But some one may make an objection to my doctrine that certainty

about truth is the result only of the Catholic principle of

faith, and say: "You do not mean to assert that Protestants have

no faith at all?" A Protestant may say to me: "I acknowledge that

we have among us a great deal of disunion, and a great deal of

doubt, but after all there are some things that are believed by

some of us, that are believed without doubt, and you will not

deny it." No, I will not deny it. I am glad to think that it is

true. But how did you come by that belief? You did not come by it

on the principle of Protestantism. The truth is, that principle

never has been, and never can be carried out. Thank God, it is

so. Utter unbelief would be the consequence. You have a child--a

child that you love dearly. Will you wait, as your Protestantism

requires you to do, till he is grown up, for him to form his

religious convictions? No; if you love him, you will not. Your

heart will teach you a better wisdom. You will tell him about

God, you will tell him Who Christ is, and what He has done for

him. You will tell him these things not doubtingly, not as if he

was to suspend his judgment on them, but as true, and as to be

believed then and there. And as he looks up at you out of his

trusting eyes, he believes you. But how does he believe you? On

the principle of a Protestant, or a Catholic? On the principle of

private judgment, or on faith in an infallible authority? Surely

it is as a Catholic he believes? You represent to him the Great

Teacher, and his childish soul, in listening to you, hears the

voice of God, performs a great act of religion, and does his

first act of homage to Truth. His nature prompts him to believe

you. Perhaps he is baptized, and then there is a grace in his

heart which secretly inclines him the more to credit you, and he

believes without doubting. He is a Catholic.

{425}

Yes, my brethren, there is many a child of Protestant parents who

is a Catholic--a Catholic, that is, in all but the name, and the

fulness of instruction, and the richness of privilege. He may

grow up in this way, perhaps continue all his life in this

childish faith and trust. I will not say it may not be so. But

let his reason fully awaken. Let him honestly go down to the

foundation of his faith and see on what it rests, and then let

him remain a Protestant, and retain his undoubting assurance if

he can. He cannot--a crisis in his history has come. The sun has

arisen with its living heat. The flower begins to wither. It must

be transplanted or it will die. One of three things will happen:

either the man, finding that he has not learned all that the

Great Teacher has revealed, will go on to accept the rest and

will become a Catholic; or he will learn to doubt what he has

received already and become a sceptic; or he will stick to the

creed he has received from his fathers or picked up for himself,

and doggedly refuse to add to it, thus rendering himself at the

same moment amenable in the Court of Reason for unreasonableness

in what he holds, and in the Court of Faith for unbelief in what

he rejects. So true it is that all the faith there is in the

world is naturally allied to Catholicity. If men were perfectly

reasonable and consistent, there would be only two parties in the

religious world. Protestantism would disappear. On the one side

would be faith, certainty, Catholicity; on the other, doubt and

unbelief.

Nor is this all. The Catholic has not only a certain means of

arriving at the knowledge of God's Faith, but he has also the

sure means of knowing what he is bound to _do_ in order to

[obtain] salvation. Christianity is a supernatural religion, and

therefore it suggests many questions to which natural reason

cannot give the answer. By what means can I be united to Christ?

Suppose I am in mortal sin, how can I be forgiven?

{426}

What are the precise obligations binding on me as a Christian?

Now, how distinctly, how promptly were such questions answered in

the time of the Apostles! When St. Paul came to Ananias to know

what he was to do, the answer was given to him: "Arise, and be

baptized, and wash away thy sins." In the same way in the

Catholic Church of this day, when a convert asks the same

question, he gets the same answer: Seek in faith and repentance

the cleansing of baptism, and thou shalt be joined unto Christ.

Dost thou wish to know the life thou must practise? It is written

in the ten commandments and the precepts of the Church. Dost thou

wish to know where thou wilt gain strength to keep these laws? In

prayer and the sacraments. The Church tells you how many there

are, what is their efficacy, and the conditions of their saving

operation. Art thou in sin after baptism? Dost thou ask the way

back to God? The Church tells thee that sorrow for sin is the way

back, and that this sorrow, when it is completed by confession,

and accepted by the absolution of the priest, has a sacramental

efficacy. So precise are the answers of Catholicity to the

important practical questions of Christianity; and the authority

which, I have already said, attaches to her words, gives ease and

certainty to the conscience. But how different is all this in

Protestantism! How various the answers given to these questions

by the different sects! Nay, how contradictory sometimes the

answers given in the same sect! It would be odious to go into

particulars on this subject, but I say what I know when I affirm

that an intelligent Protestant cannot have faith in his Church,

if he would; he may adopt a set of opinions and associate with

those who hold them, but he cannot have faith in his Church as a

Church. It is not long since an intelligent member of one of the

most enlightened Protestant denominations told me that the

members of that Church did not seem to be satisfied with it, only

they did not know whether there was any other Church in the world

that would satisfy them.

{427}

I say what I know when I affirm that there are young children in

Protestant Churches who weep because they are told that God hates

them, and they do not know how to gain His love. That there are

numbers of young men, full of generous and noble thoughts and

impulses, who are utterly destitute of any fixed Christian

belief; who say they would like to believe, but they cannot. That

there are multitudes and multitudes who die in this land, who die

without one single Christian act, and many who submit at their

last hour to take part in such acts at the request of friends,

and on the chance that there may be some good in them. That there

are some who openly lament that they were not born Catholics,

that they might have had faith; some who rise in the night to cry

to God out of the hopeless darkness that surrounds them; some

who, in despair of seeing God with an intelligent faith, take up

a substitute, the best of all, it is true, but still very

insufficient--works of benevolence and philanthropy, and the

beauties of a merely moral life; some who would welcome death

itself if it would but remove their agony of doubt.

I do not say these things, my Protestant friends, if any such are

present, to mock your miseries. Far from it. I know you too well.

I love you too much. I say these things to lead you to truth and

peace. I call to you struggling with the waves, from the rock

whereon our feet have found a resting-place. I speak to you to

the same effect as Christ spoke to the woman at the well of

Jacob, who was a member of the schismatical Samaritan Church. You

worship you know not what. We know what we worship; for salvation

is of the Jews. You know not what you worship. Your religion is

at the best one of doubt and uncertainty. We know what we

worship. We are certain we are right, for salvation is of us. We

are the Israelites. To us belongeth the adoption of children, and

the glory, and the covenant, and the giving of the law, and the

service of God, and the promises.

{428}

This is the mountain of the Lord established in the last days on

the top of the mountains, and exalted above the hills, into which

the nations flow. O you who know not this home of peace, God did

not make you to be as you are, to be tossed to and fro and

carried about with every wind of doctrine, to follow blind

guides, to give your money for that which is not bread, and your

labor for that which satisfieth not. No, come with us and be

happy. Come with us and be blessed. Come, let us go the mountain

of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob, and He will

teach us His ways, and we will walk in His paths, for the law

shall come forth from Sion, and the word of the Lord from

Jerusalem. Incline your ear unto me and you shall live--the life

of faith--the life of certainty and hope. You shall go out with

joy and be led forth with peace. Instead of the shrub shall come

up the fir tree: and instead of the nettle shall come up the

myrtle tree. All nature shall sympathise in your happiness. The

mountains and hills shall break forth into singing before you,

and all the trees of the country shall clap their hands.

And you, my dear Catholics, be not indifferent to the graces God

has given you, nor slothful in their use. You have it your power

to make sure your salvation. About the means there is no

uncertainty. They are infallible. It is of the Catholic Church

that the prophet spoke when he said: "_A path shall be there,

and a way, and it shall be called a holy way, and this shall be

unto you a straight way, so that even fools shall not err

therein_." [Footnote 172] And again: "_This saith the Lord

God: I will lay a stone in the foundation of Sion, a tried stone,

a corner-stone, a precious stone, founded in the foundation_."

[Footnote 173]

[Footnote 172: Isai. xxxv. 8.]

[Footnote 173: Ibid. xxviii. 16.]

{429}

A way to heaven in this dark, uncertain world! a straight, a

sure, a certain way! A rock under our feet under this swelling

sea! O my brethren, what blessings are these! Let them not be in

vain. Be not found at the last day with your lights gone out! The

just shall live by faith. Live by yours. Do you wish to advance

in a good life? Your faith tells you how. Does sin wage a war

against you? Your faith tells you how to meet the combat. Are you

in sin? Your faith tells you how to be forgiven. Correspond,

then, honestly with this faith, and you may enjoy a firm hope of

heaven, a hope not based on excited feelings, not claiming to be

a direct inspiration from on high, but a reasonable hope, that

will stay by you in adversity, and support you at the hour of

death. Claim, then, your privilege. Assert the freedom wherewith

Christ has made you free. Be not troubled or anxious all your

days. Do your part, act up to your Catholic conscience, then lift

up your heads, eat your bread with joy, and let your garments be

always white, for God now accepteth your works. In this is the

love of God perfected in us, that we may have confidence in the

day of judgment. "_Wherefore, be ye steadfast, unmovable,

always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know

that your labor is not in vain in the Lord_." [Footnote 174]

[Footnote 174: I. Cor. xv. 58.]

----------------------------------

Sermon XXII.

The Presence Of God.

(Fifth Sunday After Pentecost.)

"Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not.

How terrible is this place;

this is no other than the house of God and the gate of heaven."

--Gen XVIII. 16,17.

These words were spoken by the Patriarch Jacob when he was

journeying to Syria to visit his uncle. He had stopped for the

night at a place which was afterward called Bethel, and as he lay

on the ground with a stone for his pillow, the Lord appeared to

him in a vision, and blessed him, and foretold his future

greatness and increase.

{430}

Then, penetrated with a sense of the nearness and greatness of

God, with whom he had been conversing, he rose up and exclaimed:

"Indeed the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not." And

trembling, he said: "How terrible is this place; this is no other

than the house of God, and the gate of heaven." Now, my brethren,

we may make every morning and every night a similar declaration.

Wherever we are, we may say: "Indeed the Lord is in this place."

Every spot on earth, on which a man tarries for a moment, becomes

the house of God, and the gate of heaven. You understand what I

mean. I am speaking of the omnipresence of God. Reason and faith

both proclaim to us this great truth of the universal presence of

God. He is present by His immensity to all creatures in the

universe, whether living or inanimate. When God created the

world, He did not leave it to itself. He sustains it by His

presence and power, and it is in Him that we live and move and

have our being. He is present to our intellectual and moral being

as the light of reason and the object of the will, for without

Him there would be no rational or moral life. He is present with

us also as the source of that supernatural life which begins in

baptism and ends in the uncreated vision of the Blessed Trinity

in heaven. "He that loveth Me, shall be loved by My Father; and I

will love him, and will manifest Myself to him. * * * And My

Father will love him, and We will come to him, and will make an

abode with him." [Footnote 175]

[Footnote 175: St. John xiv. 21, 23.]

O my brethren, what a piercing thought is this of the presence of

God, if we did but realize it! Think for a moment of the doctrine

of the real presence of our Lord in the Holy Eucharist. We

believe that Jesus Christ, true God and true man, with His deity,

His soul, His flesh and blood, is present in the holy sacrament

of the altar. What consequences this doctrine has!

{431}

The whole Catholic ritual, the ceremonies of worship, the respect

paid to churches, the bowing of the knees, the incense, the

lights, the music--all flow from this. In the early ages, during

the times of persecution, it was customary for Christians to take

home with them the Blessed Sacrament, that they might communicate

themselves in case of necessity. Imagine that such were the

custom now. Imagine you were to take away with you, this day, as

you left the church, and carry to your homes, the sacred host

which is kept in the tabernacle. How silently would you go along

the streets! With what care would you seek out a place for our

Saviour's body to repose in! With what care would you go about

your home as long as He remained your guest! How would your heart

thrill as you reflected, on a awaking in the morning, that indeed

the Lamb of God, once crucified for you, was now a dweller in

your own home! Yet, if such were the case, if the Blessed

Sacrament were actually kept in your houses and in your rooms,

God would not be any more present to you than He is now. He is

indeed present in a different manner in the Blessed Eucharist.

That sacramental presence, that sweet, precious, consoling

presence of the body once broken, and the blood once shed for us,

is confined to the sacramental species. But the presence of the

deity, the real presence of God, is just as much outside as it is

inside the church; just as much with us when we are at home as

when we are at Mass. Not if His footstep shook the heavens and

the earth, as it will on the Last Day when He comes to judgment,

would God be one whit closer to us or more present to us than He

is now to everyone of us, every day, and everywhere. Even sin

cannot separate us from God. We sometimes say that mortal sin

separates a man from God. As a figure of speech, implying the

loss of God's grace and friendship which sin occasions, this

language may pass, but taken literally it is untrue. A man can

never be separated from God. That would be annihilation. Even

when we are in sin, even when we are committing sin, God is with

us and in us, the soul of our soul, the life of our life.

{432}

Yes, here is a bond that can never be broken. Never can we escape

that awful presence--never for a moment, here or hereafter. We

shall not be more in God's presence in heaven or less in hell

than we are now at this moment. God is not a God afar off up in

heaven. He is here. This whole universe is only God's shadow.

Every thing that is attests, not only God's creating power, but

His living presence. He is in the flames and in the light, and in

the pastures, in the air, in the ground, in the body, and in the

soul, in the head, in the eye, in the ear, and in the heart. He

is in us, and we are in Him, bathed in His presence as in an

ocean, breathing in it as in an atmosphere. This is what the

Psalmist expresses so beautifully: "_Whither shall I go from

Thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from Thy face? If I ascend

into heaven, thou art there; if I descend into hell, thou art

present; if I take my wings early in the morning, and dwell in

the uttermost parts of the sea, even there also shall Thy hand

lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me. And I said: Perhaps

darkness shall cover me; and night shall be light in my

pleasures. But darkness shall not be dark to thee; and night

shall be light as the day; the darkness thereof, and the light

thereof, are alike to Thee_." [Footnote 176]

[Footnote 176: Ps. cxxviii. 7-12.]

If we thought more frequently of this, how many sins should we

avoid! When a man is going to commit a crime, he takes

precautions against discovery. He seeks out a secret place. He

chooses a fitting hour. Vain precautions! There is no secret

place on earth, no lonely spot, no time of darkness. There is a

proverb among men that "walls have ears," and the counsel of the

wise man is, "_Detract not the king, no, not in thy thought;

and speak not evil of the rich man in thy private chamber;

because even the birds of the air will carry the voice; and he

that hath wings will tell what thou hast said_." [Footnote 177]

[Footnote 177: Eccles. x. 20.]

{433}

What is it that has impressed on men this universal fear of

detection? Is it not an unconscious acknowledgment of the

presence of God? Yes, we cannot shut the door against Him. We

cannot leave Him out. We cannot draw the blind before His eye.

"_The eyes of the Lord in every place behold the good and the

evil." [Footnote 178] "Before that Philip called thee, when thou

wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee,_" [Footnote 179] said our

Lord to Nathanael.

[Footnote 178: Prov. xv. 3.]

[Footnote 179: St. John i. 48.]

I wish you thought more of this; I am sure it would save you from

many a sin. I have read of a holy man who, on hearing a person

say that circumstances were favorable to the commission of a

shameful sin, because no one was present, exclaimed: "What! are

you not ashamed to do that before the living God which you would

be ashamed to do before a man like yourself?" Even the eye of a

dog has restrained men from the commission of crime--how much

more ought the eye of God! Listen to the language you hear as you

pass through the streets. The sacred names of God and Jesus

Christ, how they are bandied about! Would men speak so, if they

realized that God and Christ were then and there present? Would

they insult God to His face? Suppose our Saviour were to appear

to one of these men as he was pouring out his oaths and

blasphemies, in the guise in which He was as He journeyed to

Calvary to die for man, with sorrow in His eye, and sweat and

blood on His forehead, with weak and faltering steps, and lips

mute, but full of appealing love and agony; would he still go on

with his dreadful oaths? No! The knee would be bent, the head

would be bowed, and the very ground on which He walked would be

regarded with reverent awe. Why so? Merely because he saw Him

with his bodily eyes? Would it not be the same, if he were to

close His eyes, and yet be aware of His presence? And is He not

present to you as truly as if you saw Him, hearing each

imprecation and blasphemy which you utter?

{434}

Oh, spare Him! spare those sacred ears; spare His majesty and His

goodness, and cease to profane His holy name. Tertullian,

speaking of the early Christians, says they talked as those who

believed that God was listening. Let the thought of God's

presence be deeply graven on your soul, and it will teach you to

use the language of a Christian--at least it will cure you of

blasphemy.

It will cure you also of another sin of the tongue: that is of

falsehood. Lying implies a virtual denial of God's presence, as

well as blasphemy. When you lie, you forget the there is One who

know's the truth--who is Himself the Eternal Truth; and you act

as if He knew not, or would be a party to your fraud. Every lie

is, in this respect, like the lie of Ananias and Sapphira--a lie

to God.

Oh! how much must God be displeased by all the sins He witnesses.

It is said of righteous Lot, that from day to day he vexed his

righteous soul at all the sins which he witnessed in Sodom, where

he dwelt. How must the Holy God be vexed every day at all the

dark deeds, the injustices, the impurities, the falsehoods, the

deceits, the treacheries, the cruelties, to which men compel Him

to be a witness! Is it not a necessity that Christ should come

with ten thousand of His saints to take vengeance on the ungodly!

Would it not seem, otherwise, that God made Himself a party to

our sins by keeping silence? "_These things hast thou

done_," says the Almighty, "_and I was silent. Thou

thoughtest unjustly that I shall be like to thee: but I will

reprove thee, and set before thy face_." [Footnote 180]

[Footnote 180: Ps. xlix. 21.]

David committed adultery in secret; but God declared to him that

He would punish him before all Israel, and in the sight of the

sun. So the Judgment Day will bring to light every secret thing,

and manifest, in the sight of all, those hidden sins which have

been committed in the presence and with the full knowledge of

God.

{435}

They have never been hidden from God, and the disclosures of the

Last Day are only the Presence and the Knowledge of God asserting

and manifesting themselves to men. The thought of God, and of His

Omnipresence, is thus the greatest preservative against sin.

But this is not all. The thought of God's perpetual and universal

presence is our greatest strength and consolation. What a comfort

it would be to have a friend, who loved us truly, who was most

sincerely desirous of our welfare and happiness, who was very

wise and able to help us in difficulties, never variable or

capricious, but always true and faithful and trustworthy! The

possession of such a friend will go as far as any thing earthly

can go to make one perfectly happy. Now, each one of us really

has such a friend. Such a friend? Ah! far better, far wiser, far

more loving--even the good God! God, in the Holy Scriptures,

represents the soul of man as a garden, in which it is His

delight to walk about. What an idea this gives us of the

familiarity a man may have with God. Why do not men take

advantage of this loving condescension? Why do they not converse

with God? Why do they not think of Him? The face of Moses shone

after he had been talking to God on Mount Sinai, and our

countenance would be light and joyous if we dwelt more in God's

presence. Oh, to think of it! When we walk in the streets, when

we sit down and rise up, there is one ever at our side--no, not

at our side; but in us--our very life and being; God, the

Beautiful and Good. God, Who made the heavens and the earth; the

God of our fathers. God, Who has been the comfort and stay of the

just in all ages, Who talked with Abraham, and went before the

children of Israel in a cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by

night. God, Who gave manna from heaven, Who spoke by the

prophets, and in the still, small voice on Mount Horeb; Who awoke

Samuel, as he lay sleeping in his little crib in the priest's

chamber, and chose David, the youth, fair and of a ruddy

countenance, to be the prince of His people; and who, in these

last days, hath revealed Himself in His Only Begotten Son, full

of grace and truth.

{436}

He it is Who is with you and me, even from our youth unto this

day. O thou who art afflicted, tossed with tempests and not

comforted, what dost thou want?--what wouldst thou have? The

Eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath thee are the

everlasting arms. Thou hast but to open thy soul, and floods of

comfort and strength will pour into thee. Art thou weak? He is

thy Strength. Art thou sad and lonely? He is thy Consoler. Art

thou guilty? He is thy Redeemer--the God ready to pardon. Does

the world allure thee? His Beauty will make its attractions pale.

Is thy heart weary and inconstant? He is unfailing and

unchanging. O source of strength, too much slighted! O happiness,

too often blindly rejected! In the presence of God there is

pleasure and life. "_They that hope in the Lord shall renew

their strength; they shall take wings as eagles; they shall run

and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." "For He is a

covert from the wind, a hiding-place from the storm, as rivers of

waters in a dry place, and the shadow of a great rock in a weary

land_." [Footnote 181]

[Footnote 181: Isai. xl. 31; xxxii. 2.]

Sermons of the Rev. Francis A. Baker, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul With a Memoir of His Life · 第 34 / 40 段