CHAPTER IX

MUST I ACCEPT THE INVITATION?

It is not the purpose of the writer to exaggerate, to frighten or

coerce persons into religious life, by holding out threats of God's

displeasure to those who refuse, or by citing examples of those whose

careers were blighted through failure to heed the Divine call. It is

His desire rather to imitate Christ's manner of action, portraying the

beauty and excellence of virtue, and then leaving it to the promptings

of aspiring hearts to follow the leadings of grace.

Christ, all mildness and meekness as He was, uttered terrible

denunciations against sin and the false leaders of the people; but

nowhere do we read that He denounced or threatened those who failed to

accept His tender and loving call to the life of perfection. To draw

men's hearts He used not compulsion, but the lure of kindness and

affection.

Our Lord sometimes commanded and sometimes counselled and between

these there is a difference. When a command is given by lawful

superiors it must be obeyed, and that under penalty. God gave the

commandments amidst thunder and lightning on Mount Sinai, and those

commandments, as precepts of the natural law, or because corroborated

in the New Testament, persist in the main to-day, and any one who

violates them, refuses to keep them, is guilty of disobedience to God,

commits a sin. But when Christ proclaimed the counsels, He was merely

giving advice or exhortation, and hence no one was obliged to follow

them under pain of His displeasure. Suppose a mother has two sons, who

both obey exactly her every command, and one also takes her advice in

a certain matter, while the other does not; she will love the second

not less, but the first more. So of two boys, who are both favorites

of God, if one accept and the other decline a proffered vocation, He

will love the latter as before, but the former how much more tenderly!

Moreover, God loves the cheerful giver. By doing, out of an abundance

of charity and fervor, what you are not obliged to do, you gain ampler

merit for yourself, since you perform more than your duty, and at the

same time you give greater glory to God, showing that He has willing

children, who bound their service to Him by no bargaining

considerations of weight and measure. But if, through fear of threat

or punishment, you make an offering to God, your gift loses, to an

extent, the worth and spontaneity of a heart-token.

Some think that not to accept the invitation to the counsels, is to

show disregard and contempt for God's grace and favor, and hence

sinful. But how does a young person act when he declines this

proffered gift? He equivalently says, with tears in his eyes, "My

Saviour, I appreciate deeply Thy invitation to the higher life; I envy

my companions who are so courageous as to follow Thy counsel; but,

please be not offended with me if I have not the courage to imitate

their example. I beg Thee to let me serve Thee in some other way." Is

there anything of contempt in such a reply? No more than if a child

would tearfully pray its mother not to send it into a dark room to

fetch something; and as such a mother, instead of insisting on her

request, would only kiss away her child's tears, so will God treat one

who weeps because he cannot muster courage to tread closely in His

blood-stained footsteps.

The young have little relish for argumentative quotations and texts,

but it may interest them to know that Saints Basil, Chrysostom,

Gregory Nazianzen, Cyprian, Augustine and other Fathers all speak in a

similar strain, holding that, as a vocation is a free gift or counsel,

it may be declined without sin. [1] The great Theologians, St. Thomas,

Suarez, Bellarmine and Cornelius a Lapide also agree on this point.

But putting aside the question of sin, we must admit that one who

clearly realizes that the religious life is best for him and

consequently more pleasing to God, would, by neglecting to avail

himself of this grace, betray a certain ungenerosity of soul and a

lack of appreciation of spiritual things, in depriving himself of a

gift which would be the source of so many graces and spiritual

advantages.

Do not, then, dear reader, embrace the higher life merely from motives

of fear--which were unworthy an ingenuous child of God--but rather to

please the Divine Majesty. You are dear to Him, dearer than the

treasures of all the world. He loves you so much that He died for you,

and now He asks you in return to nestle close to His heart, where He

may ever enfold His arms about you, and lavish his blandishments upon

your soul. Will you come to Him, your fresh young heart still sweet

with the dew of innocence, and become His own forevermore? Will you

say farewell to creatures, and rest upon that Bosom whose love and

tenderness for you is high as the stars, wide as the universe, and

deep as the sea? Come to the tender embraces of your heavenly spouse,

and heaven will have begun for you on earth.

[1] The hypothetical case, sometimes mentioned by casuists, of one who

is convinced that for him salvation outside of religion is impossible,

can here safely be passed over as unpractical for young readers.

What Shall I Be? A Chat With Young People · 第 9 / 15 章