We hear a great deal nowadays, my dear brethren, about toleration. It is a thing which the nineteenth century takes a special pride in. It seems to imagine that it is really a great deal more charitable and patient than any previous one, and that, in fact, the apostles themselves might learn a lesson of Christian virtue from it, if they could come back to the earth.
I wish that such were actually the case; but if we examine this pretended toleration and charity we shall have to confess that it is simply a sham, having nothing whatever in it to make it deserve the name it takes. You would not say of any man that he was of a tolerant and patient disposition because he was quite willing that some stranger should be interfered with, provided he himself was let alone. Well, that is precisely the tolerance of the nineteenth century. The world is now tolerant about all things in which the rights of Almighty God are concerned, because it has made him a stranger to itself; but it resents interference with itself, and insists on being let alone in its own enjoyments as much as, or more than, ever.
The world, then, has not yet learned to be tolerant, patient, or charitable in any true sense of those words, in spite of all its boasting; and it is much to be feared that it never will. After all, it is not much wonder that it has not; for this is a very difficult lesson, and one which one must have the help of God to learn. True tolerance or patience, bearing with others when they interfere, not with somebody else, but with ourselves, is a fruit of grace rather than of nature. It cannot be expected from those who have rejected the grace of God as a needless encumbrance in the journey of life. If they have the appearance of it, it is only an outside finish of what is called politeness, put on merely to save trouble and make things more comfortable on the whole.
But it is not for Christians who are trying to live by the light of grace, not of nature; who believe in God and are trying to keep his commandments; who wish to imitate Christ, and are receiving the sacraments which should enable them to do so, to follow the example of such.
We ought to try to be really tolerant with our brethren, whatever their faults or defects may be or however much they may put us out or interfere with our comfort consciously or unconsciously, "with patience, supporting one another in charity," as St. Paul says in the Epistle of to-day. And yet must we not confess that too often we do not even make an attempt to practise this virtue? Your neighbor offends you in some trifling way, perhaps without really meaning to do so or knowing that he does; it may be even by some peculiarity which is not really his fault at all. Do you put up with it; do you say: "Oh! that is not much; I must take people as I find them and as God made them, not as I would like to have them; we all have plenty of defects, and perhaps I myself am the worst of all"? Do you not rather say: "Oh! there is no getting along with such a person; I will keep out of his way; I cannot bear the sight of him; it will be better for us to avoid speaking," and the like?
This intolerance, which is so common, is simply avoiding a cross which we ought to carry, not only for the love of God, like all others, but for the love of our neighbor also; and especially when it comes from those who are our brethren not only by a common humanity but by a common faith, who have with us, as St. Paul goes on to remind us, "one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all, and in us all." Try, then, to bear this cross cheerfully, and show, by so doing, that you really are aiming to fulfil the great commandments given in to-day's Gospel, by loving God, from whom it comes, with your whole heart and soul and mind, and your neighbor, by whom it comes, as yourself.