evangelize a new and strange people, she seeks, as soon as
possible, to secure some of the natives to aid her in her work,
who know the speech, and the manners, and the habits of thought,
of those with whom they have to deal. No doubt her old, tried
missionaries could furnish an instruction which would be more
complete in itself, but the words of the neophyte will be better
understood and received. So God, when He speaks to man, chooses
as His instrument one who understands the dialect of earth. An
angel would be a messenger answering better to His dignity, but
less to our necessities; so He considers our welfare alone, and
passes by Raphael, "who is one of the daily angels," and Michael,
"who is one of the chief princes," and Gabriel, who is the
_strength of God_, and chooses Moses, who was "slow of
speech," and Jeremias, who was diffident as a child, and Amos,
who was but a herdsman, following the flock--to utter His will to
man.
{375}
The human alloy in the Divine Word, no doubt, makes it less
accurate, but it makes it more easily understood. Oh! it is a
mercy of God thus to disguise Himself and dilute His word. The
children of Israel said to Moses: "_Speak thou to us, and we
will hear. Let not the Lord speak any more to us, lest we
die_." [Footnote 121] Who could look upon the Lord and live?
Who could listen to His voice in its untempered majesty and not
be afraid? "_The word of God is more penetrating than any
two-edged sword, reaching unto the division of the soul and the
spirit, of the joints also, and the marrow_." [Footnote 122]
[Footnote 121: Exod. xx. 19.]
[Footnote 122: Heb. iv. 12.]
Do not be displeased, then, because God has sent to thee a
messenger like thyself, one who speaks thy language, who shares
thy ignorance and thy frailties; pardon him, forgive him his
defects, strain your ear to detect in his lowly language some
notes of that great message of Eternal Truth and Infinite Love,
the story so old yet ever new--the love of Christ, the will of
God, the end of man, grace, holiness, and eternity, those things
on which depend our happiness here and our salvation hereafter.
But here I feel as if I ought to add a word or two of
explanation. When I say that the Holy Ghost teaches by the voice
of the preacher, I do not mean to assert that He teaches in no
other way. A very great part of the preacher's message consists
of truths which are already written by the finger of God on every
man's natural conscience. A preacher is not required to make us
understand that it is wrong to break the precepts of the moral
law. Natural reason, the light that enlighteneth every man that
comes into this world, tells us that. I could not but be struck
the other day, as I passed two young men in the street, at
hearing the honest protest with which one of them met the
sophistry in which his companion was evidently trying to
indoctrinate him: "What!" said he, "you don't mean to say it
isn't a sin to get drunk!"
{376}
Indeed, it is seldom that men justify themselves for actions that
are plainly wrong. They are still too full of the Holy Ghost for
that. Passion corrupts their will, but does not always darken
their understanding. They know the right while they pursue the
wrong. But this circumstance does not make the office of the
preacher unnecessary; by no means. On the contrary, it is from
this that the preacher derives a great part of his power. What he
says finds an echo in the hearts of his hearers. One of the
strongest things that St. Paul said in his defence before Agrippa
was the appeal: "_King Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I
know that thou believest_." [Footnote 123]
[Footnote 123: Acts xxvi. 27.]
And so when the preacher is speaking before a congregation, of
justice, of temperance, of judgment to come, do you know what it
is that gives him such boldness and daring? My brethren, I will
tell you a secret. Perhaps you may sometimes have felt surprise
when you have heard us, who have so many reasons for feeling
diffident before you, so keen in denouncing your sins, so
vehement in urging you to your duties. Are we not afraid of
wounding your pride, of alienating your affections? No: it is in
your hearts that we have our strength. We would not dare to speak
so unless we knew that we had a powerful ally in your
hearts--your better nature, your reason, your conscience, the
divinity that is within you. It is the greatest mistake in the
world to suppose that it is unnecessary to tell people what they
know already. Half the good advice that is given in the world
consists of the most commonplace and familiar truths, but will
anyone say for that reason that it is useless? No: the fact is,
it is a great help to hear our own convictions uttered outside of
us. A man believes more, is more conscious of his belief, his
belief becomes more distinct, more serviceable, when he hears it
from another's lips.
{377}
What a mercy of God it is, then, in a world like this, where
there are so many temptations, where there are so many evil
examples, so much to draw off the mind from God, where it is so
easy to obscure the line between right and wrong, that there
should be an authoritative voice lifted up from time to time in
warning! What a mercy, in those dreadful moments when the
conflict rages high between passion and principle, and the soul,
weary of the strife, is on the point of surrender, to be
re-enforced by God Almighty's aid--to hear His voice amid the
strife, saying: "_This is the way; walk ye in it!_"
[Footnote 124]
[Footnote 124: Isaiah xxx. 21.]
And then it must be remembered, too, that there is much of the
preacher's message that is not known to man's natural reason,
consisting of mysteries deep and high, which at the best can be
known only in part; and it is apparent how much it must depend on
the preacher's office to keep these mysteries in men's minds, and
to secure for them a place in men's intelligence and affections.
The Christian Faith has always, from the beginning, been
surrounded by adversaries who have attacked it, now on one side,
now on another. We are apt to think it our peculiar misfortune to
hear continually the doctrines of our faith disputed; but in fact
such has been, more or less, the trial of each generation of
Christian believers. Now, amid such ceaseless controversies, what
means has our Lord left to protect and defend His people from
doubt and error? The ministry of preaching. Therefore, says the
Holy Scripture: "_Some He gave to be Apostles, and some
prophets, and others evangelists, and others pastors and
teachers, that we may not now be children, tossed to and fro, and
carried about with every wind of doctrine, in the wickedness of
men, in craftiness by which they lie in wait to deceive._"
[Footnote 125]
[Footnote 125: Eph. xi. 11-14.]
{378}
It is the office of the preacher to declare Christian doctrine,
to defend and explain it, to show its consistency and excellence,
to answer objections against it, and thus to add to the power of
hereditary faith the force of personal conviction. The Church has
always understood this, and therefore, whenever a new heresy
arises, she sends out a new phalanx of preachers to confront it
by good and sound doctrine. And the enemies of the Church have
always understood it, and therefore, in times of persecution,
when they wished to deal the Christian faith a deadly blow, they
sought in the first place, by the murder of bishop and priest, to
silence the voice of the teacher. It was one of the last woes
threatened against Jerusalem that the people should seek in vain
for a vision of the prophet, and that the law should perish from
the priests; [Footnote 126] and when in the Christian Church
there shall be heard no more the message of truth, when there
shall be no more reproof, no more instruction in justice, the
iniquity shall come in like a flood; then shall be the
abomination of desolation, and the time of Antichrist.
[Footnote 126: Ezech. vii. 26.]
Great, then, my brethren, is the dignity of preaching. It is God
speaking on Mount Sinai. It is Jesus preaching on the Mount. It
is the Divine Sower scattering the seeds of truth and virtue. The
Holy Ghost has not left the world. In every Christian church, at
every Mass, the day of Pentecost is renewed. See, the priest has
clothed himself to celebrate the unbloody sacrifice. He has
ascended the altar. Already the clouds of incense hang over the
mercy-seat, and hymns of praise ascend;--but he stops, he turns
to the people. Why does he interrupt the Mass? Has he seen a
vision? Has an angel spoken to him, as of old to the prophet
Zacharias? Yes, he has seen a vision. He has heard a voice. A
fire is in his heart. A living coal hath touched his lips, the
Breath of the Spirit hath passed over him, and he speaks as he is
moved by the Holy Ghost. Listen to him, for he is a prophet. He
speaks to thee from God. What is thy misery? What is thy sorrow?
What is thy trial?
{379}
Now thou shalt find relief. Are you in doubt about religious
truth? Listen, and you shall find the answer to those doubts. Are
you sorely tempted to sin? Now God will give you an oracle to
strengthen you. Are you distressed and suffering? Have you a
secret sorrow? Now you shall receive an answer of comfort. Do you
wish to know how to advance in God's love? Now the way shall be
made plain before your face. O blessed truth! God has not left
Himself without a witness. The world is not to have it all its
own way. The teachings of Satan are not to go on all the week
uncontradicted. The dream of the heathen, that there are sacred
spots on earth whence Divine Oracles issue, is fulfilled. The
Chair of Truth is set up for the enlightenment of the nations.
"_The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light;
to them that dwelt in the region of the shadow of death light is
sprung up." "The earth is filled with the knowledge of the Lord,
as the waters cover the sea_." [Footnote 127]
[Footnote 127: Isaias ix. 2, 19.]
This subject suggests some very practical reflections. I am not
unmindful that some of them concern the preacher himself. I do
not forget that the thought of the high dignity of his office
calls for the greatest purity of purpose and diligence of
preparation; but while I remember this, suffer me also to remind
you of your duty in listening to the preacher. St. Paul praises
the Thessalonians because they listened to his words, not as the
words of man, but as the _words of God_. In the sense in
which the teaching of an uninspired man can be so designated,
have you thus listened to the preacher's words? Has it been a
task to you to listen to the sermon? Have you sought only to be
amused? Have you been critical and captious? Or, acknowledging
the truth you have heard, have you been careless about putting it
in practice? Oh, how much the preaching of God's word might
profit us, if we brought the right dispositions to the hearing of
it!
{380}
If we came to Church, eager to know more of God, with a single
heart desirous to nourish our souls with His Truth, what progress
we should make! A single sermon has before now converted men. St.
Anthony, hearing but a single text, embraced a saintly life. If
we had such dispositions, if each Sunday found us diligent
hearers of God's Word, anxious to get some new thoughts about
Him, some new motive to love Him, some new practical lesson, some
new help against sin, it would not be long before the effect
would be visible in us all. We should make progress in the
knowledge of our religion. The devil and the world would assail
us in vain. Scandals and sins would become rare. Heavenly virtues
would spring up. Piety would become strong and manly. And that
which the prophet describes would be fulfilled: "_The Lord will
fill thy soul with brightness. And thou shalt be like a
well-watered garden, and like a fountain of water, whose waters
shall not fail_." [Footnote 128]
[Footnote 128: Isaias lviii. 2.]
------------------------------
Sermon XVII.
The Two Wills In Man
(Fourth Sunday After Easter.)
"The spirit indeed is willing,
but the flesh is weak."
--St. Matt. XXVI. 41.
The word "flesh" here does not mean the body, but the lower or
sensitive part of the soul in which the fleshly appetites reside.
Our Lord is warning St. Peter of the necessity of prayer in order
to meet the temptation which was coming upon him, and He tells
him not to trust to the willingness of his spirit, that is, his
good intentions and resolutions, because he had an inferior
nature which might easily be excited to evil, and which in the
hour of temptation might, without a special grace of God, drag
his will into sin.
{381}
What our Lord is declaring, then, is the fact attested by
universal experience, that there are in the heart of man two
conflicting principles--inordinate passion on one side, and
reason and grace on the other. This truth, though so well known,
touches our happiness and salvation too closely not to possess at
all times an interest and importance for each one of us; and I
propose, therefore, to make it the subject of my remarks this
morning.
In the first place, then, what is the source and nature of the
conflict thus indicated by our Lord? Whence does it arise? How
does it come to pass that there are those two principles within
us? How does it happen that every child of man finds himself
drawn, more or less, two contrary ways, toward virtue and toward
vice, toward God and toward the devil, toward Heaven and to-ward
Hell? The answer commonly given is, that this conflict we feel
within us comes from the fall, that it is the fruit of original
sin. But the fall, according to the Catholic doctrine, introduced
no new principle into our nature, infused no poison into it, and
deprived it of none of its essential elements. We must look
farther back, then, than the fall for the radical source of this
conflict; and we find it in the very essential constitution of
our nature. Man, in his very nature, is twofold. He is created
and finite, yet he has a divine and eternal destiny. He has a
body and a soul, and therefore he must have all the passions
which are necessary to his animal and sensible life, as well as
the intellectual and moral powers which are necessary to his
spiritual life. Here, then, we have, in the very idea of man's
nature, the possibility of a conflict. We have two different
principles, which it is conceivable might come into collision.
Man's appetites and passions, no less than his reason, are given
to him by God, are good, are necessary, but since his appetites
and passions are blind principles, it is conceivable that they
_might_ demand gratifications which would not be in
accordance with his reason and spiritual nature.
{382}
As human nature was at first constituted by the Almighty, any
actual collision between these parts was prevented by a gift,
which is called "the gift of integrity," a gift which was no
essential part of our nature, but was conferred on it by mere
grace, and which bound together the various powers of the soul in
a wondrous harmony, so that the movements of passion were always
in submission to reason. When Adam sinned, this grace was
withdrawn from him; and since it was no necessary part of our
nature, since it was given of mere grace, it was withdrawn from
the whole human race. Hence men now find in themselves an actual
conflict between the higher and lower parts of the soul. In a
complicated piece of machinery, if a bolt or belt is broken that
bound it together, the parts clash. Each part may in itself
remain unchanged, but it no longer acts harmoniously with the
other parts. So in fallen man, the bolt that braced the soul
together is broken, and the powers of the soul clash together.
The passions, the will, the reason, all, in themselves, remain as
they were, undepraved; but they are no longer in harmony
together, and man finds himself weakened by an intestine
conflict. This, together with the loss of supernatural grace and
a supernatural destiny, is the evil which, according to Catholic
theology, accrued to man by the fall.
This conflict, then, which we find within us; this clamor of the
lower nature against the higher; this propensity of the passions
to rebel against reason--in other words, this proneness to sin,
which is the universal experience of humanity, does not prove
that we have lost any constituent part of our nature, that there
is any thing positively vicious in us, nor does it prove that we
are hateful to God. It proves, indeed, that we are not divine,
that we are not angels, that we are not in the condition of human
nature before Adam's transgression; it proves that a source of
weakness, inherent in our nature, has been developed by the fall,
that we need grace; but it gives not the slightest reason for
supposing that our manhood has been wrecked, that the will is not
free, that the reason of man has been extinguished, or that the
passions are not in themselves good, and have not their
legitimate sphere and exercise.
{383}
So true is this, that this propensity to sin remains even in the
baptized. Baptism does a great deal for a man. It takes away
original sin, by supplying that justifying grace which our race
forfeited in Adam. It restores to man his supernatural destiny.
In the language of the Council of Trent, it renders the
newly-baptized "innocent, immaculate, pure, harmless, and beloved
of God, an heir of God, and a joint heir with Christ, so that
there is nothing whatever to retard his entrance into heaven."
But there is one thing it does not do. It does not remove the
propensity of the passions to rebel. And the Council uses this
fact--that concupiscence remains in the baptized--to prove that
concupiscence, or the propensity to evil, cannot itself be sin;
and enforces its conclusion by the seal of its infallibility and
the warrant of its censures, saying: "If anyone is of the
contrary sentiment" (that is, declares that the incentive to sin,
which remains in the baptized, hath in it the true and proper
nature of sin), "let him be anathema." [Footnote 129]
[Footnote 129: Sess. V. Decree on Original Sin.]
Thus, Christianity explains the origin of this conflict in the
human heart, in a manner agreeable to reason and human
experience. But it does more. It reveals to us the purpose of
this conflict. Why does our Lord leave us subject to this strife?
The same holy Council I have quoted already, answers distinctly;
this incentive to sin is left in the soul "_to be wrestled
with_." The state of the case is this: The passions desire to
be gratified without waiting for the sanction of reason,
sometimes even in defiance of reason. Morally speaking, this is
no evil. The passions are but blind instincts; it is the province
of the will to restrain them in their proper limits, and to help
her in this work she has reason and the grace of God.
{384}
If she fails to do her work, then she sins. Whenever sin is
committed, it is the will that commits it. It is only the will
that can sin. The sin lies not in the inordinate desire, but in
the will's not resisting that desire. The will is the viceroy of
God in the heart, appointed to keep that kingdom in peace. And
herein lies the root of Christian morality, the secret of
sanctification, and the essence of human probation. We speak of
outward actions of sin; but all sin goes back to the will. There
was the treason. "_Out of the heart_," says our Blessed
Lord, "_proceed murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts,
false testimonies, blasphemies_." [Footnote 130]
[Footnote 130: St. Matt. xv. 19.]
Each black deed is done in the secret chamber of the heart before
the hand proceeds to execute it. Each false, impure, and
blasphemous word is whispered first by the will before the lips
utter it. Yes, man's heart is the battle-field. There is the
scene of action. We speak sometimes of a man's being alone or
being idle: why, a man is never alone; never idle. He may,
indeed, be silent, his hands may be still, no one may be near
him; but in that kingdom within great events are going on all the
time. Angels and saints are there. The armies of Heaven and the
armies of Hell meet there. Attack and repulse, parley and
defiance, truce and surrender, stratagem and treason, victory and
defeat--are things of daily occurrence there.
Of course, this is all very well known, very simple, very
elementary, but yet there are some who never seem to understand
it. They do not understand it who confound temptation with sin.
This is a mistake often made, and by those too who ought to know
better. If a man feels a strong inclination to evil, if an evil
thought passes through his mind, or a doubt against the faith
assails him, immediately he imagines that he has fallen under
God's displeasure.
{385}
To state such an error is to refute it. Never, my brethren, fall
in to this mistake. No: between temptation and sin there lies all
that gulf that separates Heaven from Hell. Let the devil fill
your mind with the most horrid thoughts, let all your lower
nature be in rebellion, let you have temptations to unbelief, to
despair, to blasphemy; yet if that queenly will of yours keeps
her place, if she stand steadfast and immovable, not only have
you not sinned, but you are purer, more spiritual, more full of
faith and reverence than if you had had no such trial. When St.
Agnes was before the heathen judge, he ordered her to be sent to
the stews and thrown among harlots, but she answered: "I shall
come out of that place virgin as I entered it." Yes, all the
powers of earth and hell cannot make a resolute soul commit a
single sin. It is said that the walls of that house of
prostitution, to which the holy maiden was condemned, still
stand, and form the walls of a church dedicated in her honor--a
visible proof how the soul, faithful to itself and God, turns the
very means and instruments of its temptations into trophies of
its most magnificent victories.
Nor do those understand the nature of the Christian conflict who
make strong passions the pretext for the neglect of religious
duties. There are such. Their hearts are too tumultuous, their
passions too strong, their virtue too weak, their circumstances
too difficult; and they must wait till they become more composed,
calmer, more devout, until religion becomes more natural to them.
Error, dangerous as common! I tell you, Christianity takes hold
of every man just as he is, and just where he is, and claims him.
No doubt, a quiet temper, a tranquil disposition, a devout
spirit, are valuable gifts, but the root of religion does not lie
in them, but in the will. That is it. God never intended religion
to be confined to the passive and gentle, and to be neglected by
the strong and impulsive. You, young man of pleasure; you, man of
business and enterprise; you, proud and worldly man; you,
passionate woman, with your wild and wayward nature, God, this
day, here and now challenges you: "Why are you not working with
Me, and for Me? Why are you not religious?"
{386}
"Me!" you say, "it is impossible. I am sensual and avaricious, I
am selfish and revengeful, I am full of hatred and jealousy, I am
worldly to the heart's core." No matter: you know what is right;
are you willing to do it? "Oh! I cannot. I do not love God. My
heart is cold." No matter: are you willing to serve God with a
cold heart? That is the question. "I cannot, I cannot. I have no
faith. I cannot pray. I have not a particle of spirituality.
Religion is wearisome to me, and strange. It is as much as I can
do to stay through a High Mass." No matter, I say once more. Do
you want to have faith? Are you willing to practise what you do
believe? Then if you are, begin your work here and now. You
cannot be of so rough a nature that Christ will reject you. No
matter who you are and what you are, no matter what your trials
have been, and what your past life, if you are a man, with a
human heart, with human reason and a human will, Christ calls you
by your name, and points out a way that will lead you to peace
and heaven.