You see, my brethren, that what I desire to impress upon your

minds is that, in all sickness, from whatever cause, the will of

God is to be acknowledged. It is not every Christian, I regret to

say, who does so look upon it. Too often you will find it

regarded as a grievous misfortune, having no good reason why it

should be, and without any compensation for the loss of worldly

enjoyment and advantages which it necessarily entails; and, even

if they do agree that God has sent it, then it is because God is

angry with them. He is taking vengeance upon them. There appears

to be no other possible reason that can be given for it.

As I said before, we are afflicted with sickness not only as a

chastisement for sin, but sometimes also in mercy, as an act of

loving-kindness and forethought on the part of God; and again

very frequently, as in the case of holy Job, as an opportunity to

try our faith, to enable us to show our constancy and love to

God, and is therefore to be looked upon as a mark of

predilection, and a positive blessing and grace.

{297}

Certainly, sickness is sometimes sent as a punishment for sin. It

comes as a natural and just consequence of sinful excesses. Look

at the drunkard and the debauchee. They have gone on for awhile

in seeming impunity, but every debauch was a blow struck upon the

citadel of life and health. Soon it is shattered, and totters and

falls into ruin. Go into the streets, and you may meet them, with

haggard faces and trembling limbs. Go to the hospitals and the

insane asylums, and see those wrecks of humanity, almost soulless

men and women, drivelling idiots, and sickening masses of

corruption. Go to many a sick bedside, in palace or in hovel, in

this great city, and you may see how sin is punished by an

outraged God. And, though you yourself could not trace the fever

that blighted you for many long weeks to any natural cause, you

know that you deserved it all. Your alarmed conscience did not

fail to tell you that there were crimes of your life that

demanded retribution. Your overweening pride, your ungovernable

anger, has been humbled in the dust. Your days are shortened

because of your disobedience and cruelty to your parents.

{298}

The money you have stolen and would not restore has been wrested

from you by the heavy charges of your illness. Your disorderly

appetites and lusts are now punished with compulsory and

exhausting fasts from all food. "He hath struck you as being

wicked, in open sight; who as it were on purpose hath revolted

from Him, and would not understand His ways: so that you have

caused the cry of the needy to come up before Him, and He has

heard the voice of the poor." [Footnote 109]

[Footnote 109: Job xxxiv. 26, 28.]

You thought in your sin that you were stronger than God. Now He

has rebuked you by sorrow on the sick bed, and has made all your

bones to wither. Bread is become abominable to you, and to your

soul the meat which before you desired. You have trampled on

God's holy law; you would not go to Mass to worship Him. Now,

though you would gladly go any distance, and suffer any pain to

be present at it, you are denied that joy and consolation. You

are as one upon whom the church doors are closed, for whom the

altar is thrown down, and the priest departed. "In whatsoever a

man sins," says the Holy Scripture, "in that also shall he be

punished."

{299}

Sickness has come upon you. Why? In mercy, God sees how

indifferent you have become to Him. He sees how your soul has

become absorbed in worldly things. Your heart is following after

strange gods, and your footsteps are leading down to hell. As

Eliu said to Job, "Your guardian angel has spoken to God for you,

and said, Deliver him, that he may not go down to corruption."

and God in mercy has heard his prayers, and your way is stopped.

It is because God loves you, and would save you, that this has

come upon you. In the days of pain, and during the long, feverish

nights, you will remember God. In your anguish you will turn to

Him for comfort, and in your fear you will put your trust in Him.

This world has had too much of your heart. On a sick bed you will

be able to judge how much it is worth. You will condemn the

vanity of your life. The past will be repented of. New

resolutions will be made. You will come back to health with a

refreshed and chastened spirit. What the friend of Job said to

him, you will say of yourself: "My flesh is consumed with

punishments, that I may return to the days of my youth. I will

pray to God, and He will be gracious to me: and I shall see His

face with joy. When I look upon men, I shall say, I have sinned,

and indeed I have offended, and I have not received what I

deserved, hath delivered my soul from going into destruction,

that it may live and see the light." [Footnote 110]

[Footnote 110: Job xxxiii. 25-28.]

{300}

Yes, my dear brethren, I think this is the cause of a great deal

of the sickness that is sent upon us. The fever, the cholera, the

accident, are good preachers, and they make themselves heard. I

do not wonder, then, to see men compelled to listen to their

threatening tones, and their souls terrified at their menacing

gestures of death, and their eloquent descriptions of the coffin

and the grave. The words of God's appointed preacher fall

unheeded upon their ears. As long as they have strength enough to

hear us, they have courage enough to disobey us. But God shows

them a vision of a newly made grave, and causes their feet to

totter upon its brink, that they may not go down into it

unabsolved.

O blessed sickness! how many wandering souls have you not brought

back to a forgotten God! How many almost lost have you not

snatched from the jaws of hell! God is a kind and thoughtful

Father to us, when we often think Him a hard and cruel Master.

Like a surgeon, the deeper and more hidden the wound, the more

resolutely does he cut down upon it, and lay it open, in order to

effect a radical cure. He chastises us in mercy here, that He may

spare us at His judgment-seat in the day of His wrath.

{301}

Why are you sick, you who have no grievous crimes to expiate--you

whose whole heart has belonged to God this many a day? Because

you are the object of His special graces, and a chosen vessel of

election. What is the secret of this apparent contradiction? God

wishes to try you, and prove your constancy. Not that He doubts

you. On the contrary, He knows how true your heart is. He has

every confidence in your fidelity. But He wishes to glorify that

fidelity. He wishes to give you a chance to show that you can

trust Him in the darkness as well as in the light. He strikes

you, that you may have glorious wounds to show at the last day.

Do you not know that to suffer for any one is to give a better

proof of love than to confer favors and benefits? You have done a

good deal for God, I know. He does not forget it. He asks you to

give up that which it is the hardest thing in the world to

sacrifice--your health. It seems the most unreasonable thing to

sacrifice. Your friends and neighbors pity you. They know how

much good you were able to do when you were strong and well. They

regret to see your usefulness cut off. That usefulness was your

constant self-sacrifice for the good of your neighbor. They would

like to see that go on. They forget that God wants you to do a

little self-sacrifice for Him, for Him alone, just as if there

were no one in existence except you and He in the whole universe.

This is why you are sick and suffering.

{302}

Rejoice, then, O Christian sufferer! and bear your cross, not

only with patience and resignation, but with holy joy and a

thankful heart. Your labors are accepted in His sight, and only

this is yet wanting to you--the merit of suffering for Him.

My brethren, this is, I well know, a strange doctrine in the ears

of the world, and especially to the unbelieving world around us

in our day. Meritorious suffering is something which our

Protestant friends not only do not comprehend, but laugh at, so

that to most of them, even the very passion and death of our Lord

is an enigma. They may believe it, but it is an unreasonable

belief on their part, for they ridicule the very principle upon

which its reasonableness is founded.

The Catholic Church teaches us that there is a merit in

suffering, in voluntary mortification, in fasting and abstinence,

in giving up the world, its friendships and its pleasures; that

it is meritorious and pleasing to God for the priest and the

virgin to deny themselves the joys and comforts of the married

state; in a word, that God is glorified as well by suffering as

by act. This is her principle. It is the only principle which can

give any reasonable explanation of the atoning sacrifice of our

Lord, and to deny it is to deny Christ.

Accidental, or rather Providential, suffering, such as we have in

sickness, is turned to the same account, and sanctified by our

offering it to God in the spirit of sacrifice; for it is not in

the act of suffering itself, but in the will, that merit is

obtained.

{303}

Now, my brethren, you see in what spirit we should receive and

endure sickness. The will should accept it at once, calmly,

willingly, without murmur or complaint. It is God's will. That

should be sufficient. Our own will must respond and make an

entire and generous offering of it. In the beginning of sickness,

then, let us say, O my God! I accept this at your hands with all

the pain I shall suffer, whatever may be the reason you have so

willed it, in satisfaction for my sins, as an admonition to lead

a better life, and as a happy chance to suffer something for your

sake in union with the sufferings of my Lord and Saviour Jesus

Christ. Help me by your grace to profit by it as you desire.

While the sickness lasts, let us often look back upon God, as a

gallant knight upon a perilous journey thinks upon his liege

lord, whose behests are his law, and whose honor is in his hands,

renewing again and again our first fervent offering and oath of

fidelity. There will be times when we need to think upon

God--times of trial and temptation, when nothing but the thought

of God will support us. For there are moments of suffering, when

our nearest and dearest friends are dumb in our presence; when

the friendly hand, uncertain, stops and hesitates before us,

fearing lest too rudely it may draw aside the veil that shrouds

our anguish--agonizing moments when all human thought and

language dies upon the threshold.

{304}

Happy the soul who then knows whither to turn for that longed-for

comfort which the world in its weakness cannot give! Happy is he

who has learned the secret of sanctifying suffering! For such the

Lord's words have a meaning: "Blessed are they that mourn: for

they shall be comforted."

These thoughts and the lessons they teach appear to my mind not

inappropriate to the season through which we are passing. Nature

is putting on her autumn garb of sombre tints, telling us that

her strength and beauty are passing away, and that her days of

brightness are declining. The woods, once vocal with the song of

birds, now begin to look lonely and deserted. Their stillness is

broken only by the rustling fall of the dry and withered leaves,

like the stealthy and hushed footsteps heard in the sick chamber.

The sighing of the winds through the branches robbed of their

crown of verdure is mournful in the ears of the listener, as the

low, dreamy moanings in a sick man's sleep. They both speak of

decay and whisper of death. Of those of us, my brethren, for whom

God is preparing the couch of sickness, against whose sight the

light of day will be shut out, and upon whose prostrate form the

shadows of suffering will soon fall, some will rise and walk

forth in the warm sunshine of a hopeful spring, and some, like

the fallen leaves, will never flourish again, but lie, like them,

to crumble, decay, and mingle with the dust.

{305}

Their white pall of the winter snow shall also be ours. The

fierce winter storm shall howl its doleful requiem over our heads

as it passes by, but we shall not heed it. The earth shall smile

in beauty again, but not for us.

Oh! be it for us as it may--God knoweth! it will be well for us

to have thought upon sickness, and to have prepared our souls for

the trial. If health be again granted to us, we shall return to

it again all the better for having known how to receive it and

how to improve its time. If not, then, when our name shall have

become a memory, and our form a vision of the never-returning

past, we shall look back from the further shore of the dark river

of death over which we have passed, and be glad that we learned

how to lean upon God in those last dreadful hours in life, glad

that we offered to Him beforehand the willing sacrifice of health

and strength and life, and thus ascended from the altar of the

bed of suffering, as a victim of acceptable merit in the sight of

Him who rewards, more than tongue can tell, the least we ever do

or suffer for His sake.

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

{306}

Sermon XXI.

Thoughts For Advent.

(For The Third Sunday Of Advent.)

Philippians iv. 8.

"__For the rest, brethren,

whatsoever things are true,

whatsoever things are modest,

whatsoever things are just,

whatsoever things are holy,

whatsoever things are amiable,

whatsoever things are of good repute;

if there be any virtue,

if there be any praise of discipline,

think on these things__."

The Christian is so deeply impressed with the truth, that a time

will come when his faith will be changed to sight, his hope be

realized in reward, and his charity be perfected in the enjoyment

of all that is good, that he may be said to have this thought

always uppermost in his mind. It regulates his conduct, consoles

him in affliction, cheers him in the hour of darkness and of

doubt, and puts in his mouth and hands the words and deeds of

encouragement to his fellows. It is a magnetic thought, which,

amid the storms and tempests of life, and through all its weary

wanderings, keeps one's heart ever turned towards God and

eternity.

{307}

This blessed time for which we are all looking is the coming of

the Lord, the manifestation and glorious consummation of the

Kingdom of God. As the Apostle expresses it: "Looking for the

blessed hope and coming of the glory of the great God and our

Saviour Jesus Christ." [Footnote 111]

[Footnote 111: Ep. Titus ii. 13.]

The holy season of Advent brings this truth more strongly before

us, and directs our thoughts to it by the Gospel prophecies of

the second advent of Christ, and by the warnings to prepare for

it which St. Paul gives so often in his epistles. The words of

the text follow immediately the admonition of the great Apostle

which the Church has chosen for the third Sunday of Advent: "The

Lord is nigh." Let us to-day, then, think on these things, and

endeavor to make these thoughts profitable.

I. __Whatsoever things are true__. Here is a thought worth

thousands. We look around us, and see so much insincerity,

duplicity, and double-dealing; we meet so many who will overreach

us with a friendly smile on their countenance, and cheat us

without a blush, that we are tempted both to exclaim with David,

in haste, "All men are liars," and to descend from our Christian

stand-point of high integrity and noble frankness, in order to

cope with the world after its own fashion, and meet it with its

own weapons.

{308}

But it is an unfortunate day for the Christian when he begins to

forget or disbelieve in what is true, and to think on what is

false. His mind is quickly pervaded with a subtle poison, which

induces a meanness towards his fellow-men--a distrust of their

good faith, and ends in a practical disbelief of the Providence

of God. To him such unmerited success as attends the corrupt and

swindling practices of the day is at first astonishing. The

wicked seem to have it all their own way, and profit by the

delay, and despite the coming of the hour when the secrets of all

hearts shall be revealed before the judgment-seat of Christ. His

Christian simplicity and candor gives way little by little before

the attacks of this lying spirit; his faith in truth, honesty,

and pure motives is gone, and his practice is not slow to follow

his faith.

It is a trite saying that the world is full of humbug, but it is

a degrading thought; and to accept this saying as a universal

truth, or as the guide of his actions, is unworthy of the

Christian man. I envy not the man who acts on the despicable

maxim, "Treat every man as a rogue until he has proved himself

honest." Rather, a thousand times, would I trust in the power of

truth, be true to myself, and, if need be, suffer the loss

thereby; for he who has cheated me is the loser in the end, while

I have preserved, for a small price, that which is above value,

my Christian honor and loyalty to truth.

{309}

Sincerity and candor are not dead, neither has humbug killed

them. There are many true people in the world, be there ever so

many hypocrites; and truth is always living, real,

indestructible, for it lives with a divine, immortal life.

Remembering our blessed Lord's words, then, let our "speech be

always yea, yea, and nay, nay; for that which is over and above

these is of evil." [Footnote 112] Whatsoever things are true, let

us think on these.

[Footnote 112: St. Matt. v. 37.]

From another point of view, what a thought that is for those who

are out of the pale of the Catholic Church! Have they the true

faith? Have they now that truth which shall stand the trial at

the coming of Jesus Christ? Do they consider their present state

a true one in all respects--true before their conscience, and

without doubt before their intelligence? Do they regard their

religion as a sure religion? What a serious thought it ought to

be for many of them who are even now struggling with the strong

power of duty, which bids them make their calling and election

sure, by embracing, at all hazards, and with ready obedience and

trust in God, that truth in the Holy Catholic Church, without

which they would not now dare to die.

{310}

Oh! how earnestly, sincerely, and courageously ought they to

listen to the Apostle's words, and think upon those things which

are true!

There is one of the eight beatitudes for those who think upon the

truth. It is the first: "Blessed are the poor in spirit: for

theirs is the kingdom of heaven"--the poor in spirit; the simple

in heart and mind; a heart and mind to which cunning, duplicity,

or falsehood is both strange and repulsive. Theirs is the kingdom

of heaven which Christ will bring at His coming, who are poor and

humble in spirit, receiving God's truth as a little child, and

not rejecting it with high-minded and arrogant self-will, or with

proud disdain. Brethren, whatsoever things are true; let us think

on these things during the Holy Advent time.

II. __Whatsoever things are modest__. Modesty is a marked and

well-known characteristic of the Christian. No one would ever

think of using the expressions, "heathen modesty" or "Mohammedan

modesty," simply because it is neither a heathen nor a Mohammedan

virtue. The Apostle evidently uses it here in the sense of

reservedness of action which springs from true humility of heart.

This displays itself in a most pleasing manner to us in the

persons of those who, though endowed with some remarkable talent

or accomplishment, yet, through the Christian humility they

possess, are not on that account arrogant and puffed up, but bear

their honors meekly, and with gentle, unassuming manners.

{311}

So with their natural gifts. God has given to some, more than to

others, beauty of face or form, or some personal qualification

which excites our admiration or affection. And in those who are

thus favored, how much all this beauty is enhanced by the

softened halo which Christian modesty and reserve throws about

them! Who would pretend to compare the beauty of the haughty and

sensual Magdalen, flaunting her profane charms in the streets of

Capharnaum, the theme for the toasts of libertines, to the beauty

of the saintly and almost angelic penitent, bathing the feet of

Jesus with her tears, and wiping them with her dishevelled hair!

He whose thoughts are modest cultivates an unselfish spirit.

Alas! what with our fund of pride, our intolerant self-will, and

ungovernable temper, how much we need to think on whatsoever

things are modest! How prone we are to stand upon our rights; how

ready to quarrel with and grumble about our neighbors! A

profitable thought for the Advent time, St. Paul urged this

especially: "Let your modesty be known of all men." And why so?

Because "the Lord is nigh." Yes, He is nigh who taught us a

similar lesson: "Learn of Me; for I am meek and humble of heart."

[Footnote 113]

[Footnote 113: St. Matt. xi. 29.]

{312}

At His coming He will recognize for His own flock, not the

wolves, but the sheep; not the bold-faced and giddy votaries of

fashion and pleasure, but the meek and humble Christians, whose

beauty is the beauty of their holiness. It is not the useless

thorns and briers, which no one can approach without being

wounded, but the hidden and inoffensive wheat that will be

gathered into the garner of the Lord.

There are two beatitudes for the modest-minded--the second and

the third: "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the

earth." And again; "Blessed are the mourners: for they shall be

comforted." For the meek and modest, who possess as though they

had not; who teach as though they learned; who rule as though

they obeyed; whose beauty of body and soul shines among men as

though they but reflected that of others; whose inheritance is

renunciation, and whose wealth is in their gifts; for them is the

whole earth reserved, in its beauty and its glory, at the coming

of the Lord. For the blessed mourners, whose perfection in

Christian modesty has led them to fly all worldly honors and

escape its flatteries; to exchange the gay paths of life for the

tearful road of penance, and whose contrite and humble hearts God

has promised not to despise--for them is dawning an everlasting

day of comfort.

{313}

III. __Whatsoever things are just__. The just man always

desires to act honorably and fairly in his dealings. The

Christian is required to give anxious thought as well to the

obligations he has contracted towards his neighbor. The closing

year naturally brings these obligations to mind; the debts that

are owing, the promises made, and the claims for support which

others hold against us; and it is a mark of the good,

conscientious Catholic that he is anxious about these things, and

is earnestly striving to discharge them.

A wise thought for Advent. For now the Lord is nigh, the day of

His Judgment approaches, when all wrongs will be made right. The

unjust escape payment here, through some quibble in the law, or

through practices of chicanery and partial testimony of which

they take an unfair advantage, but whose unpaid debts and hidden

thefts will not escape the memory of their righteous Judge on the

last day. Let our thoughts be, then, to render quickly unto every

man his due, "because the Lord cometh, because he cometh to judge

the earth. He shall judge the world with justice, and the people

with His truth."

{314}

He who thinks upon whatsoever is just will think upon the poor.

It is the word of God, that "the just taketh notice of the poor,

but the wicked is ignorant of them." [Footnote 114]

[Footnote 114: Prov. xxix. 7.]

God has given to the poor and needy rights which no Christian man

can ignore. They are committed to him by his Master, and their

Friend and Protector, to be taken care of, to be thought about,

to be sought out and ministered unto. Oh! a thousand times

happier is he who in Advent time thinks upon the poor: when

winter, with his icy blasts, is making the poor shiver with cold

and nakedness; when the poor man goes sadly home to find the

cupboard bare and his little ones moaning for hunger; when lonely

widows and friendless girls, whose homes are in hovels and

cheerless garrets, sit up far into the night with no fire in the

stove, warming their weary and chilled fingers over the candle,

that they may be able to ply the needle that keeps them from

starvation. Oh! blessed is that man who, knowing no hunger or

thirst for his body, yet hungers and thirsts in his soul after

justice for the poor; whose thoughts revert to them when the

weather grows colder, and the storm howls more fiercely, and can

say when he lays his head upon his pillow at night: "Thank God, I

have not forgotten them to-day!"

{315}

Sermons by the Fathers of the Congregation of St. Paul the Apostle, Volume VI. · 第 15 / 16 段