I have referred to the flag of the country; of its being raised, and how a look at it, or a salute, powerfully expresses at once the most important emotions and lively enthusiasm. Well, we do the same through the Christian's glorious standard, which is the sacred symbol of the cross. Be it of wood or of the most precious metal—be it the production of the most unskilful or the most cunning workman—it is for us the symbol of man's redemption, and around it cluster our most tender feelings of veneration and love. It is placed over our altars, over our churches; it hangs in our rooms; where Catholic feelings can save it from insult, it is raised up in the highways, and is made to meet our eyes wherever we turn. We impress its form on our persons whenever we call on God in prayer, whenever we find ourselves exposed to temptation or danger. In that one act the faith, the hope, the love of the church for Christ and Christ crucified, are all expressed. All these feelings are imbedded in it. All are called out again whenever that sign is made. What we have heard of him from the pulpit, what we have read in our private study, what has occurred, to our own minds in meditation, is all brought before us with the accompanying sentiments and feelings as soon as that sacred symbol presents itself to our eyes. All are a wakened, are revived, and seized again at its glance. No wonder, then, that the Catholic loves the cross; that he loves to prostrate himself in adoration before it; that he looks to it when he seeks consolation in suffering, support in affliction, light in his difficulties, purity of spirit in his joys. Do not tell me that it is of lifeless wood or of metal, that it is but the work of the craftsman, Oh! this is like stopping the soldier in battle, to direct his attention to the price per yard of his flag, or to the name and address of the store where it was bought, while he is advancing enthusiastically under its inspiration against his country's foes. Yes; who does not know that it is of wood or metal? but to me it is the symbol of my Saviour's love. As such, I love it; as such all my most sacred feelings cling around it: I impress kisses on it; I bathe it with my tears. And when, on Good Friday, the priest after bringing before us the whole scene of Calvary, having led us, in the service, to look on the death of Christ' as the great turning-point in the world's history, having shown us the woes of the past that were there to find a remedy, and the blessings for the future that were thence to spring forth, holds up the crucifix before the prostrate multitude, and sings out, in a solemn tone, "Ecce lignum Crucis," "Behold the wood of the cross on which did hang the salvation of the world," will we not all send up our whole souls in the deacon's answer, crying out, with him, "Venite adoremus," "Come, let us adore"? And when the priest looses his shoes, and on bare feet approaches the sacred symbol of redemption, that he may kneel down and kiss it with fondness, on the anniversary of the day on which the tragic scene was enacted; who is there that will not vie with him in kneeling and pressing the sacred symbol to his lips?
The same thing can be applied in different degrees to the various rites throughout the year, when succeeding festivals bring before us the other great mysteries of religion, or when we are called on to express the ordinary feelings of Christian devotion. He who has studied the simple devotions of the rosary, or the way of the cross, will be astonished at the mine of devotion, of enlightened piety contained in them, and at the treasures that are drawn from them by faithful souls, simple and unpretending as they are, and puerile as they appear to the self-sufficient.
But these acts and exercises intended to express and nourish our Christian feelings, can only be appreciated where there is faith. It is only into [{728}] hearts animated by faith that they can enter. It is only in such they can be aroused. A certain amount of instruction is even necessary to understand the conventional meaning of many. This instruction and training is received by the Catholic almost with his mother's milk. As he learns the meaning of words, which is still more arbitrary, and acquires a practical skill in the use of language, notwithstanding its complicated laws, so he learns the meaning of the ceremonial, and is initiated into its use. With clasped hands the child kneels before the crucifix, and imprints kisses on it. Little by little he learns the history of him whose figure is nailed to that cross, and knowledge grows in him with reverence and love. He goes to the church, and is struck with what he beholds. He catches reverence from those around, and infuses it into his own imitation of their mode of acting. As he learns more and more of what is there done, this reverence becomes more and more enlightened, and he grows up a devout and enlightened Christian, performing the acts expressive of worship with the same ease and intelligence with which he uses the ordinary expressions of social life. The looker-on who is without faith or instruction, who has no sympathy, and wishes to have no sympathy, with him, thinks his acts a mummery, if he do not give them a harsher name. Such a person may be compared to one who has no ear for music, to whom the enthusiasm of those who are aroused by a beautiful composition is incomprehensible; or to one who listens to an eloquent discourse in a tongue which he does not, and cares not to understand; or he is like Michol, who laughs at David dancing before the ark, because she has no sympathy with his jubilant gratitude. The Catholic ceremonial is made for Catholics. If it enable them to express and strengthen their reverence, it answers its purpose. Those who have no such feelings to be awakened cannot be surprised if it strike them without producing emotion. The ceremonial is useful, not only as an expression of feeling, it is eminently instructive and educational, if I may use the expression, by instilling and developing both the knowledge and the devotion it is intended to express. While it teaches, it leads to act in accordance with the teaching; properly performed it is itself such action. It thus instils truth into the mind, and shapes the heart in accordance with it, which is the highest aim of the best education.
Some are pleased to look upon the mass of our people as very ignorant in matters of religion. If by this it be meant to say, that all are not experts in quoting texts of scripture; that they know nothing of many controversies that appear of great importance to our separated brethren; that they do not understand the meaning of many phrases that have become households words amongst them, though, sometimes, I fear, passing round without any very, definite meaning, I am willing to acknowledge the charge. But if it be meant to say that they are ignorant of those great facts and truths of religion which it is necessary or important for men to know, I repudiate it most solemnly. Nay, I contend that there is a better knowledge of these amongst many or most Catholics who can neither read nor write, if they have only followed in the paths where the church led them, than amongst many of our opponents who are considered learned theologians; and this they owe chiefly to this very ceremonial of which I am treating. They may know nothing of Greek particles, or of many other things good enough and useful in their place, but which God has not required anyone to learn; but they know that the incarnate God died for the salvation of man. They know the mystery of the Trinity, which is implied in that of the incarnation. They know the sinful character of man, their need of such a Redeemer. They are led to thank him, to love him, to [{729}] obey him. They know his sufferings, one by one; they are familiar with his thorns and his nails; they have pondered over his wounds and mangled flesh; they penetrate into the side pierced for their love. He who knows even this much is not ignorant. Yet all this, and, much more, is familiar to every one accustomed to look with faith on the crucifix. He sees in the face of the crucified One patience, resignation, compassion for sinners, love even for his enemies. He sees the consequences of sin, and he beholds their remedy. Looking on this, the Catholic finds support in his trials or afflictions and moderation in his joy. Show me the volume he could ponder over and learn as much. All that he heard at his mother's knee and from the preacher's lips is brought before him in a single glance at his crucifix. All is brought up again when he makes the sign of the cross. Yet the cross, so fraught with instruction and moving appeals, is that which is presented to him a thousand times in the rites of the church, inasmuch as it is the great pervading principle that must animate all his devotion and all his actions. It is brought before him, not in a cold way, merely teaching him a lesson. He is taught to know and to believe; he is led to adore and to confide; he is brought to invoke through it all the graces of which he stands in need. All this is done every time that he makes the sign of the cross, pronouncing the blessed words, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost."
While many of your learned expounders of scripture are comparing text with text on these subjects, trying to remove, but scarcely removing the doubts which they know to exist among their hearers, which they feel, perhaps, rising up in their own breasts, or what is worse while they are proposing theories in a Christian pulpit which make nought the cross of Christ and the mystery of redemption as ever taught in the Christian family, the poor Catholic, on whom they look with contempt, is making his starting point what others are but trying to prove, and while signing himself with the cross, believing, adoring, penetrating into the depths of the love of the incarnate God, and endeavoring to shape his own soul into conformity with its teachings. And you call him ignorant. Indeed, a pure though simple faith, among these people enables them to see the great truths of religion with a clearness that supplies frequently an apt reply to difficulties that seem very embarrassing to their opponents.
Yet, this is the first lesson that the Catholic child learns at his mother's knee, As he goes on, he learns more and more of God's works of mercy toward man, of his institutions for our salvation and our sanctification, and all he learns he sees reproduced in a glance in the ceremonial of the church, which speaks to him in accents more and more eloquent, as his knowledge expands and his heart is brought more fully into conformity with God's holy teachings. In the liturgy and the various other rites of the church, she has enshrined all the great dogmas of religion. There she teaches them, there she keeps them beyond the reach of the innovator. The priest himself, the bishop, and the pope, there see them inculcated, and from thence, as from a rich treasury, draw them out to present them to the faithful. This teaching by rites in use from the beginning of the church, addresses itself to all with power, for in it they find the teaching of the saints and the sages of by-gone ages, and feel themselves breathing the same atmosphere with them. The martyrs, who bore testimony to their faith with their blood, the apostolic men, who by their preaching, their labors, and their prayers, brought nations to the knowledge of Christ, the holy confessors and virgins, who, in frail vessels, showed forth his power in every age, practised these same rites, and were therefore animated by the same faith. The church, throughout the whole world, uses them, and therefore believes as we do. What [{730}] more powerful for bringing home to each one the faith of the universal, everlasting church!
There is great security for the faith of a Catholic in his receiving it through the teaching of a pastor in communion with the church of the whole world, and sanctioned by its highest authority; but I would venture to say that there is something even more solemn in this voice of the ceremonial, which is a voice of the living and the dead—of the church of the Catacombs, and of the church of this day—throughout the world. With all the force which this gives, leaning as the church does upon Christ, who died to sanctify her in truth, we are taught the great dogmas of the Trinity and the Incarnation; of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ; the plan and means of the redemption, the need in which we stand of divine grace, and the means of obtaining it. We are taught the character of the great Christian oblation, the nature and effects of the sacraments, as well as the dispositions they require, and the duties they impose.
Far be it from me to undervalue the oral teaching of the ministry. That found in the ceremonial presupposes it, and is based on it. Both are, as they should be, combined in the ministrations of the church; but the ceremonial fixes the oral teaching. It gives the Christian system a body, as it were, in which it enables it to prolong its life beyond the moments of the passing voice. When once embodied in a rite, the impressions of oral instruction, which otherwise so easily pass away, live for ever. They are seized in their whole entirety at a glance; they are brought down to the comprehension of the lowest; they are put forth with a majesty that the highest may admire. Men are taught there, and, what is most important they are led to act on the teaching, and thus conform their hearts as well as their minds, to the holy dogmas of faith, which is the best and most useful way of imparting Christian instruction. But I will be told that this teaching, however useful for those who understand it, is lost for the great mass of the people, as the language used is a dead one, which few understand. But, in the first place, it is not lost, even though the clergy alone should understand it. Is it not an important thing that the clergy themselves should have something to keep alive powerfully, amongst them the one, universal and everlasting faith? Will not all the faithful find strength in their strength, and light in their light? If they are kept right, the truth spread abroad by them will easily he preserved pure among the masses of the people. Almost all heresies—be it said to our shame—either had their source in the sanctuary, or could not have succeeded if they had not found support there. And is it not a great thing that he who would become a prevaricator, must first brand himself as unfaithful, must cease to minister today, all he did yesterday, and thus give public notice, as it were, that he seeks to devour the flock which he had undertaken to feed; that instead of keeping the deposit which was the first duty of his office, as dispenser of the mysteries of God, he is substituting some new-fangled theory of his own, palming it off as an institution of heaven? Luther can establish a new system only by ceasing to say mass. The church of Cranmer is not at ease until it has formed for itself a new liturgy. The Greeks and other orientals by preserving their ancient rites and ceremonies, have preserved almost all their ancient dogmas, and to re-enter the church have little else to do but to submit to the authority of its supreme pastor. But apart from this, the ceremonial itself speaks to all the people in a language which all understand. The rites are themselves a language easily learned, and speaking with silent eloquence to men of every tongue. They are to some extent what the learned have been so long looking for, a universal language. In fact, when the priest raises up the host, the Irishman and the German, the Greek and the Armenian, see the presence of Christ [{731}] preached to them, and they kneel down and adore. When the water is poured on the head of the child that is baptized, men of every clime know that the regenerating rite is being performed. The rite once properly explained ever after expresses to them better than any combination of words, the internal change that is effected in the soul. Then, it must be remembered that the main thing in the public service is what is done, not what is said. Every moderately instructed Catholic is fully aware of what there takes place, and with this knowledge he can assist, not only devoutly but intelligently, though he may not understand or even hear one word.
The great source of mistake, in this connection, with our separated brethren, arises from the fact that they go to church merely to hear instruction, or to have words put into their mouths, in which to address Almighty God. The Catholic also often goes for instruction, and this he receives in the language which he understands. But he goes for what is even more important—he goes to take a part in the great act that is performed in God's holy temple. He knows the nature and ends of this, and the dispositions required of him, and as I said before, he can perform his part though he may not even hear, much less understand one word that is pronounced. I will suppose a case of the surrender of a large army. The vanquished soldiers march to the place appointed. They lay down their arms, they lower their flag. The victorious general, with his warriors, stands, by and receives them. A speech perhaps is made. But all who are present take an intelligent part in the Proceedings, though many may not hear one word that is uttered. So it is with the great action at mass. I will not have recourse to the common reply, that all that the priest says at the altar is translated and published; that any one who desires may read and know for himself; for though the fact be true, it is not the true solution of the difficulty. I have no hesitation in saying that in assisting at the most solemn part of the celebration of the divine mysteries, it is best not to attend to the particular prayers recited by the priest, whether one hear them or not whether he be or be not capable of understanding them. It is better to assist with an enlightened faith in the action that is performed, and then give full play to such sentiments as this faith will awaken in each individual soul. This is evidently the view of the church. For this reason, after the offertory, that is, when the most important portion begins, the priest is made to recite almost all his part of the liturgy in a low tone, so that those present cannot hear him even if they be capable of understanding what he says. Among the Greeks a curtain is drawn across the sanctuary, so that they cannot even see him, but merely know by some signals, if I may so call them, given from time to time, in what part of the sacred act he is engaged.
The church, by, this evidently tells us, that by an assistance in faith, each one yielding to the promptings of his own devotion will derive more profit than by following the priest's words. Indeed, the parts of the priest and people in this sacred act are so essentially different, that it is scarcely to be expected that the same prayers should be best for both. While the church has minutely arranged the rites and prayers used by him who offers the sacrifice, she is satisfied with awakening the faith and enlightening the devotion of others who assist: and then leaving it to their enlightened faith what each shall say to God on such occasions. She acts like the master of the house, who prepares the banquet, where each guest finds abundance of everything agreeable to the palate, and nourishing to the body. With great care he has prescribed the parts of those who are occupied in preparing or serving it up, so that all present may receive substantial proofs of his interest; but when, this is done, he [{732}] leaves the invited to partake of what is prepared, as their own tastes will prompt. It is thus that the Catholic system, which is accused of tying men down to a performance of mere routine, is that which really gives more scope to individual liberty in public worship, while public decorum and dignity are effectually secured by an established ritual. With your extempore prayers, he who utters them has indeed full scope for his feeling and his fancy, but he is liable also to their vagaries, and his hearers are at his mercy. As he weeps or rejoices, all must weep or rejoice, or he becomes to them a hindrance. Their hearts move or try to move, not as the spirit, but as the leader willeth, and not unfrequently may he lend them into paths from which their instincts will recoil. They, whose whole time is engaged in following a prescribed liturgy, must ever go on in the same groove. Whatever be the feelings or the wants or the temper of mind of each individual habitually or at the moment, the same unchanging road is chalked out for all. What they hear may be beautiful, but it may be far from being the best suited for many at that moment. Hence disgust or cold indifference is sure to follow, of which beautiful forms may be only a pompous covering. Amongst Catholics on the other hand, while the church to secure order and truth and public decorum, has carefully regulated every word and act of the priest, and presents in the celebration of the divine mysteries the most powerful incentive to faith and devotion in all its bearings, she leaves each one else who is present to assist as his own wants and dispositions may prompt.