What is this veil which obscures the cross of Jesus Christ and makes his Passion of no effect? O dear brethren! is it not our sins? What platted the crown of thorns, and drove those sharp spikes deep into his sacred head? Our selfish pride. What sent those nails through his hands and feet, fixing them to the tree of shame? Our wicked deeds and our wanderings from the path of duty. What parched his tongue with such burning thirst? Our shameless indulgence in drink. What pointed the spear of the impious Roman soldier, and hurled it deep into the Sacred Heart, whence issued the red torrent of the Precious Blood? Our inordinate appetites and sinful lusts. As often as we sin we crucify our dearest Lord afresh.
"Which of you shall convince me of sin?" What more could I have done for my vineyard which I have not done? I came down from heaven; took upon myself the form of a servant, the likeness of sinful flesh; set you a perfect example how you should walk; was led as a lamb to the slaughter; was scourged, spit upon, mangled, crucified; what could I have done more? Which of you shall convince me of sin? Which of you, my brethren? How many graces and blessings do you not owe to that crucified Lord? In how many sore temptations have you not been defended and strengthened? In how many bitter sorrows have you not been comforted? From how many shameful falls have you not been raised up? O Christian soul! for whom Christ died, look upon that bleeding, suffering, dying Saviour, and, if nothing else will move you, let those ghastly wounds, which your sins have made, plead with you. Acknowledge your transgressions: abase yourself in the very dust. Let that sacred Passion plead with you, that infinite love plead with you, that Precious Blood plead with you, those last tender words plead with you, and teach you, for their sake and your soul's sake, to love the Lord more dearly, to dread sin more effectually, and never, as long as you live, to add to that heavy burden by any wicked deed of yours.
So shall, a few days hence, the veil be lifted from the cross, and our sorrow be turned to joy, for when the Lord of Glory shall arise we too shall arise with him, and reign with him in glory for evermore.
Sermon LVIII.
Dangerous Companionship.
Walk circumspectly; not as unwise, but as wise.
—Ephesians. v. 15-16.
To-day, my dear brethren, I propose to make a few remarks on the dangerous occasions of impurity, so common in these times.
The danger of which I wish specially to speak is that which comes from the familiar acquaintance which now exists to such a great extent, and is taken so much as a matter of course, between young persons of different sexes. This undue familiarity is too common everywhere in this country; and more than anywhere else in a city like that in which we live. Young women here with us, even though they be Catholics, and good enough Catholics in some respects, seem to forget, or rather never to begin to realize, the laws of decorum and modesty which well-instructed persons, even though not professing to be specially religious, have hitherto rightly taken for granted.