prayers said for them? They wait the time of their deliverance
with painful longing. They cannot hasten it themselves. They
cannot merit. Their hands are tied. They are at our mercy. The
Church indeed prays for these in her litanies, her offices, and
her Masses, but how little do we, their friends and relations,
pray for them.
{474}
The patriarch Joseph, when he foretold to Pharao's butler, his
fellow prisoner, his speedy restoration to honor, said to him:
"_Only remember me when it shall be well with thee, and do me
this kindness to put Pharao in mind to take me out of this
prison_." [Footnote 221]
[Footnote 221: Gen. xl. 14.]
But the butler, when things prospered with him, forgot his
friend. So we forget our friends in the prison of Purgatory. They
linger looking for help from us, and it comes not. Oh, pray for
the dead. Death does not sever them from hope, from prayer, or
from the power of Christ. Did not Martha say to our Lord in
reference to her brother Lazarus, who was already dead: "_I
know that even NOW whatsoever thou wilt ask of God (in his
behalf) He will give it thee!_" [Footnote 222]
[Footnote 222: St. John xi. 22.]
Yes, Christ's mercy and Christ's Bounty reach even to the regions
of the shadow of death. Christ has in His hands gifts even for
the dead--gifts of Consolation, of Refreshment, of Quiet, and of
Rest. Ask those gifts for those you love. With the widow of Naim
carry your dead to the Saviour, let your tears and prayers in
their behalf meet His Compassionate Ear and Eye, and He will
speak to the dead: "Young man, I say to thee Arise." And the dead
shall hear His voice, and shall rise up, not yet to the
Resurrection of the Body, not yet to be "delivered to his
Master," but to the company of the Angels, to the spirits of the
Just, to the home of God, where they shall be "_before the
Throne of God, and serve Him day and night in His Temple, and He
that sitteth on the Throne shall dwell over them. And they shall
not hunger nor thirst any more; neither shall the sun fall on
them, nor any heat_." [Footnote 223]
[Footnote 223: Apoc. vii. 15, 16.]
{475}
I have endeavored to-day, my brethren, to speak for the dead.
They cannot speak for themselves, but they live, and feel, and
think. And sure I am that, if they could speak, their words would
not be in substance very different from what I have spoken. They
would say: "I want no costly monument. I want no splendid
funeral. Still less do I wish that God should be offended on my
account. I ask a remembrance mingled with affection and
resignation, the rites of the Holy Church, a quiet grave, and now
and then a fervent, earnest prayer. And I will not forget you in
my prison of hope. I will pray for you, and oh! when the morning
comes, and my happy soul is called to Heaven, my first
intercession at the throne of God shall be for you, whom I loved
so well in life, and who hast not left off thy kindness to the
dead.
-------------------------------
Sermon XXVII.
Success The Reward Of Merit.
(Fifteenth Sunday After Pentecost.)
"What things a man shall sow,
them also shall he reap."
--Gal. VI. 8.
To judge by the complaints which we hear continually around us,
we might conclude that the commonest thing in the world is for
men to fail in their undertakings. Now, I admit that it is a very
common thing indeed for men to fail in obtaining what they
_desire_. There are many men who have some darling object of
ambition which they cannot reach. But I do not think it is a very
frequent thing for men to fail in attaining an end which they
steadily aim at, and which they take the proper means to attain.
I believe the rule is the other way. I believe success is the
ordinary result of well-directed endeavor. I know indeed that the
Holy Scriptures tell us that "_the race is not to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the wise, nor riches
to the learned, nor favor to the skilful: but time and chance is
all_." [Footnote 224]
[Footnote 224: Eccles. ix. 11.]
{476}
But surely all that this means is that the providence of God, for
its own purposes, _sometimes_ interferes to thwart the
best-concerted measures, and to crown feeble attempts with
unexpected success. The race is not always to the swift, but
ordinarily it is. The battle is not always to the strong, but
when it is not, it is an exception to the rule. The rule is, that
success commonly attends the employment of proper and judicious
means. The experience of life proves that this is true. Let us
look around and see if it is not so.
We will look first at the business world. Here at first sight a
succession of the most surprising changes meets our eye. Men that
were rich a few years ago are now poor. Men that then were poor
are now rich. The servant and his master have changed places. If
you return to the city after a few years' absence you will find
the same handsome houses lining our avenues, but the occupants of
many of them will be changed. The same gay carriages roll along
the street, but there is always a new set of people riding in
them, and they that used to ride now go afoot. What wonder is it
that men have imagined Fortune to be blindfold[ed], and the ups
and downs of life the chance revolutions of her wheel? But when
we look closer, we see this is not the case. For the most part
each fall and each success has had an adequate history. There has
been a rigid bond of cause and effect. It is only a metaphor when
we say that riches have wings. Gold and silver, and real estate,
and most kinds of personal property, are solid and substantial,
and do not melt away in a night. So, on the other hand, fortunes
are not made by accident. The rich man becomes rich by aiming at
it and striving for it. He does not need any extraordinary genius
perhaps, but he bends his talents, such as they are, to the task.
He rises early, he is constantly at his place of business, he
keeps himself informed of all its details, he thinks about it.
When a favorable opening comes, he takes advantage of it.
{477}
When a reverse comes, he is not discouraged by it. Other men
would be discouraged, but he is not. Perhaps he is in middle
life, perhaps he has a growing family, but he looks out for a
fresh field of enterprise, and begins anew to battle with the
world, and he becomes rich again. His success is owing in part,
if you will, to favorable circumstances, but largely to his own
energy and industry. These were the conditions, without which no
amount of mere external advantages would have insured success.
Again, if we look to the world of Literature and Art, we find the
same thing. Disappointed authors and artists often talk as if
they were the victims of the world's stupidity or malice; as if
men were unable or unwilling to appreciate them. Now, I know it
is said that such things have been. There have been men of rare
promise, but of a sensitive nature, who have been crushed by
coldness and neglect, or by the hard and unfair criticism with
which their first attempts were met. But this is far from being a
common thing. The world likes to be amused and pleased. It is
really interested in having something to praise. This being so,
how is it possible for a man of real merit to remain long
unrecognized? Who can imagine that the great masterpieces of
painting, or the great poems that have come down to us from the
past, _could_ have failed to excite the admiration of men?
In fact, human judgment, when you take its suffrages over wide
tracts and through the lapse of ages, is all but infallible. In a
particular place it may be warped by passion; in a particular
time it may conform to an artificial standard; but give it time
and room, and it is sure with unerring accuracy to detect the
beautiful and true. It is as far as possible, then, from being
the case that celebrated authors or celebrated artists have
become great by accident. There may have been favorable
circumstances. There were undoubtedly great gifts of nature; but
there was also deep study and painful, persevering toil.
{478}
I have been told that the manuscripts of a distinguished English
poet show so many erasures that hardly a line remains unaltered.
The great cathedrals of Europe were the fruit of life-long labor.
And these are but instances of a general rule. When we go into
the workshops in which some of the beautiful articles of
merchandise are manufactured, we see a great fire and hear the
clank of machinery, and men are hurrying to and fro, stained with
dust and sweat. Now, something like this has been going on to
give birth to these beautiful creations in Letters and Arts which
have delighted the world. There has been a great fire in the
furnace of the brain, and each faculty of the mind has toiled to
do its part, and there have been many blows with the pen, the
pencil, or the chisel, until the beautiful conception is
complete. Such men were successful because they deserved it. The
approbation of the world did not create their success, it only
recognized it.
I will take one more example of the rule I am
illustrating--personal character, reputation. I believe, as a
general rule, it is pretty nearly what we deserve. We reap what
we sow. People think of us pretty much as we really are. I am not
unmindful of the occasional success of hypocrites, nor of the
instances, happily not very frequent, of innocent persons
overwhelmed by a load of unjust accusation and calumny. Again, I
know that when people are angry with us they sometimes say
spiteful things which they do not mean, and when they wish to
flatter us they say things more complimentary, but just as false.
But notwithstanding all this, I affirm that the judgments which
people who know us form of us are very nearly correct. Indeed it
must be so, for we cannot disguise ourselves altogether, or for a
long time. We cannot always wear a mask. An ignorant, ill-bred
man may go to a tailor's and dress himself out in fashionable
clothes, but the first word he speaks, and the first movement he
makes will betray his want of education.
{479}
So, while we are trying to pass ourselves off for something else
than what we are, to a keen observer our habitual thoughts and
character will pierce through and discover our true selves. Even
what our enemies say about us, when they say what they think, is
very likely to be true. Men have no need to invent bad things
about us. We have all got faults enough. They have only to seize
these, exaggerate them a little, caricature them, separate them
from what is good in us, and they will make a picture bad enough,
but not too bad to be recognized as ours. Their description of us
is like a photographic likeness. It takes away the bloom from the
cheek, and the brightness from the eye, and the rich tints from
the hair. It notes down each imperfection, each frown and wrinkle
and crookedness of feature, and there it is, a hard, severe, but
not an untrue likeness. In fact, my brethren, one of the last
things I would advise any man to attempt would be to try to seem
something he is not. He is almost sure to be unsuccessful. There
is a law in the world too strong for him--the law of justice and
truth, the law that binds together actions and their
consequences, the law that attaches honor to what is good and
right, and contempt to what is base and false.
Thus we see on every side illustrations of the rule that our
success is in proportion to our merit. We sow what we reap. Much
more is this true in regard to religion. You have observed that
hitherto I have been obliged to make some qualifications, to make
some exceptions in each of the instances I have brought forward.
God may prevent our becoming rich, however legitimately we may
labor for it, because He sees that riches would not be good for
us. Or He may allow our talents to remain unappreciated, and our
name to be covered with obloquy, in order to drive us to seek His
Eternal Praise. But in religion our labors are sure to meet with
success. There is absolutely no exception. Our success will be
infallibly in proportion to our endeavors, neither more or less.
{480}
You know, my brethren, that a doctrine may be familiar to us, but
may not always make the same impression on us. We may hear it
many times and assent to it, but on some special occasion, it may
enter our mind with such force, take such a lively hold of our
imagination and heart that it seems new to us. This is what we
call _coming home to us_. Now, I remember an occasion when
the doctrine I have just stated thus came home to me. It was on
hearing the words of St. Alphonsus: "With that degree of love to
God that we possess when we leave this world, and no more, will
we pass our eternity." Any thing more startling and awakening I
do not remember ever to have heard. Not the thought of the pains
of hell, or the horrors of sin, or the bliss of paradise, ever
seemed to me so loud a call for action. All of heaven that we
shall ever see, we acquire here. Perhaps you too, my brethren,
have not realized this sufficiently. The truth is, I think many
men act in regard to religion as children and weak-minded persons
do in regard to the things of this world--they build "castles in
the air." This is a very favorite occupation with some people.
They spend hours and even days in it. It is a cheap amusement,
and they who follow it do not usually stint themselves in the
warmth and color of their pictures. The only difficulty is, to
fix a limit to their imaginary splendors. They imagine themselves
very rich, worth, say fifty thousand, or a hundred thousand, or
five hundred thousand dollars, with beautiful houses and
furniture, and all the elegancies of life. Or they imagine
themselves very famous, with a reputation as wide as the world,
and admiring crowds shouting their praises wherever they go. Now
something like this, equally silly and unsubstantial, passes in
the minds of many Christians in regard to their hereafter. They
imagine that, somehow, one of these days, they will find
themselves caught up to the third heaven, borne by angels to the
throne of God, crowned with a jewelled crown, seated on a golden
throne, with palms in their hands, to sing forever the song of
the redeemed.
{481}
They may be now in mortal sin, they may be in the habit of mortal
sin; they may be the slaves of passion, drunkards, impure,
dishonest; they may be unwilling to renounce the dangerous
occasions of sin; or they may not be so bad as this: they may
belong to that class who have their periodic spells of sin and
devotion, and are saints or sinners according to the time of the
year you take them; or they may belong to a still milder type of
ungodliness, those who are negligent and cold-hearted, with a
host of venial sins about them, and at intervals, now and then, a
mortal sin--no matter: somehow or other, by some kind of a
contrivance, all--the relapsed sinner and the habitual sinner,
the drunkard, the impure, the dishonest and the profane, the
worldly and tepid, the prayerless and presumptuous--all are going
to heaven. O miserable delusion! Does the Bible teach us this?
When it speaks of a "way" to heaven, does it not mean that all
must walk in that way to reach there? When it tells us that "the
Judge standeth at the door," does it not mean, to judge us by our
actions! Which of the saints was ever wafted to heaven in this
passive way? Ah! the apostle tells us, "they were valiant in
fight," they fought with the wild beasts of their passions, and
put to flight the armies of hell. No: it is an enemy that hath
sown among you this Calvinistic poison--yes, this worse than
Calvinistic poison, for the Calvinists did but assert that a few
elect were saved by a foregone decree, while this practically
extends it to every one. Do not believe it. "_What a man soweth
that shall he reap_." "_He that soweth to the flesh shall of
the flesh reap corruption, and, he that soweth to the Spirit
shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting_." [Footnote 225]
[Footnote 225: Gal. vi. 8.]
{482}
Our days are like a weaver's shuttle, and, as they quickly come
and go, they weave the web of our destiny. Each step we take is a
step in one of the two paths that fill up the whole field of
human probation. Ask the Psalmist who of us shall see heaven, and
he will answer you, "_Lord, who shall dwell in Thy tabernacle,
or who shall rest on Thy holy hill? he that has clean hands and a
pure heart_." [Footnote 226]
[Footnote 226: Ps. xiv. 1; xxiii. 4.]
Ask the Gospel, Who is that servant whom his Lord at His coming
will approve? and it answers: "_Even he whose loins are girt
about, and whose lights are burning, as a man that waits for his
Lord_." [Footnote 227]
[Footnote 227: St. Luke xii. 35, 36.]
Would you know who, at the end of the world, shall reap a rich
harvest? "_They that sow in tears_"--in the holy tears of
compunction, of the love of God, and of the desire of heaven--
"_shall reap in joy. And he that now goeth on his way weeping
and bearing good seed, shall come again with joy, and bring his
sheaves with him_." [Footnote 228]
[Footnote 228: Ps. cxxv. 5, 6, 7.]
Let us pause a moment before we conclude to try ourselves by this
doctrine. "All the rivers run into the sea;" so all our lives are
carrying us on to eternity. Should our lives be cut off at this
moment, of what kind of texture would they be found? "_In those
days_," says the prophet, "_Israel shall come, they shall
make haste and seek the Lord their God. They shall ask the way to
Sion, their faces thitherward_." [Footnote 229]
[Footnote 229: Jer. i. 4, 5.]
Are our faces, my brethren, turned toward the heavenly city? Are
we hastening thither, acknowledging ourselves strangers and
pilgrims on the earth? These careless confessions, these
heartless prayers, these darling sins, these aimless lives, this
tepidity, this indifference and procrastination in spiritual
things, what do they indicate? We look at the sky to judge of the
weather. We read the newspapers to find out the condition of the
country. We watch our symptoms to ascertain the state of our
health. Ah! there are indications far more important, to which we
ought to take heed.
{483}
Indications of salvation or reprobation, symptoms of spiritual
health or decay, earnests of heaven or hell, marks of Christ or
Satan. You remember the story of the old monk who was observed to
weep as he sat watching the people going into church, and, being
asked the reason, said he saw a man enter, followed by a black
demon, who seemed to claim him as his own. So, if we could look
into the spiritual world, we should see some men attended by
angels who have come to "minister to them as heirs of salvation,"
while others are surrounded by evil spirits, "come to torment
them before their time." Yes, eternity does not wait for the last
day. It presses upon us now and here. Each day is a Judgment Day.
Each evening, as it falls, finds us gathered at Christ's right
hand, driven to His left, or wavering between the two. Why do we
not take our place at once, where we shall wish to be found at
our Saviour's coming? It is not very long since death took from
among us a convert to our holy faith, [Footnote 230] whose life
had been rich in good works, who had been a mother to the orphan,
and a sister to the outcast and abandoned; and a priest, who
visited her on her last illness, told me that he had said to her:
"If God were now to raise you up and restore you to health, I
would not know how to give you any other advice, than to resume
your good works at that point where sickness compelled you to
leave them off." Beautiful testimony to a holy life! Cut the
thread wherever you will, it is all gold. Stop the Christian
where you will, he is on his way to heaven. Be such a life ours.
I have said each day is a Judgment Day: let each day merit the
approval of Christ. Let our life be a constant preparation for
Eternity, remembering that the only heaven the Christian religion
offers us, is a heaven that is won by our labors here.
[Footnote 230: Mrs. Geo. Ripley.]
-------------------------------
{484}
Sermon XXVIII.
The Mass The Highest Worship.
(Twenty-first Sunday After Pentecost.)
"What shall I offer to the Lord that is worthy?
Wherewith shall I kneel before the High God?"
--Mich. VI.6.
Such is the question which mankind have been asking from the
creation of the world. God is so high, so great, so good, so
beautiful. He made us. He created us by His Word, and we hang
upon His Breath. How shall we worship Him? How shall we express
the thoughts of Him that fill our souls? Alas! the words of the
lips, the postures of the body, are all inadequate. What shall we
do? Shall we, like Cain, gather the fairest fruits and flowers,
and bring the basket before the Lord? Or, like Abel, shall we
take the firstlings of our flocks, and slay them in His honor?
Shall we dress an altar, and pile upon it the smoking victims?
Shall we make our children pass through the fire in His Name? Or,
like the Indian devotee, shall we throw ourselves under the
wheels of the car that carries the image of the Divinity? Such
have been the ways in which men have tried to express their
devotion to God, but all have been either insufficient or vain.
Man's thoughts about God have found no fitting expression. A fire
has burned in his heart which no words can utter. Now here, as in
so many other ways, Christianity comes to our aid, and places
within our reach a perfect and all-sufficient mode of expressing
our devotion, a perfect worship. Do you ask me to what I allude?
I answer, to the Sacrifice of the Mass.
{485}
Let me remind you what the Sacrifice of the Mass is. We Catholics
believe that in the Mass Jesus Christ offers His real Body and
Blood, under the species of bread and wine, to His Eternal
Father, in remembrance of His Death on the Cross. Our Lord's
Death on the Cross was in itself complete, and all-sufficient for
the purpose for which it was undergone, and need not, indeed
could not, be repeated; but His Priestly Office was not exhausted
by that offering. In the language of Scripture: "_He ever
liveth to make intercession for us_." [Footnote 231] And,
"_He is a Priest forever_." [Footnote 232]
[Footnote 231: Heb. vii. 25.]
[Footnote 232: Ps. cix. 4.]
In what, then, does our Lord's Priesthood since His Crucifixion
consist? In heaven, it consists in presenting Himself to His
Father directly and immediately, to plead the merits of His Death
and Passion in our behalf; but on earth it consists in
representing that Death and Passion in the mystical action which
we call the Eucharistic Sacrifice or the Mass; thus fulfilling
the words of the prophet in reference to our Lord: "_Thou art a
Priest forever, after the order of Melchisedec_." [Footnote 233]
[Footnote 233: Ibid.]
The offering, then, which takes place in the Mass is the very
same that was made on Calvary, only it is made in a different
manner. On the Cross, that offering was made in a direct and
absolute manner, it was a bloody Sacrifice; in the Mass, it is
made in a mystical and commemorative way, without blood, without
suffering, without death. Therefore, in order to understand what
takes place in the Mass, we must go back to the Cross. What was
it that took place on the Cross? You answer, perhaps, Christ shed
His Blood there for the remission of sins. True: the Blood of
Christ was the material cause of our Redemption, but that which
gave the Blood of Christ its value, that, indeed, which made it a
Sacrifice, was the interior dispositions of the Soul of Christ.
The Blood of Christ, taken as a mere material thing, could never
have effected our reconciliation. What does the Scripture say?
"_Sacrifice and oblation Thou didst not desire. Burnt-offerings
and sin-offerings Thou didst not require. Then I said: Lo, I come
to do Thy will O God!_" [Footnote 234]
[Footnote 234: Ps. xxxix. 7, 8.]
{486}
It was by the _obedience_ of Christ, an obedience practised
through His whole life, but of which His Death and Passion were
the fullest expression, that Christ, as our elder brother,
repaired our disobedience. While our Lord was hanging on the
Cross, He exercised every Divine virtue which the soul of man can
exercise. He loved. He prayed. He praised. He gave thanks. He
supplicated. He made acts of adoration and resignation. In one
word, He performed the most perfect act of _worship_.
Well, it is just the same in the Mass. It would be the greatest
mistake to think of the Body and Blood of Christ in the Mass as a
sort of dead offering. It is living, and offered by the living
Christ. Christ is the Priest of the Mass as well as the victim.
It is Christ who celebrates the Mass, and He celebrates it with a
warm and living Heart, the same Heart with which He worshipped
the Father on Mount Calvary. It is this that makes the Mass what
it is. If it were not for this, the Mass would be a carnal
sacrifice, infinitely superior, indeed, to those of the Old Law,
but of the same order. It is this which makes the Sacrifice of
the Mass a reasonable service, a Spiritual Sacrifice.