In this passage St. Paul tells us another truth about the

principle of final rewards. He says they shall be given by way of

justice. The time for mercy will then have passed, and we shall

be weighed in the balance of justice, and our reward shall be in

strict proportion to the weight of merit we have cast into the

scale. "_Therefore, my beloved brethren_ (he writes to the

Corinthians), _be ye firm and immovable, always abounding in

the work of the Lord; knowing that your labor is not in vain in

the Lord_." [Footnote 141]

[Footnote 141: 1 Cor. xv., 58.]

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Then, there is that passage of which I have already spoken, where

St. Paul illustrates the diversity of rewards. "_For there is

one glory of the sun, another glory of the moon, and another

glory of the stars; for one star differeth from another star in

glory. So also shall it be in the resurrection from the

dead._"

Thus from Holy Scripture we get these several facts with regard

to the rewards of the next life, namely, first, that it is a

reward, and not merely a favor from God. Next, that it is a

reward for good works. Thirdly, that this reward is given by way

of justice. And lastly, that these rewards differ as widely from

one another as do the several lights of the sun, moon, and stars.

But of what use is Holy Scripture to us without Her

interpretation, whose office it is to interpret, as it has been

to preserve it? I will quote you two, out of many, decrees which

the Holy Church made on this matter at the Council of Trent. "If

any one shall say that the just ought not for their good works

done in God, to expect and hope for an eternal recompense from

God, through his mercy and the merits of Jesus Christ, if so be

that they persevere to the end in well doing, and in keeping the

Divine commandments, let him be anathema."

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Again, "If any one shall say that the good works of a justified

man are in such sense the gifts of God, that they are not also

the merits of the justified man himself, let him be anathema."

It is then certain, both from Holy Scripture and from the

decisions of Holy Church, that we can merit the possession of

heaven as a right, by our good works. But you will say, if this

be true, does it not tend to cherish in us a spirit of

self-sufficiency, and of independence of God? No, it does not;

and for the reasons I am now going to give you, in speaking on

the second point, namely:

II. The Sources Of Merit.

There are two sources of merit, neither of which are in

ourselves, but both of them are in God. One is the goodness of

God; the other, the merits of Christ.

1. My brethren, God is not bound to his creatures except so far

as He has been pleased to bind Himself. He could have lived on as

well without any creation at all. And even now that he has

created our race, his promise is the only measure of our rights

and privileges. These promises were forfeited by our first

parents, and God might never have renewed them to us, their

posterity.

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But "_God so Loved the world as to give his only begotten Son,

that whoever believeth in Him may not perish, but may have life

everlasting_." [Footnote 142]

[Footnote 142: John iii., 16.]

"_Behold what charity the Father hath bestowed upon us_,"

says St. John in his Epistle, "_that we should be called, and

that we should be the sons of God_." [Footnote 143]

[Footnote 143: 1 John iii., 1.]

It is because we are sons of God, "and joint heirs with Christ,"

that God has honored us so much, and made it possible for us to

merit by our good works. In order however, to keep us humble and

to make us mindful that in all things we are indebted to his

goodness, God has reserved to Himself two graces which we cannot

merit, and without which we cannot be saved. These are the gifts

of sanctifying grace and of final perseverance. A man is not

likely to take airs upon himself and be insolent to you, when he

is lying on the broad of his back in the road, and cannot stir

hand or foot to help himself. No, he is most likely to address

you in terms of supplication and entreaty.

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Well, this is our condition when God, of his pure love, bestows

upon us the gift of sanctifying grace. Then, again, though we

should have this gift to-day, we may lose it to-morrow, and but

for God's continued graces we would infallibly lose it. Can you

imagine a dependence which is more pure than ours is upon God? An

infant is not more dependent upon its mother for the preservation

of its physical life, than we are upon God for our spiritual

life. "Give us this day our daily bread," is our every morning

prayer. We are like little birds in a nest before they are able

to fly. All we can do is to make a piteous cry, and hold up our

mouths to be filled. Where, then, is there room for presumption

in such teaching as this? Now, let me go on to my second source

of merit, which is the merit of Christ.

2. We are in a double sense indebted to our Blessed Lord. He is

not only our Creator, our Preserver, and our Benefactor, but He

is also our Redeemer. It is by his bitter Passion and Death, and

in union with these, that what we do in his name has a value and

a price in the sight of the Eternal Father. It is that precious

Blood of his which is poured into our soul in holy Baptism; it is

that precious Blood of his which we drink in Holy Communion, that

constitutes the pure and holy source of every good and

meritorious act of ours.

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He has Himself explained how this is, in the parable of the vine.

"_I am the vine, ye the branches. He that abideth in Me, and I

in him, he beareth much fruit_." [Footnote 144]

[Footnote 144: John xv., 5.]

Let us now try to get at our Lord's meaning. It is quite common

nowadays to see a grapery in a gentleman's country garden. The

entire roof of those ornamental glass-houses is covered with

luxuriant vines; and they in turn are loaded with rich green

leaves, and with beautiful bunches of grapes. The sap has made

its course through the length of the vine, and into the various

branches. Here it has forced out a green leaf, and there a bunch

of fruit. These it continues to feed, by a continuous flow, until

the leaf has gained its size and color, and the fruit its

delicacy of flavor. Both leaf and fruit owe their existence,

their beauty, and whatever is excellent in them, to this sap,

which is the source of all; but will you say that they do not

have these things in themselves? Will you say that the grapes are

not really fine flavored, but only called so because they belong

to an excellent vine?

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No, certainly not. You say the grapes are fine, because they

really are fine, because they answer in point of taste to what

you understand by that term. They have in themselves a something

which is not accidental to them, but which is an essential

quality in grapes of that kind, namely, that delicate flavor

which has established their worth.

Now, apply this to ourselves. We are united to our Lord through

the Sacraments, as branches to a vine. His grace is that precious

Sap which has been let in upon our souls, through those seven

main channels. They cleanse and purify our souls. They sanctity

them, and make them beautiful and pleasing to God. The acts of

the soul, so long as it is united to God by this divine gift of

grace, are at the same time the acts of grace. They are good and

meritorious, inasmuch as they are done by the co-operation of

grace with our intelligence and free will. By rewarding such acts

as these, God rewards the works of his own hands. This is what

St. Augustine says: "When God crowns our merits, He does no more

than crown his own gifts."

{321}

Let me illustrate this in another way. St. Paul says, in his

second Epistle to the Corinthians, "_I have espoused you to one

husband, that I may present you as a chaste virgin to

Christ_." [Footnote 145]

[Footnote 145: 2 Cor. xi., 2.]

Here he calls the soul the wife, and Christ its husband. By this

we are to understand, that the grace of Christ in the soul

enables it first to conceive good desires, and then to bring

forth good works, which are, as it were, the children of the

soul. Thus a dignity and worth are communicated to them, which

are, in a true sense, divine. Suppose, for instance, a Prince of

royal blood were to marry a peasant girl. Her children would

unquestionably have royal blood in their veins, how ever obscure

may have been the parentage of their mother. They would be

entitled to the right of succession, and could claim the throne

of their father. Well, in like manner our good works, having God

as their Author, are able to claim from Him a supernatural

reward.

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III. The Conditions Of Merit.

There is one condition of being able to do a good supernatural

work, which always comes first, and that is, that the person

shall be in the state of grace when he does it. God can find no

pleasure in us so long as our will and affections are turned away

from Him, and this is the case when we are in mortal sin.

Again, our merit will be in proportion to the excellence of the

work in itself considered. One apple is better than another,

though both have grown upon the same branch. To attend the

bedside of some poor sick person, is a more excellent work than

merely to bestow an alms upon him. To be contrite for one's sins,

is more excellent than to do penitential works in expiation of

them. To forgive the injury of one's enemy, is more excellent

than to pardon the unkindness of an acquaintance. The poorest

effort at self-control, is better than the best advice given to

another. I remember a story which shows what even one excellent

work will do for a soul. It is in "The Lives of the Fathers of

the Desert." A monk, who was serving God with much prayer and

self-denial, was tempted with the desire to see a man whose merit

in the sight of God should be the very counterpart of his own.

God gratified his weakness. He was directed to go to a certain

inn in a neighboring village where he would see such a man.

{323}

On reaching it, there stood before the door a poor fiddler

playing for pennies. The monk understood, by an interior light,

that this was the man. Much surprised, and rather mortified too,

he nevertheless addressed the fiddler, and asked him what sort of

a life he had led, and what he was then doing for God? He

answered, that he had, for many years, gained a poor but honest

livelihood in the same humble employment. That as to his having

done any thing very good, he did not know about that, although

there was one thing that he always remembered with a great deal

of satisfaction. "With some danger to myself, I once rescued a

poor girl from those who would have ruined her." The good monk

was made to understand, that for preventing that outrage, God had

raised this poor fiddler to a great purity of soul.

A good work, again, is more excellent in proportion as it is more

difficult. What a consolation this ought to be to us! How hard we

think it sometimes to get on in life, with its multiplied

vexations and discouragements!

{324}

We say, "What a strange world!" "What a weary world!" In the

language of Holy Scripture we say, "_In the morning, who will

grant me evening? and at evening, who will grant me morning?_"

[Footnote 146] as though things were turning out very different

from what we had a right to expect.

[Footnote 146: Deut. xxviii., 57.]

[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is Deut. xxviii., 67.]

Ah! God has been good to us in the planning out of our lives,

better than we should be, if we had all the planning to

ourselves. I have shown you that future rewards are to be

determined by merit; now our merits are measured by our trials.

By your own admission then, this world, in being full of trials,

most completely answers the end for which God created it. If we

could but get into the habit of looking at things from this point

of view, the face of life would be lit up with a perpetual

sunshine. Yes, the harder our state of life is to bear, the more

difficulties we find in following our Lord, the more laborious

the work, so much the brighter are our prospects for the life to

come, if we prove faithful to the end.

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How well the mother of the Maccabees, that noble woman, knew

this! Holy Scripture says: "_She was to be admired above

measure, and worthy to be remembered by good men, who beheld her

seven sons slain in the space of one day, and bore it with a good

courage for the hope she had in God_." [Footnote 147]

[Footnote 147: 2 Maccabees vii., 20.]

As the youngest, her last and dearest, was about to be put to

death, she encouraged him to be resolute; and he went to a

martyr's reward under the influence of a consoling thought, which

he thus beautifully expressed: "_My brethren having now

undergone a short pain, are under the covenant of eternal

life_."

Again, our merit is in proportion to the purity of the intention

with which we do the work. The intention we make, either actual

or habitual, is the chalice, as it were, in which we make our

offerings to God. It is even more than this; for the excellence

of the intention is imparted to the work itself, and becomes the

measure of its merit. I once saw some wooden goblets in the

window of an apothecary shop. Being curious to know what they

were for, I was told by the clerk that they were made of quassia,

a peculiar kind of wood which imparted to pure water, when drank

from these goblets, a most healthy tonic.

{326}

Now, so it is with a pure intention. If the work that we do for

God is only pure and good in itself, the intention will

communicate to it its own peculiar excellence, and the work will

receive the reward of that excellence, which has become its own.

Suppose, for instance, you hear Mass from a mere motive of duty,

as being a Catholic. It is a supernatural work, and it will

secure a supernatural reward. But to that intention you have

added another the next time you hear Mass; namely, the intention

of doing penance for your sins. Well, the same act is now doubly

meritorious. The third time you hear Mass from a pure desire to

make reparation to our Lord for all the injuries He has received

in the Blessed Sacrament, and your intention is more excellent

still, and, if united with the other two, will merit a three-fold

reward.

Again, great merit is gained by small things done for God. This

is surely very encouraging for us who have not the abilities, or

the opportunities, of doing great things. Of course I mean great

things as the world views them.

{327}

A check put upon a wrong thought; the arrest of an improper word;

the silence to which we have forced ourselves, when we feel

within us the swelling of anger; the call we make upon a sick

neighbor in passing; the alms we bestow, however small; the

effort to be patient under sickness or pain; the kind word of

advice to the erring; each such act as these, will be a passport

at the gate of Heaven.

And now, dear brethren, I repeat once more what I said when I

began. There is an aristocracy, there is a hierarchy, in Heaven.

As there are nine choirs of Angels, and, so St. John tells us,

except "the one hundred and forty four thousand" who had

consecrated their virgin bodies as first-fruits to God, none

could sing the "_new song_" or "_follow the Lamb

whithersoever he goeth_," so shall it be forever.

I will say more; and this is what I wish especially to impress

upon your minds. You must already have gathered it from what I

have said. It is this. That aristocracy, that hierarchy, is in

process of formation at this moment. It is not determined by an

arbitrary choice in heaven, but on the principle of personal

merit, here on earth.

{328}

How is it with a large body of students at one of our colleges or

universities? They are class-mates, or even room-mates, for

years, but look at them after the lapse of twenty years, and what

are their respective positions? One is a merchant, in a small

way, in a country town of a new state; while the other is

representing his country as Minister at a first-class foreign

court. One is a village physician, while the other is the

nation's choice to fill the Presidential Chair. So shall it be

with families. Some will scarcely be saved, while others will

fill up the ranks of the seraphs, which were broken at the time

of Lucifer's rebellion. Where, I ask, shall our place be in this

hierarchy? Our Lord says: "_The last shall be first, and the

first last_." Where shall we be? Grace and a good will are the

only materials wanting in the formation of a Saint Aloysius, a

Saint Stanislas, or a Saint Elizabeth of Hungary; and these are

in the reach of every one. What shall I say in conclusion, dear

brethren, to spur you on to do good works? I will ask you to look

back upon the past. Does it not lie in your memory in all the

blackness and barrenness of a western prairie, over which the

desolating fire of the savage has passed?

{329}

Where can you find the trace of any real care of your souls?

Where your good works? Where your merit? At least let us resolve

now, while our hearts are warm, that we will improve the present,

remembering that "_what things a man shall sow, those also

shall he reap;_" and that "_he that soweth in the Spirit,

shall reap life everlasting_." [Footnote 148]

[Footnote 148: Gal. vi., 8.]

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

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Sermon XX.

Self-denial.

"We came into the land to which thou sentest us,

which in very deed floweth with milk and honey,

as may be known by these fruits."

--Num. xiii., 28.

[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is Num. xiii., 27.]

(A Sermon for the first Sunday in Lent.)

When the ancient people of Israel, after traversing the desert of

Arabia, drew nigh to the promised land of Canaan, Moses, their

prophet and leader, sent out one of every tribe to view the

country, that they might be able to bring back an accurate

account of it--of its productiveness, the number and strength of

its population, and its means of defence. These spies, upon their

return, were all agreed in regard to the wonderful fertility of

the country, but in other respects their account was very

discordant.

{331}

One of their number, Caleb the son of Jephone, was full of

enthusiasm, and said to the people: "_Let us go up and possess

the land, for we shall be able to take it!_" But the others

that had been with him spoke ill of the country, representing it

as unhealthy, and impossible to be conquered. "_The land which

we have viewed devoureth its inhabitants; the people that we

beheld are of a tall stature. There we saw monsters of the sons

of Enac, of the giant kind, in comparison of whom we seemed like

locusts_." Why did these last give such a different account

from the first? It was because they were cowardly, and afraid of

the inhabitants of Canaan, and this blinded them to the fertility

of its soil, its fine fruits and great beauty. Their fears caused

them to exaggerate difficulties, and to overlook blessings which

were within their reach.

This party of pusillanimous Israelites represent a portion of the

Christian world in our day, who, taking counsel of their fears,

and consulting their ease, speak of the practice of self-denial,

and the virtue of penance, as something to be dreaded,

unnecessary, and even criminal. "_It is a land which devoureth

its inhabitants!_"

{332}

They imagine insurmountable obstacles in the way. "_We saw

there monsters of the sons of Enac, of the giant kind_." If

their souls were of a more robust make, if their hearts were a

little larger, their error would be dispelled, and they would see

that a life of Christian mortification, instead of devouring

them, would introduce them to the enjoyment of spiritual

advantages and pleasures such as they never yet conceived of.

They would find it a land "_which in very deed floweth with

milk and honey, as may be known by these fruits_."

Their error concerning the virtue of Self-denial is owing in some

measure to a misconception of its true meaning. To establish its

true meaning, let us ask ourselves first of all, what is a true

Christian life? The little catechism tells us that man was

created to know God, to love Him and to serve Him in this world,

and be forever happy with Him in the next. A true Christian life,

then, consists in knowing, loving and serving God. If we give any

other direction to our thoughts, or affections, or actions, we

live falsely. Self-denial, as a Christian virtue, consists in

renouncing all misdirection of the powers of the soul, or in

setting aside all things which stand in the way of our realizing

the great end for which we were created. Complete self-denial

places the soul in true and complete relations with God.

{333}

Man has become in a great measure the servant and slave of the

appetites and passions of his inferior nature, and by every act

of self-denial he recovers his lost superiority, and renders

himself again their master. Whenever, therefore, we find our

passions and appetites are leading us astray, we should resist

them, and practise self-denial and mortification. If a man, for

instance, finds that his sensual appetites lead him to gluttony

and drunkenness, he should fast and practise sobriety. If pride

and vanity are entering his heart, he should exercise himself in

humility. When he finds that the love of riches is making him

miserly, he should be liberal to the poor. Anger must be overcome

by meekness, incontinence by chastity, and sloth by vigilance and

action. Briefly, the office of self-denial is to deny to the

instincts of our lower nature what is contrary to right reason,

and to God's holy law.

{334}

Should there, however, arise conflicting claims between our

higher and lower nature, then the renunciation of one good for

another of a higher order must be practised; according to the

words of Christ: "_If thine eye scandalize thee, pluck it out,

and cast it from thee_." [Footnote 149]

[Footnote 149: St. Matt, xviii., 9.]

For what, after all, are created things, or the members of a

man's body, or even his life, compared with the eternal salvation

of his soul? Men do not hesitate to sacrifice the less to save

the greater; to cut away the masts of a ship in a storm to save

the vessel; to amputate a limb to save the whole body. It is on

this principle that our Lord declares that, "_It is better for

thee that one of thy members should perish, than that thy whole

body should go into hell_." Again our Lord says, on the same

point, "_If any man come to me, and hate not his father, and

mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sister, yea,

and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple_." [Footnote

150]

[Footnote 150: St. Luke xiv., 26.]

The meaning of our Lord is not that there is in these human ties

any thing contrary to God's law, for his commandment to us is,

"Honor thy father and thy mother;" "Love thy neighbor as

thyself."

{335}

The meaning of the text is; if your father, or your mother, or

your wife or children, or your brother or sister, or even your

own life, should stand in the way of your duty to God, then they

must be subordinated, or even sacrificed, to your obedience and

duty to Him. Our duty to God is supreme; and when the question

arises of obeying Him or clinging to something else we possess or

prize, He is content with nothing less than an unconditional

surrender. So, then, self-denial is practised not to deny one's

self of any thing that is a real good, but in regulating what is

disorderly, in repressing what is excessive, in renouncing what

is evil, that we may come in possession of our sovereign good. It

aims at restraining the excesses of our animal instincts, and

holding them in subjection to reason, and not at their

destruction. For, in themselves considered, there is nothing even

in our animal instincts which is irreconcilable with the

perfection of the soul.

The same may be said of all human relationships; if they are not

made to stand in the way of our salvation, and the keeping of the

Divine Law, they render our natural life the more complete, and

the obligation for their renunciation ceases.

{336}

Did not Christ look upon mankind with human eyes, and make all

our human feelings his own? As a son He obeyed his mother until

his death; and even while suffering on the cross, such was his

filial love and solicitude for her welfare, that He gave her in

charge to his beloved disciple. As a friend, He wept at the death

of Lazarus. In fine, all human sympathies, sorrows, and woes,

found a home in his bosom. No, there is nothing in all created

things, nor in human nature, even in its lowest appetites and

passions, which may not be brought into harmony with reason, be

reconciled with what holds the first place in the rank of our

duties, and be made to contribute and adorn the perfection of the

soul.

Sermons Preached at the Church of St. Paul the Apostle, New York, During the Year 1861. · 第 14 / 15 段