This desire will do every thing, if it is strong and lively. Now, the desire to love God is a thing natural to the soul. How so? Why, thus. We naturally desire what is good—what will conduce to our interest, our pleasure or profit. We express this by the very word "desirable." As soon as we become acquainted with the value of any thing to us, we desire it, and our desire for it is in proportion to our appreciation of it. So a good name is more desired among noble-minded men than the possession of riches—a substantial wealth, more than the pleasure of the senses. Now, what is more desirable than God? To possess Him, is to possess all that is good, all that is beautiful, all that is honorable, all that makes happiness. As soon as we know, even imperfectly, what God is, a strong desire to possess Him must arise in the soul. It may be transitory, quickly fade away and lost sight of, through the things of the world which occupy the attention, but, whenever we reflect on it, that desire must—it is impossible that it should not—rise up in the soul. This transitory desire, which passes away like a vapor, is of little or no value; it does not last long enough to produce any practical impression. It is what is called a velleity, or ineffectual wish, if it is not nourished and made permanent, so as to influence one's life.
But since this desire to love God is natural to one who knows what He is, it must be, therefore, an excellent and easy means to acquire a high degree of that love. It is like the oar in the hands of the rower. It is like the wing by which a bird mounts high in the air. Why, as soon as this desire acquires force enough to control the will (and any strong desire is sure to do so), we cannot separate the desire to love God from the love of God itself. God does not measure our love to Him by our feelings, for we may seem to ourselves to have little, while our will shows that we love Him dearly. The trouble then with us, and I may say our only trouble is, that we do not enough desire to love Him; that we do not keep that desire bright and lively in our souls. Surely we have abundant reason for it! Besides the loveliness of God attracting us, our eternal destiny depends upon it—heaven and hell. Only let us turn over in our minds the vast importance of loving God, and we must be compelled to cry out with intense desire: "Oh, that I did love God with all my heart, with all my soul, with all my mind and strength!" I say, then, excite this desire; think, and think every day, on these simple things: Who am I? Who is God? What has God made me for? What is the world and all in it, compared to the love of God? Or, as the Gospel reads, "What shall it profit me to gain the whole world, if I suffer the loss of my soul?" Perhaps this fire of desire is almost out in your soul; but there is still fire there—there is one coal at least burning yet. Blow it into a flame! Keep on blowing, and that fire will be sure to spread, until the whole heap is in a blaze. You see, all that is required of you is to think, to reflect. Put your mind upon it with earnestness; and the desire of God must speedily gain the mastery of your soul. When it does so, it will regulate all its motions, and make every thing that was before so unnatural and difficult seem wonderfully easy.
Let us see how it would fare then with sin. Only keep that ardent desire to love God burning in your soul, and you will find it a very hard thing to commit any deliberate sin. It is a maxim in physical science that two bodies cannot occupy the same space at the same time. One must displace the other. So, I say, two strong desires, that are opposed to each other, cannot stay together in one heart. Either one or the other must give way and yield possession. So our Lord said long ago under cover of this comparison: "When a strong man armed keepeth his court, those things which he possesseth are in peace. But if one stronger than he cometh upon him and overcome him, he will take away all his armor wherein he trusted, and distribute his spoils." [Footnote 118]
[Footnote 118: St. Luke xi., 21, 22.]
The strong desire for God's love will take away from the desire for sin all its armor, all its strength, and leave it powerless to hurt us. It had a peaceable possession of the soul before, because nothing seriously disputed its right to govern, but now the desire to love God has made it hateful and loathsome. The strong man has become weak as an infant. When we fix our eyes on sin, perhaps its allurements, and the force of old habits, may make it so attractive, that it would gain the mastery once more. Certainly it would make a desperate struggle for the mastery. But let us look up to God! Let us consider how necessary, how desirable in every view is his love, until we become resolved that at least we will long for it, and continue longing for it, as long as life is long; saying with the royal Psalmist: "As the hart panteth after the fountains of water, so panteth my soul after thee, God." [Footnote 119]
[Footnote 119: Ps. xli. 1.]
[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is Ps. xlii. 2.]
Then will all those allurements and attractions of sin vanish. We shall only wonder how such miserable things could have blinded us so long.
We all know how strong and engrossing the passion of earthly love is. The lover is taken with some real or fancied perfection of his mistress, either a beautiful face, a noble figure, or, it may be, with what is far more to be prized, some noble qualities of the mind or disposition. His whole mind is taken up with her night and day, and his only study is, how he may recommend his suit. If encouraged with the prospect of success, transports of joy fill his soul; if met by neglect and indifference, he is plunged into the deepest melancholy. If parents or relatives put obstacles in the way, heaven and earth are moved to get them out of the way. This is the burden of so many novels and romances that are read with eagerness by people of every condition and every class of society. If the desire of earthly beauty, of body or soul, so imperfect, so unsatisfying, so short-lived, can thus engross the soul of man, why should not the desire of God's love, who is perfect beauty, perfect wisdom, perfect goodness, and our promised portion for ever and ever, be able to do far more? It will remove all obstacles out of the way. We shall say, as did St. Agnes to her admirer and tempter: "Depart from me thou food for death, for I am betrothed to Him whom the angels serve, whose beauty sun and moon admire." Every creature that breathes is food for death. Sin is the food of eternal death. The idea that mortal sin brings eternal death, eternal separations from this infinite beauty and goodness, must make us regard it with the same horror that fills the soul at the sight of a ferocious tiger or deadly serpent. It will make the occasions of sin hateful, and cause the soul to exclaim: "Away from me, ye frightful temptations! I know you: Ye bear the serpent's tongue and the tiger's claw. Ye carry with you the risk of God's anger and my eternal ruin." Who that loves God, or desires to love Him, could venture into any place, into the society of any person, where the danger of mortal sin is lurking, since he knows that mortal sin is banishment from God?