Third Sunday after Pentecost.
Epistle.
1 St. Peter v. 6-11.
Dearly beloved:
Be you humbled under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in the time of visitation. Casting all your solicitude upon him, for he hath care of you. Be sober and watch; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goeth about seeking whom he may devour. Whom resist ye, strong in faith: knowing that the same affliction befalleth your brethren who are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory in Christ Jesus, when you have suffered a little, will himself perfect, and confirm, and establish you. To him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Gospel.
St. Luke xv. 1-10.
At that time:
The publicans and sinners drew near unto Jesus to hear him. And the Pharisees and the Scribes murmured, saying: This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. And he spoke to them this parable, saying: What man among you that hath a hundred sheep: and if he shall lose one of them, doth he not leave the ninety-nine in the desert, and go after that which was lost until he find it? And when he hath found it, doth he not lay it upon his shoulders rejoicing: and coming home call together his friends and neighbors, saying to them: Rejoice with me, because I have found my sheep that was lost. I say to you, that even so there shall be joy in heaven upon one sinner that doth penance, more than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance. Or what woman having ten groats, if she lose one groat, doth not light a candle and sweep the house and seek diligently until she find it? And when she hath found it, call together her friends and neighbors, saying: Rejoice with me, because I have found the groat which I had lost. So I say to you, there shall be joy before the angels of God upon one sinner doing penance.
Sermon LXXXVIII.
Sinful Amusements.
Be sober and watch, because your adversary the devil
as a roaring lion goeth about,
seeking whom he may devour.
—Epistle of the Day.
I need not tell you, dear brethren, that there is nothing more contrary to the spirit of our holy religion than melancholy. The church would not have her children long-faced and mopish, eschewing all pleasure as a thing sinful; nor would she have them unhappy by depriving them of what is good and forbidding what is innocent, but like a wise mother she permits, nay, sanctions, harmless amusements, knowing that this, far from being an impediment to us in our efforts after holiness, is rather a help.
But, unfortunately, all pleasures are not innocent. There are some which are sinful—very sinful—and which, instead of aiding us by begetting a holy gladness, fill us with remorse and rob the soul of the grace of God, which is the principle of all our joy. Such pleasures as these the church forbids; such as these she would have us avoid, and she warns us that they come not from God, but from our adversary the devil, who is seeking our ruin. It is with regret that we say it, still we say it with truth, that of late years a very dangerous sort of amusement has taken more or less hold upon numbers of our young people, and, now that we are at the beginning of summer, it may not be amiss to say a word or two about a certain sort of "picnics."
It is hard to conceive how a young man or woman, who wishes to be deemed respectable, or even to preserve self-respect, can attend any of those moonlight gatherings known as picnics, festivals, etc. Call them by what name you please, as a whole they are bad. The places where these meetings are held, the persons whom you cannot avoid coming in contact with, make them dangerous at least, and very frequently a real occasion of sin. How can a young girl know the character of him with whom she is dancing? She has been introduced, to be sure, but what of that? Does she feel quite certain that she may not be subjected to insult or worse? Is she satisfied that her mother would be pleased to see her with her present companions? Is she not engaged in a dance which borders on immodesty? Take care, my good girl, you have taken your first downward step to-night; retrace your way, and never be found at such a "festival" as this again, if you value your good name. Nor can young men attend these "moonlight rural gatherings" without endangering their fair fame and interests. A pure woman will not marry a man who consorts with bad characters. She will not trust herself to the tender mercies of one who reaches home in the early morning in a half or wholly drunken state. She cannot look forward to a happy life with one of this character, and she will not encourage his attentions. Employers are not over-anxious to have in their service those who come to their occupations with evident marks of debauchery. They believe that young men of this sort are not efficient, and they believe so rightly; they think that these are not altogether trustworthy; that they are constantly exposing themselves to danger and theft. It does not pay, young men, to go to "moonlight picnics." It is not to your interest, either temporal or spiritual. Do not be carried away with the idea that you can be dissipated with impunity. "Be sober and watch" yourselves, remembering that a good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and certainly to be preferred to the gross pleasures of moonlight orgies.