feelings, would not our visits and our communions be the gainers? And
would not the affections of the heart often follow the lead of faith? A
few minutes spent in trying to bring home to ourselves that He Who is
really present a few yards from where we sit or kneel is the world’s
long-promised Messiah, Whose advent kings and prophets desired to see;
Whom in His own time all men desired to see and hear; He at Whose feet
Mary sat at Bethany, unmindful of all but that Face and that Voice; He
Whose words--“Peace be still,” “Thy brother shall rise again,” “Go,
and now sin no more”--brought hope and joy to the troubled heart; He
Who fell on His Face under the olive trees, crushed to the earth by my
sins; Who died with the thought and the love of me in His Heart that
Good Friday long ago; Who is to come again in the eastern sky where
every eye shall see Him--a few minutes of earnest dwelling on thoughts
such as these will rouse in our souls faith and hope and charity, will
kindle humility, sorrow, gratitude, desire--for fuel is furnished for
the fire.
“Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief.” I believe that beneath Your
humble veils You are here truly present, O hidden God! I believe the
day draws near when You will be the hidden God no more; when I shall
see You coming in the clouds of heaven with great power and majesty,
all nature trembling at Your approach; whilst the elect lift up their
heads because their redemption is at hand.
O Judge of the living and the dead, in that awful day remember me!
Remember me when You come to gather Your own into Your kingdom!
Remember, I beseech You, in that second coming, how often I have
welcomed You at Your hidden coming, and let my heart welcome and leap
up to meet You then.
Jesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio,
Oro, fiat illud, quod tam sitio,
Ut, Te revelata cernens facie,
Visu sim beatus Tuae gloriae.
O Jesu, Whom by faith I now descry
Shrouded from mortal eye;
When wilt Thou slake the thirsting of my heart
To see Thee as Thou art,
Face unto face in all Thy glad array,
’Tranced with the glory of that everlasting day.
--G. T.
[45] Luke xviii.
[46] _Ibid._ xxiv.
XII.
AFTER A DEFEAT.
Let not this thing discourage thee, for various is the event of
war.--2 _Kings_ xi. 25.
The cheery words You have for me, O Lord and Leader, when downcast and
troubled I come to tell You of another reverse to our arms! Truly Your
ways are not our ways. With us results are everything. A general may do
his best, take every precaution, be skilful in preparation, and brave
in action. Yet repeated mishaps will beget mistrust, and he will find
himself superseded in command. It must be so. But it is not Your way
with us.
I have not done my best. I have been careless in preparation, and weak
and cowardly in action. Yet You have nothing but encouragement for
me after a rout. No reproach, no withdrawal of confidence: “Fight
like a good soldier; and if sometimes thou fall through frailty, rise
up again with greater strength than before, confiding in My more
abundant grace”.[47] At my first call for help reinforcements are sent
to the front, not _less_, by reason of my unfaithfulness, but
_more_, because of my need. And if I am superseded in command, it
is only by Your coming Yourself on to the field, and so strengthening
my hands, that all must give way before us.
I am sorry, O my Chief, for the dishonour to Your name and the loss
to Your cause through my fault. But I do not despond. I may fail in
everything else, but in trust I will never fail. If I am overthrown
seventy-seven times in the day, I will return to the charge as often,
my resolution the same, my confidence the same as at first. These
perpetual beginnings are painful, weary work, but Your patience, Lord,
will never fail: neither shall my goodwill. I know that the struggle
itself brings You glory. I know that if I keep up the struggle to the
end, You will meet me when the time of trial is over with the welcome
word: “_Well done!_”
Fearful of self, with sore temptation pressing,
I hasten, God of armies, unto Thee,
My every power, my every sense confessing
Its insufficiency.
Taught by the past there is no help in me,
I cast myself on Thee.
This is not hard. But false in face of Heaven,
To turn with trusting heart again to Thee,
Not once, not twice, but seventy times seven,
In brave humility:
When smarting self would hide its misery,
To cast myself on Thee--
Lord, _this is hard_. Thine eye alone can measure
The weary pain of each relapse to me:
Yet fraught with grace, all stored with hidden treasure,
Is my infirmity;
Strongest of pleas, the creature’s frailty,
That casts it upon Thee.
[47] Imit. of Christ, iii. 6.
XIII.
AFTER A VICTORY.
Thanks be to God, Who hath given us the victory through our Lord Jesus
Christ.--1 _Cor._ xv. 57.
So often, dear Lord, so very often I come to You with my defeats, that
it is a refreshment to have something more cheering to offer to Your
Sacred Heart.
* * * * *
_Thanks be to God_--It was Your grace, my God, throughout--before,
accompanying, crowning--my share just the co-operation that did not
reject the help You gave.
_Who hath given us_--given _me_, so weak, so cowardly, so
little to be depended on in moments of trouble and conflict; _me_,
such a disgrace to the colours often, such a sorry soldier at best--
_The victory_--nothing much for anyone else, but something of a
triumph, dear Lord, for me. Our small successes are not accounted small
by You, O generous Leader. You welcome all, are proud of all, lay up
reward and praise for all against the day of reward.
_Through our Lord Jesus Christ_, by Whom, with Whom, in Whom we
overcome. We can do all things in Him Who strengthens us. _Jesu, Tibi
sit gloria!_ Thanks be to God, Who has given us the victory through
our Lord Jesus Christ.
XIV.
A DIVINE FRIEND.
The woman ... came and fell down before Him, and told Him all the
truth.--_Mark_ v. 33.
_The whole truth._ Only to one Friend can we tell that. Only
one friendship could bear the strain of that revelation. The very
exigencies of other friendships call for restraint. Can we own to want
of confidence, to utter coldness and callousness, to a want of sympathy
in joys and sorrows that move to its depths the heart of our friend?
Could the most self-forgetting of human friendships bear up against
avowals such as these?
No; we must draw the line here unless we want the free flowing waters
gradually to freeze into a glacier. Owning to mistrust will hardly be
accepted as a mark of trust, nor will the acknowledgment of coldness
beget love. Poor affection of these human hearts of ours!--jealous
and suspicious at the least show of reticence, yet unable to bear the
disclosures of unreserve. We cannot be hard upon a weakness common
to us all, but we long for a heart human like our own, yet strong
enough to support the weight of all we would put upon it. Nor are
we disappointed. Here in the tabernacle is what we seek. Here is a
Heart waiting for all, ready for all. Here we may unbosom ourselves
completely. Here we may tell _the whole truth_. Narrowness and
fickleness, heartlessness, mistrust, selfishness--ingratitude even, we
may tell. We may trust all to this Beloved without fear. For He knows
what is in man. No revelation will surprise Him, no misery disgust
Him. He will welcome each painful avowal with the tenderest sympathy,
and take all we tell Him as tokens of trust for which He is infinitely
obliged to us.
XV.
AN EVENING VISIT.
Stay with us, because it is towards evening.--_Luke_ xxiv. 29.
It is at night especially that the shepherd looks well to his sheep.
Good Shepherd, I gather round You to-night the sheep of Your world-wide
flock and commit them to Your keeping. Wherever they are to be found,
there are You in the midst of them. In crowded cities--the guardian
of the multitudes sleeping around You on every side. In the one spot
of the quiet village where a light will burn to-night--the Keeper
of the simple souls around You there. In many a hut the wide world
over--content among savage tribes to share the poor shelter of Your
priest. Everywhere warding off the prowling wolf and the evil that
walketh in the dark.[48] With us not only all days, but all nights
unto the end of time.
_Stay with us_, Lord, to-night. Stay to adore, and praise, and
give thanks for us whilst we sleep; to draw down mercy and grace upon
the world; to succour from earth’s tabernacles the holy suffering souls
in purgatory in their long night of weary pain.
_Stay with us_, to ward off the anger of God from our crowded
cities with their dens of vice, their crimes that call to Heaven for
vengeance.
_Stay with us_, to guard the innocent, to sustain the tempted, to
raise the fallen, to curb the power of the evil one, to prevent sin.
_Stay with us_, to comfort the sorrowing, to bless the death-beds,
to grant contrition to the dying, to receive into the arms of Your
mercy the thousands that this night must come before You for judgment.
O Good Shepherd, stay with Your sheep! Secure them against the perils
that beset them. Stay, above all, with the suffering and the dying.
“Grant us a quiet night and a perfect end.” Be our merciful Shepherd to
the last, that without fear we may appear before You as our Judge.
_Stay with us, Lord, to-night._ More favoured than the camp of
Israel slumbering under the guardianship of the pillar of fire, we
sleep with the Presence of God Incarnate shielding us on every side.
Well may we say: “In peace, in the self same, I will sleep and I will
rest”.
* * * * *
“Vouchsafe, O Lord, this night to keep us without sin.”
I map out the whole world into districts, and place each under the
jurisdiction of the nearest tabernacle. From that centre let the
radiance of the Divine protection go forth to every soul within its
circuit, enlightening, guarding--above all, strengthening against sin.
O Lord, from every tabernacle send forth to-night a strong efficacious
grace, to stop not one but a thousand sins. Because we have made the
Most High our refuge,[49] let no evil come near to hurt us. “Save us, O
Lord, waking, and keep us while we sleep, that we may watch with Christ
and rest in peace.”
[48] Psa. xc.
[49] Psa. xc.
XVI.
PRIVILEGED.
My lots are in Thy hands.--_Psa._ xxx. 15.
Suppose, my God, You had told us that as we know the worth of our soul,
You were going to trust us with the choice of the means by which its
salvation is to be worked out; You were going to put before us riches
and poverty, sickness and health, success and failure, a long life and
a short one, and we might take which seemed best for us. Should we be
content? Should we not say, if we were wise: “My God, do not trust this
to me. I shall choose, I know I shall, what I like, not what is best
for me.”
And suppose You were to tell us there were souls to whom You would
not entrust such a decision. Either they were too weak, or You were
so anxious to save them that You had left the choice of means, not
to themselves, but to those who love them better than they love
themselves, and who would choose for them more wisely--to their
guardian angel, to their patron saint, even to the Seat of Wisdom
herself--and if we wished You would let us be one of those favoured
souls. Should we be content then? Or should we say: “My God, forgive
me for being mistrustful still. I know my guardian angel and my holy
patrons, and most of all my Mother Mary, love me dearly and would
do their best for me.” But their wisdom after all is not infinite.
They might make a mistake, and that mistake might mean the loss of
_everything_ to me. I cannot afford any risk here. My soul is my
only one; I must save it whatever happens. I dare not keep it in my
own hands, and I dare not trust it even to the highest and holiest and
wisest of those around Your throne.
And suppose once again You were to say to us: “There are a few, a
very few, whose salvation is so dear to Me that I will trust the
choice of means to no one. I will plan and arrange all Myself. Nothing
shall happen to them but what has been foreseen and prepared from all
eternity by My Infinite Wisdom and Goodness. No one shall touch them;
no joy nor sorrow shall come in their way--no, nor a hair of their head
fall to the ground without My knowledge and permission.” Should we not
cry out: “My God--I hardly dare to ask it; but, oh, that I might be one
of that happy chosen few, for surely they are safe!”
You check me by a warning: “These souls will not have all their own way
in life. Their road will sometimes be hard and rugged. They will see
things prosper in the hands of others and fail in theirs. They will
be hardly used by those around them--misjudged, set aside, unjustly
treated; life to many of them will be uphill work.” Do I draw back now,
or do I cry out again: “No matter that, oh, no matter that at all!
What will they care when they know Your arm is round them as they go
uphill; Your hand sends the cross and the failure and the pain! No, my
God, that does not frighten me. Let me only be one of those whose lot
is altogether in Your hands, and I will fear nothing; I will complain
of nothing; nay, I will be grateful for all that comes to me. I will
kiss Your hand even when You strike me. I shall feel peaceful and happy
always in the thought that it is the wisdom of my God that orders all
for me, and the love of my heavenly Father that provides everything to
help me. Let me be one of those chosen ones, and You will see how I
value my privilege, how I prize whatever You send.”
* * * * *
_Suppose_--I have been saying. But this is no supposition. I am
that privileged one whose life in its minutest details is Your ordering
and Your care. How can I complain, my God! How can I be mistrustful or
even anxious--“My lots are in Thy hands”.
XVII.
THE IMPROVIDENCE OF LOVE.
My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways My ways, saith the
Lord.--_Isa._ lv. 8.
How often I kneel here before the tabernacle and make my genuflection
and my act of faith without realising in the very least what I believe,
what I adore. How little I heed that where I stand is holy ground. That
a few paces from me lies the most mysterious of all mysteries, “the
mystery of faith,” the mystery of love--love that with infinite wisdom
and infinite power at its service has here reached its limits, has
found bounds which God Himself cannot overpass.
And yet _is_ the Eucharist after all the greatest of mysteries?
Has it not its source in a deeper mystery still? Is anything wonderful
after the Incarnation? Does not the marvel of God made Man outstrip all
other marvels? If the Creator out of love for man must needs annihilate
Himself so far as to assume a created nature, where will such love
stop? Into what further extravagances of love will it not be betrayed?
But how was it, my God, that Your infinite wisdom did not fear the
consequences of such prodigality; did not remember who those are with
whom You have to deal; did not consider that too great lavishness
blunts the edge of our appreciation and our gratitude? Had You taken
counsel of us, O loving Lord, we should have bid You in the very
interests of love not to overdo its manifestation, not to make Yourself
too easy of access, lest familiarity should endanger reverence. Daily
Communion; the easy, easy conditions on which You come to us; the
tarrying day and night in every church throughout the world--this we
should have said would bring about a contempt of these sacred mysteries
and deprive You of the love which is the end of their institution.
You would have had to own to the justice of our remonstrance, to
acknowledge that such fears were well grounded. It was not safe to ask
counsel--except of Your own Heart. “Who hath known the mind of the
Lord? and who hath been His counsellor?”[50] Only His Heart. O Sacred
Heart, how sadly You have laid Him open to every sort of indignity--to
indifference, coldness, outrage, sacrilege. Yet, in spite of all, this
Gift of God is without repentance,[51] “for My thoughts are not your
thoughts, nor your ways My ways, saith the Lord”.
[50] Isa. xl.
[51] Rom. xi.
XVIII.
CHANGES.
Behold, I make all things new!--_Apoc._ xxi. 5.
How easily changes come about under Your hand, O Lord! Noiselessly,
almost unnoticed, every hour of the day and night, all the world over,
the most stupendous change is taking place--the change of the lowly
substance of bread into Your Sacred Body, of wine into Your Precious
Blood.
So is it in the world of souls. The most marvellous transformations
cost You but a word. _Follow Me!_ And instantly apostle after
apostle leaves all and follows You--mind, heart, views, ambitions,
the whole aspect of life changed. _Saul, Saul, why persecutest
thou Me?_ And he who had “beyond measure persecuted the Church of
God”[52] rises to his feet ready to carry the name of Jesus “before
the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Israel”.[53]
With a word You can change _me_. The apathy for spiritual things
would go--the dulness of sight, the slowness of heart, the low aims,
the weak desires, the feebleness in the conflict with self, the
niggardliness in Your service--all these would go. You could draw
me within Your attraction; You could make me follow You, not simply
through duty or interest, but with the quick step of one to whom Your
service is the absorbing interest of life. You could make Yourself so
much the need of my soul that it would turn to You as the flowers to
the sun for warmth and colour, for growth, for beauty, for its very
life. With a word You could work a change such as this. And what is
there to hinder it? You are there in the tabernacle, O Sun of Justice,
near enough to warm me through and through with Your heat; and oh, how
often, did I only desire it, You would come still nearer, entering my
very heart to make it live by You!
Say the word that You desire to say more than I to hear. Speak, Lord,
for Thy servant heareth. Say the transforming word each morning over my
heart when You stand at the altar and say it over the bread and wine.
Say the word that will change the lowliest, the vilest thing of earth
_into Yourself_. See my heart, see the hearts of all I love upon
the paten, awaiting there Your creative word. Change them from what
they are to what You would have them be.
[52] Gal. i.
[53] Acts ix.
XIX.
I HAVE SOMEWHAT TO SAY TO THEE.
--_Luke_ vii. 40.
A word to me? a word for me apart
No other ear to hearken--heart to heart?
A word Thy hidden pleasure to impart?
O Master, say it!
Is it a word of love, entreating mine--
Poor recompense indeed for love divine,
Yet precious to that human Heart of Thine?
Dear Master, say it!
A word of blame? Lord, I deserve it--nay,
No word of Thine can I deserve--yet may
I know what chiding love would have Thee say?
O Master, say it!
A word to cast aside my craven fears,
And bravely bear the cross these many years
Dragged after Thee with protest and with tears?
O Master, say it!
Perchance a dreaded word, not once or twice,
But often suing for a gift of price;
Can I invite that call to sacrifice?
Yes, Master, say it!
A word from Thee the rightful course will trace,
A word from Thee the shrinking spirit brace,
A word from Thee bestow all needful grace,
O Master, say it!
No word of Thine but gives before it takes,
And taking, generous compensation makes,
And effort asking, energy awakes,
O Master, say it!
A warning maybe--frighted love’s disguise,
How stern soe’er in seeming, kindly wise,
Unveiling danger to unwary eyes?
O Master, say it!
Thy voice is ever music to mine ear,
Silence alone o’erwhelms my soul with fear
Say all, say freely what I crave to hear,
O Master, say it!
One tender word to Thomas brought belief,
One pitying word, a kingdom to a thief,
One only word would bring my soul relief,
O Master, say it!
New shape would aims, desires, affections take,
New power of sacrifice within me wake,
New need of toil and suffering for Thy sake,
O Master, say it!
One word, I know, Thou hast for me--a word
In the still hours of prayer how often heard,
Not long, perchance, its welcome sound deferred,
O Master, say it!
Word life’s incessant prayer must wrest from Thee;
Word holding my eternal destiny,
Word I must hear or perish utterly,
O Master, say it!
When past my little day of time and grace,
Lone in another world I seek my place,
And trembling fall before Thy unveiled Face,
Dear Master, say it!
_Come!_--blest recall from exile’s weary years,
Rest from the awful strife ’twixt hopes and fears,
Sweet word of welcome after toil and tears,
O Master, say it!
Though silent now, keep Thou that word in store,
The word to make me Thine for evermore;
By all Thy loving-kindness, I implore,
Dear Master, say it!
XX.
A DIVINE PLAINT.
My people have done two evils. They have forsaken Me, the fountain of
living water, and have digged to themselves cisterns, broken cisterns,
that can hold no water.--_Jer._ ii. 13.
What heart so hard but could find a motive for contrition in this
tender reproach! No question here of the Divine majesty outraged, the
Divine rights infringed. The harm _to ourselves_--this is the evil
we have done by forsaking God. And He stands sadly by, watching our
futile efforts to fill with earth’s sorry pleasures the hearts created
for Himself.
The plaint is echoed by the Incarnate Son. “_You will not come to
Me that you may have life._”[54] And echoed not once, nor from
Jerusalem only, but through all time and from the countless tabernacles
where the Eucharistic Life is being lived for us. How is it that
that cry does not arrest us as we go heedlessly on our way? What a
difference it would make to our round of daily toil and worries and
anxieties if we carried away oftener from the altar the Life Who is
waiting there to give Himself to us. He would not encroach upon our
time. He is the most considerate of guests, and knows we are no more
able to lay aside our domestic cares than was His own blessed Mother
in her little cave-home at Nazareth. He would not interfere with our
projects, our occupations, our amusements even. But He would act the
part of a helpmate throughout, guiding our plans, sanctifying our work,
ennobling our pleasures--above all, sharing and soothing our sorrows.
Is an ally such as this so easily found that we can afford to turn a
deaf ear to the invitation from the tabernacle: “Whom seekest thou--a
friend? I am He.”
* * * * *
O Loving One, who are we that You should so earnestly entreat our
friendship? Have You not thronging about You legions upon legions of
angels? What need can You have of us? Yet You not only tolerate our
society but beg for it. The little troublesome children whom strangers
find a nuisance are a solace to the father, who feels something to
be missing unless he has them pressing and chattering all about him.
So is it with You. To satisfy Your Heart You must have us, needy and
clamorous, all about You, besetting You on every side.
Lord, had we always treated You as You deserve, could You be more in
love with our company? Surely Your eagerness should drive away fear
that our uncouthness and coldness will disgust You. Love “is patient,
is kind, ... beareth all things, ... hopeth all things, endureth all
things.”[55] O Lord and Lover, we will not disappoint You. Since You
are content to have us as we are, we will draw near to You without
fear: “Behold we come to Thee; for Thou art the Lord our God”.[56]
[54] John v.
[55] 1 Cor. xiii.
[56] Jer. iii.
XXI.
THANKSGIVING.
And he fell on his face before His feet, giving thanks.--_Luke_
xvii. 16.
Just as I do to-day, dear Lord, in the fulness of my heart, in the
first transport of joy and praise and gratitude that comes with the
sense of answered prayer. My happiness is all from You. In all that has
happened I trace the workings of Your hand, and see how it has moved
all secondary causes, and ordered all things sweetly.
“Thou, O my God, hast made me joyful with great joy.”[57]
“Blessed be the Lord God this day.”[58]
“We bless Thee, O Lord God, because it hath not happened as we
suspected. For Thou hast shewn Thy mercy to us, and Thou hast taken
pity.”[59]
“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and let all that is within me bless His
holy name. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and never forget all He hath done
for thee.... Who satisfieth thy desire with good things.... The Lord is
compassionate and merciful.... He hath not dealt with us according to
our sins.... The mercy of the Lord is from eternity and unto eternity
upon them that fear Him.”[60]
“Give glory to the Lord, for He is good: for His mercy endureth for
ever. Let them say so that have been redeemed by the Lord, whom He hath
redeemed from the hand of the enemy.... They cried to the Lord in their
tribulation, and He delivered them out of their distresses.... Let the
mercies of the Lord give glory to Him and His wonderful works to the
children of men. For He hath satisfied the empty soul, and hath filled
the hungry soul with good things.”[61]
“Praise ye the Lord, for the Lord is good; sing ye to His name, for it
is sweet.”[62]
“Who healeth the broken of heart, and bindeth up their bruises.”[63]
“The Lord hath granted me my petition which I asked of Him.”[64]
“Blessed be God, Who hath not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from
me.”[65]
“O Lord our God, all this store ... is from Thy hand.”[66]
“O Lord, there is none like Thee.”[67]
* * * * *