemn promises made beforehand, a bitter and shameless persecution; Mass and the sacraments forbidden; children denied not only Catholic instruction, but even the grace of baptism; the priest not allowed in the house even in time of sickness, and nearly all hope gone of receiving the last rites of the church at the hour of death. We do not wish to blame the Protestant party too much in these cases; he may be acting according to his conscience, but such a conscience, though perhaps good enough for him, is not one which a Catholic should run the risk of being governed by.
Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Philippians i. 6-11.
Brethren:
We are confident of this very thing, that he, who hath begun a good work in you, will perfect it unto the day of Christ Jesus. As it is meet for me to think this for you all: because I have you in my heart; and that in my bonds, and in the defence, and confirmation of the gospel, you all are partakers of my joy. For God is my witness, how I long after you all in the bowels of Jesus Christ. And this I pray, that your charity may more and more abound in knowledge, and in all understanding: that you may approve the better things, that you may be sincere and without offence unto the day of Christ. Replenished with the fruit of justice through Jesus Christ, unto the glory and praise of God.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxii. 15-21.
At that time:
The Pharisees going away, consulted among themselves how to ensnare Jesus in his speech. And they sent to him their disciples with the Herodians, saying: Master, we know that thou art a true speaker, and teachest the way of God in truth, neither carest thou for any man; for thou dost not regard the person of men. Tell us, therefore, what dost thou think, Is it lawful to give tribute to Cæsar, or not? But Jesus, knowing their wickedness, said: Why do you tempt me, ye hypocrites? Show me the coin of the tribute. And they offered him a penny. And Jesus saith to them: Whose image and inscription is this? They say unto him: Cæsar's. Then he saith to them: Render, therefore, to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and to God the things that are God's.
Sermon CXLIV.
Obedience To The Civil Authorities.
Render therefore to Cæsar
the things that are Cæsar's,
and to God the things that are God's.
—Matthew xxii. 21
Our Lord made this reply, my dear brethren, to the question of some who asked him whether it was lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not; or, in other words, whether it was right to pay taxes to support the government of the Roman Empire, to which the Jews were then subjected, and which was a pagan, and in many ways an impious and ungodly power. They hoped that he would say that it was not; for if he did, they would have a very good charge to make against him before the Roman governor, as one who was a rebel and a disobeyer of the laws; and could thus bring about his ruin, which they earnestly desired. Now, if it really had been wrong to pay these taxes Christ would of course have said so; for, as they had said to him in truth, though they meant it as flattery, he was a true speaker, and would not betray the truth to please any man or to escape any danger. But instead of answering in this way, as they hoped, he surprised them by saying that they ought to pay the taxes which were imposed on them; he commanded them to obey the power, hateful in many ways as it was, whose subjects they were.
We must, therefore, conclude that the power of the state, or the law of the land as it is called, has a real claim in the name of God and of Christ to our obedience. For if our Lord required those who heard him to obey the Roman authorities, he would also require us to obey the duly constituted authorities under which we live at any time. For the cruel and persecuting pagan empire of Rome was surely no more worthy of respect and obedience than any other under which our lot is like to be cast.
And if we could have any doubt as to our duty in conscience on this point, St. Paul confirms this lesson most emphatically. "There is no power," he says, "but from God; and those that are, are ordained of God. … And they that resist purchase to themselves damnation. … Wherefore be subject of necessity, not only for wrath" (that is, for fear of the consequences) "but also for conscience sake." And coming to the very matter of which our Lord has spoken, he proceeds: "Render, therefore, to all men their dues. Tribute to whom tribute is due; custom to whom custom."
We see then clearly, my brethren, that the laws of the land bind us in conscience. And we do not by any means need to go back to apostolic times to find instruction to this effect. The successors of St. Peter, and those teaching in union with them, have always insisted on this duty of obedience to the civil power very strongly. Only last year, for instance, our Holy Father, Pope Leo XIII., has, in an encyclical letter, taught it to us very clearly. "The church," he says, "rightly teaches that the power of the state comes from God." And he tells us that, whatever the form of government may be—that is, whether the rulers are chosen by the people or not—it is not simply from the people that their right to rule and to be obeyed comes; the people in an elective government do not make the power, although they designate the person or persons in whom the power of God is to rest.
Of course no one denies that the civil power may, in particular cases, forfeit its claim to our obedience by requiring of us things manifestly unjust or plainly contrary to the law of God or of the church; as, for instance, if it should require us to attend Protestant worship, or should forbid us to make our Easter duty. But such cases are very rare, at least here in this country. We shall know easily enough when they arise. There is little fear, as things now are, of too great respect for law among us; the danger, rather, is of our regarding laws as the mere decisions of a majority, to which we have to submit as far as we cannot help it, and because we cannot help it, but to which we owe no interior reverence, and by breaking which we commit no sin. Whereas the truth is that we do sin by breaking any law of the land which is not manifestly unjust or contrary to the rights of God and the obedience we owe to him.
Remember, then, my brethren, to render to Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's. The President, Congress, our governors and legislatures, and the other powers that be are really God's vicegerents, though not in so high an order as the spiritual; still in their own place they truly act in God's name. Find out and consider what they require; confess and amend any disregard or disrespect for their laws, unless you wish to be guilty of contempt and disobedience to him from whom all law comes.
Sermon CXLV.
Thanksgiving Day.
Giving thanks to God the Father.
—Colossians i. 12.
This week, as you know, my brethren, a day has been appointed by the civil authorities, according to long-established custom, which we are invited to devote specially to thanksgiving for the many blessings which we have received from God during the year. And though the observance of this day is not an ecclesiastical obligation, yet there is a singular appropriateness in it for us on account of its falling just at the close of the year which the church celebrates. At this time, when we have completed the round of the mysteries of our faith, and are about to recommence it in the season of Advent, it must naturally occur to us to look back and thank God, not only for all his temporal benefits, but also and especially for the spiritual blessings which he has given us, and which we have just finished commemorating.
Even in the temporal order, however, we have abundant cause to be grateful to God. True, we have had our trials and sufferings, some more, some less; though even these we can perhaps even now see, and shall see more clearly hereafter, to have been blessings in disguise. But we have had much happiness and comfort in spite of these trials. Surely we ought not to pass this by unnoticed.
But this is just what we are too likely to do. Somehow or other, we are all apt to take things when they go right as a matter of course, and only to notice them when they go wrong. When we are sick we complain and make a great fuss, and perhaps are not satisfied unless we can make everybody else unhappy as well as ourselves; but when we are well, that is just as it should be: no thanks to anybody for that. No thanks to God, whose loving care and providence are necessary, and are given to us at each moment of our lives, and who is continually warding off from us a thousand dangers to which we are exposed, often through our own fault; no thanks to him whose angels watch over us to keep us in all our ways. By our ignorance and imprudence we are frequently endangering this wondrous life which he has given us; with all the science in the world, we do not understand it and could not direct it; it is he who causes our breath to come, our hearts to beat, and our blood to flow in our veins.
So also in the common affairs of life, our industry and skill would avail nothing if God did not come to our assistance. If our work or business prospers at all, it is due to him; it is his free gift. And all the conveniences of modern life which we pride ourselves so much on are the fruits of his power and skill which he lends us. It is he who shines on us, not only by the sun and moon, but also in those lights which we think that we ourselves produce; it is he who sends our telegraphic messages for us, who carries us where we will in our steamers and railway trains.
These perpetual and ordinary comforts of life, then, in which we all share, as well as our very life itself, are God's gift. And beside these, are there not more blessings which we can see if we look back on the year, standing out from the rest? Have we thanked him for all these? If not, let us then really make this a time to atone for past neglect; a time of thanksgiving in deed as well as in name.
But, above all, let us, whom he has given the signal and unspeakable blessing of the true faith, thank him for that. To those who have just come from the doubt and confusion of the world outside this true church this is a happiness which outweighs all troubles, a perpetual sunshine which drives away all clouds. Why should it not be so to us all? This is what St. Paul in his epistle wishes that it should be. "Giving thanks," he says, "to God the Father, who has made us worthy to be partakers of the lot of the saints in light, who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love, in whom we have redemption through his Blood, the remission of sins." Let us think on these words, and see if there is not enough in them to make at least one Thanksgiving day.
Sermon CXLVI.
The Communion Of Saints.
We are so near the Feast of All Saints and the commemoration of all the faithful departed—All Souls day—that we may well let our affectionate thoughts follow after our brethren who have gone before us and sleep in the peace of Christ.
There is scarcely one of us, dear brethren, who has not been familiar from childhood with the article of the Apostles Creed, "I believe in the communion of saints"; and there are few, if any, who have not derived consolation from this dogma of our faith, teaching, as it does, that we are not entirely cut off from those who have gone before us, but form with them one great family, of which the head is Christ and the members the souls of the just, whether in heaven or in purgatory, or still in the flesh.
But if this truth of holy religion brings consolation, it brings also the duty of praying for our brethren who are passing through the cleansing fires of purgatory; who, because of sin or the debt due for sin, cannot enter their eternal home until they have repaid the last farthing. They can do nothing for themselves—their day of meriting is past; they look to us who are their friends to help them.
While they were with us they were very dear to us—bound to us by ties of blood or friendship. Let us do our duty to them now; let us, by our good works in their behalf, show how much we love them; let us show that our affection for them was not selfish nor pretended, but so real and strong and lasting that death has but strengthened it and brought it to its fulness.
What one of us but has his daily task—his allotted work? Yet as each day brings its own burdens, so each day is full of opportunities of gaining indulgence for the souls in purgatory. The many inconveniences we all of us are called upon to suffer, the many sacrifices of comfort and of pleasure we make, the disappointments we meet with, the fatigues we bear—all these may be made sources of refreshment to our friends beyond the grave. If in the morning we would but offer to God all we shall do and suffer during the day for his honor and glory, and for the relief of the departed, oh! how soon would the angels welcome them to their true country, and how many advocates we should have before the throne of God!
But if so much can be done without any particular effort on our part, what shall we say of the efficacy of the special prayers we recite for them and the Masses we have offered for their repose! How shall we tell of their gratitude, of their unceasing supplications for us! We lose nothing, dear brethren, by praying for them; be assured we are rather the gainers, for not only do they pray for us, but more—our charity towards them deepens in our souls our love for God, and makes us thirst the more after virtue and holiness, and wins for us a higher place in heaven and a brighter crown of everlasting glory. Let us be generous, then; let us storm heaven with our prayers for the souls in purgatory, and we shall find rest for ourselves as well as for them.
Twenty-third Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Philippians iii. 17; iv. 3.
Be followers of me, brethren, and observe them who walk so as you have our model. For many walk, of whom I have told you often (and now tell you weeping) that they are enemies of the cross of Christ: whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame: who mind earthly things. But our conversation is in heaven: from whence also we wait for the Saviour, our Lord Jesus Christ, who will reform the body of our lowness, made like to the body of his glory, according to the operation whereby also he is able to subdue all things unto himself. Therefore, my dearly beloved brethren, and most desired, my joy and my crown; so stand fast in the Lord, my most dearly beloved. I beg of Euodia, and I beseech Syntyche to be of one mind in the Lord. And I entreat thee, my sincere companion, help those women who have labored with me in the Gospel, with Clement and the rest of my fellow-laborers, whose names are in the book of life.
Gospel.
St. Matthew ix. 18-26.
At that time:
As Jesus was speaking these things unto them, behold a certain ruler came, and adored him, saying: Lord, my daughter is just now dead; but come, lay thy hand upon her, and she shall live. And Jesus, rising up, followed him, with his disciples. And behold a woman who was troubled with an issue of blood twelve years, came behind him, and touched the hem of his garment. For she said within herself: If I shall but touch his garment I shall be healed. But Jesus, turning about and seeing her, said: Take courage, daughter, thy faith hath made thee whole. And the woman was made whole from that hour. And when Jesus came into the house of the ruler, and saw the minstrels and the crowd making a rout, he said: Give place, for the girl is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed at him. And when the crowd was turned out he went in, and took her by the hand. And the girl arose. And the fame hereof went abroad into all that country.
Sermon CXLVII.
Mixed Marriages.
From the simplest lessons of experience, my dear brethren, I think it ought to be plain enough how miserable a thing a mixed marriage is likely to be. Even if the faith and practice of the Catholic party and of the children is what it should be—which is certainly hardly to be expected—there will be great and continual suffering to them on account of the separation of the Protestant father or mother—who is all the more loved the better and kinder he or she may be—from the unity of the church and from the ordinary means of salvation.
In fact, it can hardly be imagined how any one having a lively faith in the Catholic religion can marry a Protestant or infidel, unless under the influence of a hope that some time or other the conversion of the other party will be effected. This hope does occasionally prove not to be a vain one. There are cases, no doubt, in which a Protestant, who would not probably otherwise have turned his thoughts to the question at all, does become a Catholic by means of marriage. But the best chance to obtain such a conversion is before the marriage is entered on; that is the time to try to secure it; and it is the duty of every Catholic who thinks of marrying one outside the church to do the best in his or her power to bring the other party over, not only in name but in fact, to the true faith. I say in fact, for, unfortunately, many a non-Catholic, who has no strong conviction about religion in any way, will be willing to call himself a Catholic, and even to be baptized, in order to remove objections which may be made. Take care, then, that the conversion which is professed is a sincere and genuine one, and not merely got up for the occasion. I have heard of a case in which the Protestant party, when his religion was urged by the priest as an objection to the marriage, which would make trouble, most cheerfully replied: "Well, father, if it would be any convenience to you, I am quite ready to be a Catholic." Such converts are not so very uncommon, though it is not often that they let their state of mind be seen so plainly. They will sit through several instructions given to them by the priest, making no question or remark about anything which he says, that they may get through as soon as possible; and when they do get through, that is about the last of their Catholic profession, or at least of their attendance to any Catholic duties.
If, then, a conversion, and a real and true conversion, cannot be obtained before marriage, there is certainly much fear that it never will be accomplished afterward. Be warned, then, in time; do not indulge false hopes in this regard; do not marry in haste and repent at leisure.
And about this matter of conversion I will say a few words, with reference not to Protestants, but to careless and negligent Catholics. A Catholic who is negligent of his duties has, it is true, if he keeps his faith, a resource which the Protestant has not; he knows what to do to be reconciled with God at the last; he will probably try to do it, and he may succeed. There is then more hope for his final salvation in this way than for the Protestant; but that does not make him a better companion during life; and many of the miseries of a mixed marriage are met with, and some, perhaps, even in a greater degree, with nominal Catholics than with Protestants. If, then, you contemplate marriage even with a Catholic, be sure to see that he or she attends to the duties required of Catholics, and has not contracted vicious and dangerous habits. Do not delude yourself with the idea that a confession and Communion must be made at the time of the marriage, and that the priest will attend to all that is necessary. For this confession and Communion may be in some cases not so very good and fervent; they may be something like what some Protestants, as I have said, go through with for convenience or necessity. No, do not leave it all to the priest, but do your own part. If the behavior of the other party before marriage is not such as becomes a Christian, both with regard to the frequentation of the sacraments and also in the matter of temperance and in others of which you are the best and indeed the only judge, it is not likely that it will be so afterward. Take care, then, before taking a step which you cannot retrace. You, not the priest, are the one to secure now the amendment of life which is so necessary. A word to the wise should be sufficient.
Sermon CXLVIII.
Imitation Of The Saints.
My fellow-laborers,
whose names are in the book of life.
—Philippians iv. 3.
Thus does St. Paul in the Epistle of to-day speak of St. Clement and the others who had "labored with him in the Gospel." Do you wish that your name, too, should be written in the book of life? Follow the path trodden here below by the saints of God, and then, even while yet on earth, your name will be recorded in heaven. For holy church commands us to observe this festival of All Saints, of which we are now keeping the octave, not only in honor of those whose names are in the calendar, and whose feasts come round in the course of each year, but also in praise of that great multitude which no man can number—of all nations, and tribes, and peoples, and tongues—who stand before the throne and in sight of the Lamb, clothed with white robes and palms in their hands. The saints whom the church has honored with canonization are but a small number in that vast multitude. They were the heroes of the Christian army, but the great majority of those who are now receiving the homage of the church were the rank and file—common every day Christians, like ourselves. The festival of All Saints, therefore, especially appeals to us by showing us that sanctity is not something away off out of our reach and entirely beyond our powers, but that it is what we must each strive after if we hope to win heaven. For nothing defiled can enter there, and without holiness no man shall see God, As, then, we hope to be one day saints in heaven, we must try now to be saints on earth. That is why St. Paul addresses all the faithful as the "beloved of God, called to be saints." Yet many Christians are forgetful of this high vocation. They seem to think that God has laid down one rule, one course of life for saints, and quite another for ordinary people. This is all a mistake. God's law is the same for every one. There are, indeed, special duties belonging to particular states of life, but apart from these there is no difference in what is required of every Christian. We are all of us bound to follow the strait and narrow way which leadeth unto life. The chief happiness of that life will consist in the sight of God, to be always in his presence, serving him continually in joy and thanksgiving. And the way to this life our Lord has told us in the sermon on the Mount: "Blessed are the clean of heart, for they shall see God."
So, then, in order to attain to this life, to dwell for ever in the sight of God, it is not necessary to imitate the saints in their extraordinary deeds, their heroic acts of penance and self-sacrifice, their suffering for the faith. Some of us are, indeed, called upon to stand out conspicuously among other Christians, as they did, and show to the world an example of courage and heroism. But for all of us the hidden virtues are the ones required, and if we cultivate these, God, who seeth in secret, will himself reward us openly in the day when the secrets of all hearts shall be revealed. The one thing needful for each one of us is purity of heart, to cleanse our hearts from sin and from all affection towards sin. "Dearly beloved," says St. John, "if our heart do not reprehend us, we have confidence towards God." See to it, then, that your heart is all right towards God. Cleanse your soul from mortal sin by turning your heart away from the sin you have committed by sincere and hearty contrition and by a good confession. Then keep your heart right towards God by giving it to him who says to you, "My son, give me thy heart." God alone is worthy of the full love of our hearts, and he alone can satisfy the heart of man. If we set our affections upon sin or upon the passing things of this world there is reserved for us in the end nothing but unsatisfied longings and bitterness of heart. But if we purify our hearts from every affection that would lead us away from God we shall indeed be called "blessed," and our names shall be written in the book of life.
Sermon CXLIX.
Heaven.
Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
—St. Matthew. v. 2.
[USCCB: Matthew. v. 3.]
All Saints' day is a solemn and glorious festival for all heaven as well as for all the world; for to-day God is praised, and the great salvation by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ magnified and lauded by a common, universal act of holy congratulation and worship among all the saints—that is, among all souls that are united to God in the communion of saints, whether in the church triumphant, in the church suffering, or in the church militant.
It seems to me that none but Catholics believe in heaven, the eternal home of the saints after death, because they alone appear to understand what a saint is, as the church has proved herself to be the only power which has been able to train and canonize one.
Yes, all we can know of heaven is, that it is the reward, the everlasting life, the new and divine state of being which the saints enter into and enjoy when they have left this world—that is, when they die in the church militant and rise in glory in the church triumphant. If any Christian, then, or so-called Christian, fancies he can meditate about heaven, and hopes to get there without knowing what a saint is, and without striving to be as near one as he can, he is simply deceiving himself. I fear that the kind of place some people think would be a good enough heaven for them, if we are to judge by the way they live, is, in fact, not much above what the state of hell really is. Many are the souls who ought to have been saints, and are damned because they were unfaithful to the vocation God gave them, and too sensual to make the necessary sacrifices that such a vocation demanded. What kind of a heaven, for instance, do you think the many intelligent Protestants we meet with every day will likely get, who know they ought to become Catholics to save their souls, and are yet afraid to take the step; who stand still and count the cost, and cheat their consciences with the false doctrine that no real sacrifices are demanded of them, because God will be more glorified if they leave all to him and do nothing themselves? And yet these people, and a good many Catholics, too, are living just such lives, and in their deaths they will not be divided.
And now do you say: O Father! tell us, then, what a saint is, that we may be sure we are not all wrong, but may have some hope of imitating such, and so join the company of the glorified ones in heaven when we die! I answer: A saint is one who does everything he feels that God wants him to do, and carefully gives up and avoids everything that he feels is not pleasing to God. Apply that to yourself. God does not want the same thing of everybody, nor require all to make the same sacrifices. So that, as a fact, there are all kinds of saints, as we know. But in what he does require he demands that one should aim at doing it perfectly. "Be ye perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect," said our Lord. Be perfectly honest, be perfectly pure, be perfectly sober, be perfectly charitable, be perfectly obedient to the laws of God and man, be perfectly humble, be perfectly free from loving money or other riches.
Don't let me ever hear you say again that you are "a man of the world and must live in it" as an excuse for the wretched apology for a Christian life you lead. You know that is a lie. You are a man, and a Christian man of the kingdom of God and of his saints, and that is the kind of a place you live in, and must square your life accordingly, or you will never see the kingdom of God and of his saints in glory, which is heaven, when you die. In to-day's Gospel our Lord pronounces the eight beatitudes. Think on them, and, if you do not know them by heart, take out your Bible when you go home and read them at the beginning of the fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. So live that you will merit to be one of those our Lord declares to be "blessed," and you will surely be a saint.
Easter being a movable Feast which can occur on any day from the 22d of March to the 25th of April, the number of Sundays between Epiphany and Septuagesima, and between Pentecost and Advent, varies according to the situation of Easter. There are always at least two Sundays, unless Epiphany falls on a Sunday, and never more than six, between Epiphany and Septuagesima. Likewise, there are never fewer than twenty-three Sundays after Pentecost, or more than twenty-eight. The Gospel and Epistle for the last Sunday after Pentecost are always the same. When there are twenty-three Sundays, the Gospel and Epistle for the last Sunday are substituted for those of the twenty-third. When there are twenty-five Sundays, the Gospel and Epistle for the sixth Sunday after Epiphany are taken; when there are twenty-six, those also of the fifth after Epiphany; when there are twenty-seven, those of the fourth, and when there are twenty-eight, those of the third, in order to fill up the interval which occurs. In any year, in which there are more than twenty-four Sundays after Pentecost, proper sermons for these Sundays are to be found among those which are arranged for the Sundays following the Feast of the Epiphany. If one sermon is wanting, it is taken from the sixth Sunday after Epiphany; if two, three, or four are needed, the last two or three or four sermons which precede Septuagesima are to be taken, in their order.
Twenty-fourth or Last Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
Colossians i. 9-14.
Brethren:
We cease not to pray for you, and to beg that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding: that you may walk worthy of God, in all things pleasing: being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God: strengthened with all might according to the power of his glory, in all patience and long-suffering with joy, giving thanks to God the Father, who hath made us worthy to be partakers of the lot of the saints in light: who hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and hath translated us into the kingdom of the Son of his love: in whom we have redemption through his blood, the remission of sins.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xxiv. 15-35.
At that time Jesus said to his disciples:
When you shall see "the abomination of desolation," which was spoken of by Daniel the prophet, standing in the holy place: he that readeth, let him understand. Then let those that are in Judea flee to the mountains. And he that is on the house-top, let him not come down to take anything out of his house: and he that is in the field, let him not go back to take his coat. And woe to them that are with child, and that give suck in those days. But pray that your flight be not in the winter or on the Sabbath. For there shall be then great tribulation, such as hath not been from the beginning of the world until now, neither shall be. And unless those days had been shortened, no flesh should be saved: but for the sake of the elect those days shall be shortened. Then, if any man shall say to you: Lo, here is Christ, or there, do not believe him. For there shall arise false christs and false prophets, and shall show great signs and wonders, insomuch as to deceive (if possible) even the elect. Behold I have told it to you beforehand. If therefore they shall say to you: Behold he is in the desert; go ye not out: Behold he is in the closets; believe it not. For as lightning cometh out of the east, and, appeareth even unto the west, so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be. Wheresoever the body shall be, there shall the eagles also be gathered together. And immediately after the tribulation of those days, the sun shall be darkened, and the moon shall not give her light, and the stars shall fall from heaven, and the powers of the heavens shall be moved. And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn: and they shall see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with great power and majesty. And he shall send his angels with a trumpet, and a great voice: and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds, from the farthest parts of the heavens to the uttermost bounds of them. Now learn a parable from the fig-tree: when its branch is now tender, and the leaves come forth, you know that summer is nigh. So also you, when you shall see all these things, know that it is near, even at the doors. Amen, I say to you, this generation shall not pass till all these things be done. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away.
Sermon CL.
Marrying Out Of The Church.
In our course of instructions on marriage, my dear friends, we have so far spoken chiefly of the care which should be taken in the selection of the person who is to be one's constant companion through life, and shown that not only earthly happiness, but even the salvation of the soul, may depend on this choice being made wisely. We will now go on to consider the ceremony of marriage itself.
Some people, though they have always been Catholics and lived among Catholics, seem to be entirely ignorant of the laws and requirements of the church on this subject. They appear to think that nothing has to be done but to call on the priest some fine evening, and that he will marry them then and there. And if it is not convenient to go to the priest, or if he makes any difficulty about it, why, then a Protestant minister or his honor the mayor will do at a pinch.
Now there are several points which these people need instruction about, and several mistakes which they make in this very important affair. We shall have to consider them separately. And we will begin with the greatest mistake of all which can be fallen into by Catholics who wish to get married, and that is to go to a Protestant minister for the purpose.
What is, then, the harm exactly of going to a Protestant minister to get married? Is it that a Protestant minister is an immoral or vicious character, with whom we should have nothing to do? By no means. He is, indeed, more likely to be to blame for his errors in religion than his people, for he has, from his greater knowledge in religious matters, a better chance to know the truth; but even a minister may be in good faith about his doctrine. And in other respects he may be a worthy and estimable gentleman.
But the reason why Catholics should avoid going to him for marriage is that marriage is one of the seven sacraments which our Lord has entrusted to the keeping of his church. These sacraments, then, belong to the church, and we cannot recognize the right of those who separate from her to administer them or to assist officially at them, though they may have the power to do so validly. Therefore, though marriage be real and valid when contracted before a Protestant minister, and though his own people, of course, are not to blame, if in good faith, for availing themselves of his services, we cannot do so. In deed, this would be the case even if marriage were not a sacrament, but merely a religious rite or ceremony; we cannot allow the ministers of any sect separated from the church to act as such for us in any religious function; to do so would be to allow their claim to act in the name of Christ. This we can never do, and, above all, where the sacraments are concerned.
Another, and a very weighty reason, why Catholics cannot go before a minister for marriage, is that no one but the Catholic clergy can be supposed to be sufficiently acquainted with the laws of God and of the church regarding Christian marriage. There are impediments, as they are called, which make marriage invalid unless a dispensation is obtained from the proper source. Some of these are commonly known, such as those which proceed from a near relationship of the parties; but there are others which are not known even by name to the great mass of the faithful, and which a Protestant minister, even should he happen to know them, would never for a moment regard. Catholics, therefore, if they go to a minister to get married, run a great risk of not being really married at all, owing to these impediments not being detected or attended to. By the law of the State their marriage may be a good and real one, but in the sight of God it will not be so, if any such impediment should exist, and not have been removed by dispensation; and this holds, even though no suspicion of such an impediment should have arisen. You see, then, how important it is in this matter to consult those who are competent to advise them.
Sermon CLI.
Joy In God's Service.
Let the peace of Christ rejoice in your hearts, …
and be, ye, thankful.
—Colossians iii. 15.
Of the several great lessons contained in to-day's Epistle, the one most insisted on and brought out is that of thankfulness and joyfulness in the service of God.
In the labors of St. Paul (and his labors were more abundant than all the Apostles), in his frequent tribulations and crosses, he never ceased giving thanks in all things—nor did he ever tire of inculcating this same duty on the first Christians. If, then, my brethren, thankfulness and joyfulness are such a great part of religion, it would be well this morning to see if they be characteristic of our service. We have a multitude of reasons for being thankful to God, if we but thought of them—the gifts of nature—life, health, strength, the pleasures and gratifications of the mind, learning, objects of interest, of study and beauty, both in nature and art, the pleasures of home, the joys of friendship. These are real and great benefits; they are causes of joy and motives of thankfulness. Our good God intended us to find enjoyment in the moderate use of them, not, indeed, as ends in themselves, but as means to our one great end. And so he has spread the charm of beauty over this place of our sojourn and made it pleasant and interesting, lest we lose heart and become sad, and languish on our journey to heaven.
But to speak of higher gifts and benefits: What motives of joy and thankfulness ought we not to find in the knowledge of God, his truth, mercy, and goodness as made known to us in the Scripture and in his Divine Son, our Saviour and friend, the God-Man; in the gift of the faith, the spiritual riches of the church and the sacraments, his mercies to us personally—blessings on our labors, the removal of dangers from our paths, his gracious forgiveness of our sins, time and again. Then, too, what we expect and through his mercy count on for the future—the joys of heaven, those delights which pass our understanding. The life of heaven will be pure joy, and its one occupation thankfulness. Surely, then, this life should be a figure and foretaste of it; and so St. Paul thought, for he bids us "be thankful," "rejoice and rejoice always"; singing in grace in our hearts, and in every word and work giving thanks to God.
It is plain that, since God has done his part in bestowing the benefits in such abundant measure, we should do ours in returning thanks, for gratitude is the correlative of benefit. It is equally plain that the true religion is joyful. Now, is such our religion? Is this the way we act? Is it the way we consider God's service? We see, I think, more anxious and sad faces than thankful and glad ones; and I fear that the joyfulness of the latter does not come generally from the reasons I have given. It comes too often from worldly causes, from success in temporal things, from hopes and prospects which relate to indifferent things, if they are not dangerous and positively bad. Whereas the common idea of religion is that it is an unpleasant, sad, up-hill sort of a thing, which imposes restraints upon us, and, far from being a cause of thankfulness and joy, is a great interference with the pleasure of life. Pious people, too, are regarded as dull, simple, spiritless creatures, quite the opposite of joyful.
This is all wrong, all false, and, if it be our religion, then we have not the true religion, at least practically. For as God's benefits are real and great, so our thanks and joy should be in them and correspond to them. Religion, being our highest duty, should be and can be our highest pleasure. God says it is, and he is truth; those who have tried say the same. "What shall I render to God for all he hath rendered to me?"—"better one day in thy courts than a thousand years in the tents of sinners"—"taste and see how sweet the Lord is." Our consciences and experience bear out the same truth; for surely evil cannot be compared to good in fulness, in intensity; and, above all, it will not wear, it will not last, and it leaves us dissatisfied, fearful, sad. The pleasure and joy of a good life to a good man even here are far greater than the pleasure of sin to a sinner. Let us, then, make up our minds, once for all, that not only is religion the most necessary, but the wisest and the happiest thing for us. Let us serve God with thankfulness, both for what he has done and will do for us, if we are faithful. If he has done so much in this state of probation, exile, and punishment, what will he not do when the time of reward and enjoyment arrives. Surely, considering what we are and what we have done, the pains and crosses bear no proportion to the benefits, and we have cause even in present labors to be thankful and in every word and work to give him praise through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Sermon CLII.
Forgive And Be Forgiven.
"Bearing with one another
and forgiving one another,
if any have a complaint against another.
Even as the Lord hath forgiven you,
so you also."
—Colossians iii. 13.
This, my dear brethren, is the law of Christ. It is a law we are bound to keep. We cannot save our souls unless we do keep it. There is no possible way to escape its requirements, for our Lord himself declares positively: "But if you will not forgive men, neither will your Father forgive you your offences" (Matthew vi. 15). Therefore, there is no way to save our souls, no way to be true Christians in life, unless we forgive all and every one, without exception, every injury they have done us.
But one may say: I do forgive all who have injured me if they repent, say they are sorry, and ask pardon! My dear brethren, this won't do. You must forgive whether they repent or not. Nothing less will satisfy the Lord. The best reason is that since the Lord has forgiven us, so we also are bound to forgive all. A true lover of the Lord doesn't want a better reason. A greater or a better cannot be given. Our Lord himself has set the example. He has taken our sins upon himself, and caused the Eternal Father to forgive us our sins for his sake beforehand, before we have even repented or shown by a single sign that we want to belong to God and to hate sin. Do we not receive in our baptism, as infants, the grace that destroys original sin? Original sin placed us under the power of the devil, and made us unworthy to be called the sons of God, but our Christian baptism made us again the sons of God. Does not God forgive us also our mortal sins, giving us time to repent, and even waiting patiently for our repentance? Remember, these sins after baptism are all the greater because after being made innocent we again become guilty.
But some try to excuse themselves and say: It is hard to have to do this; I can't do it. The sin against me is too great; it ought not to be forgiven. This is not true. There is nothing we can't forgive, nothing we are permitted to leave unforgiven. We can forgive any sin against us if we will. If it is hard, pray and it will become easy. Sincere prayer for him who is our enemy is sure to remove very soon all feeling against him. This is certain: that it will, without fail, prevent the malice and revenge in our hearts from overcoming us and causing us to sin grievously against charity. Remember that everything we do well for our Lord is hard at first, but is made easy by prayer and faithful, persevering effort.
Again, some object: I try to pray but cannot, because when I pray I think of my wrongs and begin to hate my enemy, so that my prayer is insincere or stops on my lips! Then pray for all poor sinners, and don't mean to leave your enemy out of your prayers. This is a good beginning, and keeps you from mortal sin, for pray we must for our enemies. This is a fundamental law of the Christian life. If we intentionally leave out one single soul when we pray for all poor sinners, we sin in the very presence of God, and our prayers are rejected; nor shall they be accepted until we include that soul also.
Let us remember, my dear brethren, that we are called by our Lord to show to the world that being the friends of God means that he puts into our souls his loving, merciful, long-suffering Spirit, and thus makes us like to himself. Does any one want to be God-like? Then let him forgive from his heart every injury and all who injure him.
To gain courage to forgive, let us see what forgiveness does. It saves God's honor. It prevents his being insulted. For example: when one insults us, he sins against God and insults him also. If we answer back, we also insult God, and make two sins instead of one. Next, our angry answer makes our enemy reply again; for another sin are we responsible. So it goes on until a number of sins are committed by each one. Silence on our part would have prevented these insults to God and left our souls unstained. We were not silent. The consequence is we not only increased another's sin, but we added our own and lost the friendship of God. Had a forgiving spirit been in each soul this could not have happened. Had it been in one of them, one soul at least would have been kept from sin. Cultivate, then, a forgiving spirit, and "even as the Lord hath forgiven you, so you also" forgive all.