God. To forget God, what is it, but to plunge ourselves into sin
and misery. To remember God, what is it, but to be strong and
happy. "Walk before Me, and be thou perfect," said God to
Abraham. That is the secret of perfection, the way to heaven. It
is not necessary to go out of your own mind. It is not necessary
to lift the eye to heaven, or bend the knee. Closer than the
union of soul and body is the union between God and thee.
{437}
Quicker than thought is the communion between thy soul and its
Maker. "_Thou shalt cry_," says the Almighty, "_and I will
say: Here I am--yea, even before thy call, I will hear, and even
while thou art yet speaking I will answer_." [Footnote 182]
[Footnote 182: Isai. lviii. 9; lxv. 24.]
Practise, then, attention to the presence of God. I do not speak
so much now of daily prayers, and of your devotions in the
church. But when you are abroad in the busy world, or in your
homes, accustom yourselves from time to time to think of God.
Complicated pieces of machinery require the care of an overseer
from time to time, lest they get out of gear. So we must think of
God from time to time during the day, and keep the powers of our
soul in harmony with the will of God, lest they fall into
disorder, and the work of life be hindered. It is not a work of
very great difficulty. The chief difficulty lies in its
simplicity. It is so much easier to pray than we think, that
oftentimes we have already prayed when we are perplexing
ourselves how to pray, and busying ourselves with preparing to
pray. God is in us, in the very centre of our soul. He knows its
most secret thoughts, and thus a simple act of the will is enough
to bring us into communion with Him. To realize this is to be men
of prayer, to be as happy as it is possible for us to be in this
life, and to begin here that contemplation of God which will
constitute our everlasting beatitude in heaven.
-----------------------------------------
Sermon XXIII.
Keeping The Law Not Impossible.
(Ninth Sunday After Pentecost.)
"I can do all things in Him who strengtheneth me."
--Phil. VI. 13.
If I am not mistaken, a very great number of the sins that men
commit, are committed through hopelessness. The pleasures of sin
are by no means unmixed. Indeed, sin is a hard master; and all
who practise it find it so.
{438}
I never met a man who said it was a good thing, or that it made
him happy. On the contrary, all lament it, and say that it makes
them miserable. Why, then, do they commit it? Very often, I am
persuaded, because they think they have no power to resist it.
They feel in themselves strong passions; they have yielded to
them in times past, they see that others yield to them, and so
they come to think it impossible not to yield to them. The law of
God is too difficult, they say. It is impossible to keep it. It
may do for priests or nuns who are cut off from the world, or for
women, or for the old, or for children, but for us who mix in the
world, whose blood is warm, and whose passions are strong, it is
too high and pure. It is all very well to talk about; it is all
very well to hold up a high standard to us, but you must not
expect us to attain it. The utmost that you can expect of us is
to stop sinning, now and then, and make the proper
acknowledgments to God by going to confession; but actually to
try not to sin, to keep on endeavoring not to sin at any time, or
under any circumstances, that is impossible, or at least so
extremely difficult that, practically speaking, it is impossible.
Are there none of you, my brethren, who recognise this as the
secret language of your hearts? Is there not an impression in
your minds that the law of God is too strict, or at least that it
is too strict for you, and that you cannot keep it? If so, do not
harbor it. It is a fatal error. No; it is not impossible to keep
God's law. It is not impossible to keep from mortal sin. It is, I
admit, impossible to keep from every venial sin, though even here
we can do a great deal, if we try. Such is the frailty of human
nature that even the best men, as time goes on, fall into some
slight faults, only the Blessed Virgin having been able, as we
believe, to pass a whole life without even in the smallest thing
offending God. But it is possible for all of us to keep from
mortal sin, at all times and under all circumstances. This, I
think, you will acknowledge when you consider the character of
God, the nature of God's law, and the power of God's grace which
is promised to us.
{439}
I say the character of God is a pledge of our ability to keep
from mortal sin. God requires us to be free from mortal sin, and
He requires it under the severest penalties, and therefore it
must be possible for us. You may say, "God requires us to be free
from venial sin too, and yet you have just said we cannot avoid
every venial sin." But the case is far different. A venial sin
does not separate us from God, and does not receive extreme
punishment from Him--nay, those venial sins which even good men
commit, and which are only in small part voluntary, are very
easily forgiven--but a mortal sin cuts us off entirely from God,
and deserves eternal punishment. You know, one mortal sin is
enough to damn a man--one single sin of drunkenness, for
instance, or impurity; a cherished hatred, a false oath, or an
act of grave injustice. One such sin is sufficient to sink a man
in hell, and although we know very little in particular of the
torments of hell, we have every reason to believe that they are
most bitter, and we know that they are eternal. Now, can it be
thought that a being of justice and goodness, as we know God to
be, would inflict so extreme a punishment for an offence which
was unavoidable, or could only be avoided with the utmost
difficulty? Holy Scripture sends us to an earthly parent for an
example of that tenderness and affection which we are to expect
from our Heavenly Father. "_If you, being evil, know how to
give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father
who is in heaven, give good things to them that ask Him_."
[Footnote 183]
[Footnote 183: St. Matt. vii. 11.]
What would be the thought of an earthly father who laid upon his
son a command which it was all but impossible for him to comply
with, and then punished him with the utmost rigor for not
fulfilling it?
{440}
You would not call that man a father, but a tyrant; a tyrant like
Pharaoh, who would not give straw to the children of Israel, and
yet set taskmasters over them to exact of them the full measure
of bricks as when straw had been given them. Why, if you were
going along the street and saw a man whipping unmercifully an
overloaded horse, you would not bear it patiently. And would you
attribute conduct so disgraceful among men to our Father in
heaven? God forbid! Far be such a thought from us! It is not so.
We must not think it. At least we cannot think it as long as we
remain Catholics; for when the earlier Protestants proclaimed the
shocking doctrine that though God punished men for disobeying his
law, man was really unable to obey it, the Church branded the
doctrine as a heresy to be abhorred of all men, as most false in
itself, and most injurious to God. No; God loves his creatures
far more than we conceive of: He does not desire the death of a
sinner. He wills truly the salvation of all men. His goodness and
mercy, His truth and justice, are all so many infallible
guarantees of our ability to keep His law. He would not have
given us His law unless He had meant us to keep it. He would not
punish us so severely for breaking it, unless our breaking it was
an act of deliberate, wilful, determined rebellion.
But there is another source from which I draw the conclusion that
it is possible to keep the law of God--from the nature of the law
itself. The law of God is of such a nature that, for the most
part, in order to commit mortal sin, it is necessary to do or to
leave undone some external act, which of its own nature it is
entirely in our power to do or not to do. For instance, the law
says, "_Thou shalt not steal;_" now, to steal, you have got
to put your hand into your neighbor's pocket. The law says:
"_Thou shalt do no murder;_" to murder, you must stretch out
your hand against your neighbor's life. Nay, it requires
ordinarily several external actions before a mortal sin is
consummated. Thus the thief has his precautions to take, and his
plans to lay.
{441}
The drunkard has to seek the occasion. He seeks the grogshop.
Every step he takes is a separate act. When he gets there, it is
not the first glass that makes him drunk. He drinks again and
again, and it is only after all these different and repeated
actions that he falls into the mortal sin of drunkenness. Now,
here you see are external acts--acts in which the hand, the foot,
the lips, are concerned, and which, therefore, it is perfectly in
our power to do or to let alone. This requires no proof, but
admits of a striking illustration. You have heard of the great
sufferings of the martyrs; how some of them were stoned to death,
others flayed alive, others crucified, others torn to pieces by
wild beasts, others burned to death. Now, what was it all about?
You answer, "They suffered because they would not deny Christ."
Very well; but how were they required to deny Christ? "What was
it they were required to do? I will tell you. Sometimes they were
required to take a few grains of incense and throw it on the
altar of Jupiter; that would have been enough to have saved them
from their sufferings. They need not have said, 'I renounce
Christ;" only to have taken the incense would have been
sufficient. Sometimes they were required to tread on the cross.
Sometimes to swear by the genius of the Roman emperor; that was
all. And the fire was kindled to make them do these things; but
they would not. The flames leaped upon them, but not a foot would
they lift from the ground. Their hands were burnt to the bone,
but no incense would they touch. The marrow of their bones melted
in the heat, and forced from them a cry of agony, but the name of
the emperor's tutelary genius did not pass their lips. Now, will
you tell me that you cannot help doing what the martyrs would not
do to save them from death? They had a fire before them and a
scourge behind them, and they refused; and you say you cannot
help yourself when you are under no external violence whatever!
They died rather than lift a hand to do a forbidden thing; have
you not the same power over your hand that they had?
{442}
They died rather than utter a sinful word; have you not as much
power over your tongue as they? Indeed you have, for you control
both one and the other whenever you will. I say there is no
sinner whose conduct does not show that his actions are perfectly
in his own power. The thief waits for the night to carry on his
trade; during the day he is honest enough. The greatest libertine
knows how to behave himself in the presence of a high-born and
virtuous female. And even that vice which men say it is most
difficult of all to restrain when once the habit is
formed--profane swearing--you know how to restrain it when you
will, for even the heaviest curser and swearer ceases from his
oaths before the priest, or any other friend whom he greatly
respects. Now, if you can stop cursing before the priest, why can
you not before your wife and children? If you can be chaste in
the presence of a virtuous female, why can you not be chaste
everywhere? If you can be honest when the eye of man is on you,
why can you not be honest when no eye sees you but that of God?
"But," someone may say, "there is a class of sins to which the
remarks you have made do not apply, that is, sins of thought. You
must admit that they are of such a nature that it is all but
impossible not to commit them." No, I do not admit it. I
acknowledge that sins of thought are more difficult to guard
against than sins of action; but I do not acknowledge that it is
impossible to guard against them. To prove this, I have only to
remind you that an evil thought is no sin until we give
_consent_ to it. To keep always free from evil thoughts may
be impossible, because the imagination is in its nature so
volatile, that but few men have it in control; but, though it be
not possible to restrain the imagination, it is always possible
to restrain the will. In order for the will to consent to evil it
is necessary both to _know_ and to _choose_, and
therefore from the nature of the thing one can never fall into
sin either inevitably or unawares.
{443}
And besides, the will has a powerful ally in the conscience,
whose province it is to keep us from sin and to reproach us when
we do sin--so that it is scarcely possible, for one who
habitually tries to keep free from mortal sin, to fall into it
without his conscience giving a distinct and unmistakable report.
And this is so certain that spiritual writers say that a person
of good life and tender conscience, who is distressed with the
uncertainty whether or no he has given consent to an evil
temptation, ought to banish that anxiety altogether and to be
sure that he has not consented. But suppose these evil
temptations are importunate, and remain in the soul even when we
resist them, and try to turn from them? No matter. They do not
become sins on that account; nay, they become the occasion of
acts of great virtue. It is related in the life of St. Catharine
of Sienna that on one occasion that pure virgin's soul was
assailed by the most horrible temptations of the devil. They
lasted for a long time, and after the conflict our Saviour
appeared to her with a serene countenance. "O my Divine Spouse,"
she said, "where wast thou when I was enduring these conflicts?"
"In thy soul," he replied. "What, with all these filthy
abominations?" "Yes, they were displeasing and painful to thee;
this therefore was thy merit, and thy victory was owing to My
presence." So that we see even here, where the danger is
greatest, the law of God exacts of us nothing but what in its own
nature is in our power to do or not to do.
But if you wish another proof of your ability to keep God's law,
I allege the _power of His grace_. I can imagine an objector
saying: "You have not touched the real difficulty, after all. The
difficulty is not on God's side; no doubt. He is good and holy.
Neither are the requirements of his law so very hard. The
difficulty is in us. We are fallen by nature. We have sinned
after baptism. We are so weak, so frail, that to us continued
observance of the divine commandments is impossible." No, my
brethren, neither is this true.
{444}
It is not true from the mouth of any man; least of all from the
mouth of a Christian. "No temptation," says the Apostle, "_hath
taken hold of you but Such as is human: And God is faithful, who
will not suffer you to be tempted above that which you are able;
but will also with the temptation make a way of escape that you
may be able to bear it_." [Footnote 184]
[Footnote 184: I Cor. x. 13.]
The weakest and frailest are strong enough with God's grace, and
this grace He is ready to give to those that need it. At all
times and in all places He has been ready to give His grace to
them that need it, but especially is this true under the gospel.
The Holy Scriptures make this the distinguishing characteristic
of the times of the gospel, that they shall abound in grace.
"_Take courage, and fear not_," the prophet says, in
anticipation of the time when Christ should come in the flesh,
"_Behold, God will come and save you. Then shall the eyes of
the blind be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped. Then
shall the lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb
shall be free; for waters are broken out of the desert, and
streams in the wilderness. And that which was dry land shall
become a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water_."
[Footnote 185] Such was the promise, hundreds of years before
Christ, of a time of peace, of happiness and grace; and when our
Lord was come, He published that the good time had indeed
arrived: "_The spirit of the Lord hath anointed me to preach
the gospel to the poor. He hath sent me to heal the contrite of
heart. To preach deliverance to the captive, and sight to the
blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the
acceptable year of the Lord_." [Footnote 186]
[Footnote 185: Is. xxxv. 4-7.]
[Footnote 186: St. Luke iV. 18, 19.]
Yes, the great time has come; the cool of the day; the evening of
the world; the time when labor is light and reward abundant. O my
brethren, you know not what a privilege it is to be a Christian!
You enter a church. You see a priest in his confessional. A
penitent is kneeling at his feet.
{445}
The sight makes but little impression on you, for you are
accustomed to it, but this is that "_fountain_" promised by
the prophet "_to the house of David and to the inhabitants of
Jerusalem, for the washing of the sinner;_" a fountain that
flows from the Saviour's side, and not only cleanses, but
strengthens and makes alive. You pass an altar. The priest is
giving communion. Stop! it is the Lord himself! the bread of
angels! the wine of virgins! the food "_whereof if a man eat he
shall live forever_." And not only in the church do you find
grace; it follows you home. You shut your door behind you, and
your Father in heaven waits to hear and grant your prayer. Nay,
at all times God is with you, for you are the temple of God, and
He sits on the throne of your heart to scatter His grace on you
whenever and wherever you ask Him. Do not say, then, Christian,
that you are unable to do what God requires of you. It is a sin
of black ingratitude to say so. Even if it were impossible for
others to keep the law of God, it is not for you. He hath not
done to every nation as he hath done to you. When the patriarch
Jacob was dying, he blessed all his children, but his richest
blessing was for Joseph. So God has blessed all the children of
His hand, but you, Christian, are the Joseph whom He hath loved
more than all His other sons. To others He hath given of "_dew
dew of heaven_," and "_the fatness of the earth_," but
you "_He hath blessed with all spiritual blessings in
Christ_."
Away, then, with the notion that obedience to the commandments of
God is impracticable--a notion dishonorable to God and to
ourselves. It is possible to keep free from mortal sin--for
all--at all times, under all temptations. Nay, I will say more.
It is, on the whole, easier to live a life of Christian
obedience, than a life of sin. I say "on the whole," for I do not
deny that here and there, in particular cases, it is harder to do
right than wrong; but taking life all through, one who restrains
his passions will have less trouble than one who indulges them.
{446}
Heroic actions are not required of us every day. In order to be a
Christian, it is not necessary to be always high-strung and
enthusiastic. It is not necessary to be a devotee, to adopt set
and precise ways, to take up with hypocrisy and cant--in a word,
to be unmanly. It is just, for the most part, the most matter of
fact, the most practical, the most simple and straight-forward
thing in the world. It is to be a man of principle. It is to have
a serious, abiding purpose to do our duty. It is to be full of
courage; not the courage of the braggart, but the courage of the
soldier--the courage that thrives under opposition, and survives
defeat, the courage that takes the means to secure
success--vigilance, humility, steadfastness, and prayer. Before
this, all difficulties vanish, and this is what we want most of
all. It is amazing how little courage there is in the world. We
are like the servant of Eliseus, the prophet, who, when he awoke
in the morning, and saw the great army that had been sent by the
King of Syria to take his master, said, "_Alas, alas, alas, my
lord; what shall we do!_" But Eliseus showed him another
army--the army of angels ranged on the mountain, with chariots of
fire and horses of fire, ready to fight for the servants of God,
and he said, "_Fear not: for there are more with us than with
them_." [Footnote 187]
[Footnote 187: IV. Kings vi. 15-17.]
Why should we fear? Christianity is no new thing. The path of
Christian obedience is not an untried path. Thousands have trod
it and are now enjoying their reward. God, and the angels, and
the saints, are on our side. And there are multitudes of faithful
souls in the word who are fighting the good fight, and keeping
their souls unsullied. We cannot distinguish them now, but one
day we shall know them. Oh! let us join them. Yes, we will make
our resolution now. Others may guide themselves by pleasure or
expediency; we will adopt the language of the Psalmist: "_Thy
Word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my paths_."
[Footnote 188]
[Footnote 188: Ps. cxviii. 105.]
{447}
We will be Christians, not in name, but in deed. Not for a time
only, but always. One thought shall cheer us in sadness and nerve
us in weakness, "_I have sworn and am determined to keep the
judgments of Thy justice_." [Footnote 189]
[Footnote 189: Ibid. 106.]
---------------------------------
Sermon XXIV.
The Spirit Of Sacrifice..
(For The Feast Of St. Laurence, Martyr.)
"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God,
that you present your bodies a living sacrifice,
holy, pleasing to God, your reasonable service."
--Rom. XVII. 1.
There is, my brethren, among many men who practise Christian
duties to a certain extent, one remarkable want. I will call it
the want of the Spirit of Sacrifice. Compare such men with any of
the saints, and you will see at once what I mean. One saint may
differ a great deal from another, but this is common to them
all--a vivid sentiment of God's greatness and Sovereignty, of His
right to do with us what He wills, and a willing and reverent
recognition of that right. Now the defective Christianity to
which I allude lacks this spirit altogether. It differs from the
Christianity of the saints not only in degree but in kind. Not
only does it fail to produce _as many_ sacrifices as the
saints made for God, but the idea of Sacrifice is completely
strange and foreign to it. It bargains about the commandments of
God, and, when any commandment is difficult, postpones
fulfilment, or refuses it altogether. To prevent any of you from
being content with so imperfect and unsatisfactory a sort of
religion, I will give you this morning some reasons why you
should aim to serve God in the spirit of sacrifice.
{448}
First, then, I assert that the spirit of sacrifice is necessary.
God requires it of us. On this point I think some people make a
mistake. They seem to think that a willingness to make sacrifices
for God is one of the ornamental or heroic parts of religion, and
that everyday people are not required to have it. But this is not
so. The Spirit of Sacrifice is required of everyone. I infer this
from the fact that an external sacrificial worship is necessary.
It is frequently said that there is no religion without a
sacrifice. And this is true. There never has been, nor indeed
could there be, a true religion without having some external act
of sacrificial worship. But why is this necessary? Not simply
because we are sinners and need propitiation, for some
theologians have thought that sacrifices would have been
necessary, though man had never sinned. What religion requires a
sacrifice for, is this--to express our sense of God's supreme
Sovereignty. In a Sacrifice there is something offered to God and
destroyed, thus signifying that God is the Author of Life and
Death, our Creator, our Ruler, our Supreme Judge. The excellence
of the Christian Sacrifice--the Sacrifice of the Mass--consists
in this, that the victim offered is a living, reasonable, Divine
Victim, even the Son of God Incarnate, Who by His Life and Death
rendered most worthy homage to the Divine Majesty, and still in
every Mass, continually, offers it anew.