[Footnote 69: II. Cor. v. 14.]
You see what his idea was—that the love of Christ was a debt that could never be paid, that it was a claim on us that pressed continually, and was never satisfied. And surely it is so. When we think at all, we must all acknowledge that it is so. Who is Christ? the Son of God, the Splendor of His Father's Glory, and the Image of His Substance. Who are we? lost sinners. And for us "He did not abhor the Virgin's womb." He did not refuse "to bear our infirmities, and carry our sorrows." He gave His body to the smiters, and turned not away from those that rebuked Him and spat upon Him. He gave His blood [as] a ransom for many, and laid down His life for sin. Was there ever love like this? While gratitude lives among men, what shall be the return given to Christ by those whom He has redeemed? Is the return we are actually making such as He deserves? Was it for this that He died, that we should not commit quite so many mortal sins? Was it for this that He hung on the cross, that only now and then we should omit some important duty? Was it for this that He sweat those great drops of blood, that we should live a slothful and irreligous life? O my brethren, when I see how men are living; when I look at some Christians, and see how when Easter comes round it is an even chance whether they go to their duties or not; when I see them on Sunday stay away from Mass so lightly, or listen to the word of God so carelessly; when I see them omit most important duties toward their families; when I see how freely they expose themselves to temptation, and how easily they yield to it; when I see how slow they are to prayer, how cold, sluggish, sensual and worldly they are; above all, when I hear them give for an answer, when they are questioned about these things, so indifferently, "I neglected it," I ask myself, Did these men ever hear of Christ? Do they know in whose name they are baptized? Did they ever look at a crucifix, or read the story of the Passion? Alas! yes, they have seen and heard and read, and have taken their side, if not with Judas in his deceitful kiss, or the soldiers in their mockery, with the crowd of careless men who passed by, regardless and hard-hearted. But let these men know that their Saviour sees and resents their neglect. "Because thou art lukewarm," He says, "and neither cold nor hot, I will begin to vomit thee out of my mouth." [Footnote 70] His soul loathes the slothful and half-hearted. Yes, slothful Christian, far different will be the estimate thou wilt make of thy life when thou comest to die, from what thou makest now. Then that negligence of thine, of which thou makest so little, will seem the crime it really is; and bitter will be the account thou shalt render of it to Christ thy Judge.
[Footnote 70: Apoc. iii. 16.]
But if it be not enough to rouse us from our torpor, to think that we are offending God, let us reflect how great is the danger which we are bringing on our own souls. A negligent Christian is in very great danger of being lost. I said just now that he falls into mortal sins now and then. It is hardly possible it should be otherwise. One will certainly fall into mortal sin if he does not take pains to avoid it. We all have within us concupiscence, or a tendency to love the creature with a disordered love, and this tendency is much increased in most men by actual sins of their past lives. Now, this principle acts as a weight on the will, always dragging it down to the earth. Fervent men make allowance for this. They aim higher than it is necessary to reach. They leave a margin for failures, weakness, and surprise. They build out-works to guard the approaches to the citadel. But with the negligent Christian it is the contrary of all this. Unreflecting, unguarded, unfortified by prayer, in his own weakness, and with his strong bent to evil, he must meet the immediate and direct temptations to mortal sin which befall him in his daily life. Is not his fall certain? Not to speak of very strong temptations which can only be overcome by a special grace, which grace God has not promised to grant except to the faithful soul—even ordinary temptations are too much for such a man. He falls into mortal sin almost without resistance.
And what is also to be taken into the account is, that the difference between mortal and venial sin is often a mere question of more or less. So much is a mortal sin: so much is not. The line is often very difficult, nay, impossible to be drawn, even by a theologian. Now, who can tell us in practice when we have arrived at the limit of venial sin, when we have passed beyond it and are in mortal sin? Will not a careless, thoughtless man, such as I have described, will he not be certain sometimes to go over the fatal line? Yes, my brethren, negligent Christians commit mortal sins. They commit mortal sins almost without knowing it. They commit mortal sins oftener than they imagine. Without opposing religion, without abandoning themselves to a reprobate life, just by neglecting God and their duties, they fall into grievous sins; bad habits multiply upon them apace, their passions grow stronger, grace grows weaker, their good resolutions less frequent and less hopeful, until they are near to spiritual ruin. The wise man gives us in a striking picture the description of such a soul: "I passed by the field of the slothful man and by the vineyard of the foolish man: And behold, it was all filled with nettles, and thorns had covered the face thereof: and the stone wall was broken down, which when I had seen, I laid it up in my heart, and by the example I received instruction. Thou will sleep a little, said I: thou will slumber a little: thou will fold thy hands a little to rest: And poverty shall come upon thee as one that runneth, and want as an armed man." [Footnote 71]
[Footnote 71: Proverbs xxiv. 30.]
And what is to secure you from dying in such a state? Our Lord says, "If the master of the house had known in what hour the thief would come, he would have watched, and would not have suffered his house to be broken open." [Footnote 72]
[Footnote 72: Matt. xxiv. 43.]
But he knew not, and so in the dead of night, when deep sleep falleth on man, the thief came. And so it is with death. It comes like a thief in the night. Death is almost always sudden. Sometimes it comes without any warning at all. A man is sent into eternity in a moment, without time to utter a prayer. Sometimes it comes after sickness, but sickness does not always prepare for death. The sick man says: "Oh, it is nothing; I shall soon be well." His friends say the same. If he gets worse the priest is sent for; he would like to receive the sacraments. But too often he has not yet looked Death in the face, he has not heard the dreadful truths he has to tell, he is much as he was in life, slothful and negligent. And after the priest is gone, when he is alone, at midnight, that comes to pass of which he has thought so little. Death enters the room, and with his icy hand unlocks the prison of the body, whispering to the soul with awful voice, "Arise, and come to judgment." O my brethren, how dreadful, if at that hour you find yourself unready! If like the foolish virgins you are forced to cry: "Our lamps are gone out." "Cursed is he that doeth the work of the Lord negligently," [Footnote 73] saith the Holy Scripture. The work of the Lord is the work of our salvation. That is the work of our life, the work for which we are created, and he, who through negligence leaves this work undone, shall hear at the last that dreadful sentence: "Depart ye cursed."