the approach of death. He has learned to know and to trust the good Master
whom he serves. Like the Apostle, he is only concerned that Christ should
be glorified in him at all times and in all things, “whether it be by life
or by death;” for to him also, “to live is Christ, and to die is
gain.”(80) He lives in the world, but is not of it; he treads the ways of
earth, but he really belongs to the kingdom above. Hence his cup of
interior peace is ever running over. Though surrounded by many evils, he
does not faint; though tempted exceedingly, he does not yield; but is
joyous and peaceful withal; because at all times and in all things he
feels himself to be the faithful servant of God, “in much patience, in
tribulation, in necessities, in distresses, in strifes, in prisons, in
seditions, in labors, in watchings, in fastings, in chastity, in
knowledge, in long-suffering, in sweetness, in the Holy Ghost, in charity
unfeigned; ... as dying, and yet living; as chastised, and not killed; as
sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as needy, yet enriching many; as having
nothing, yet possessing all things.”(81)
“Precious in the sight of God is the death of His Saints.” As they have
lived for Christ, they gladly welcome the summons that calls them home to
rest. Calmly and fearlessly they go down to death; joyously and with
feelings of exultation they hail the coming of Him on whom their thoughts
have rested throughout life, of Him whom they have ever seen by faith,
whom they have loved, whom they have trusted, whom they have chosen for
their own. Confident of the power and goodness of their faithful Shepherd,
pain daunts them not, the enemy frets them not. The last hour for them is
not one of darkness, but of light; it is not a time for lamentations, but
for joyous and gladsome strains. The end may be sudden, or it may be
gradual in its approach; it may come early, or late in life; it may be at
home or abroad; it may be in the winter, or it may be in summer; on the
sea or on the land; but to the just and spiritual it can never be a
surprise, it can never be lonely, never sad. It is the time for which they
have always longed—a time of liberation, of emancipation from the trammels
of earth and flesh, the end of continuous dying and the beginning of
lasting life. What a supreme moment, what a joyous event is death for a
just and holy soul! What sweet emotions must thrill the spirit, as the
Saviour stoops over the bed of death to wipe away forever the last of
earthly tears! Mary is there to hush the voice of reproach and to whisper
words of peace; Jesus has come to claim the soul and take it to Himself,
and flights of angels are waiting to sing it to its rest.
XI. SURELY GOODNESS AND MERCY SHALL FOLLOW ME ALL THE DAYS OF MY LIFE; AND
I SHALL DWELL IN THE HOUSE OF THE LORD UNTO LENGTH OF DAYS.
If the tender lambs and timid sheep of the shepherd’s flock could speak
the sentiments of their innocent hearts, each one would certainly voice
the words which here the Psalmist has uttered for them all. Throughout the
live-long day, throughout all the days of their lives, they experience the
shepherd’s goodness, they are the objects of his constant mercy. He has
been caring for them since their birth; he has led them out each morning,
since first they were able to walk; he has provided them with food, and
led them to water; and he has ever been present to shield them from harm,
and to protect them from their enemies. After such repeated experiences
and trials of his loving-kindness, they have grown accustomed to his
faithfulness and are filled with love of his goodness and mercy. And while
they have not the power of speech, and cannot by words express their
feelings, they do by the louder voice of action—by their quiet trust in
his care, by their habitual mildness and gentleness and quick response to
his every word, by the absence of solicitude and fear in view of his
presence—by these and all the other actions that speak their simple hearts
they show their love for their shepherd. Though often wounded and bleeding
and exhausted from the roughness and length of their journeys, they have
no distrust about the future, no fear for the morrow. In the midst of
distress the shepherd, they know, will provide. The Psalmist, therefore,
in the closing words of the shepherd song, gives utterance to the feelings
of the sheep when he sings: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all
the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord unto
length of days.”
But here, as in the opening verse of the Shepherd Psalm, the words of the
sacred Singer, although truly expressive of the sentiments of the sheep,
are more directly the expression of his own inner feelings, and of the
feelings of all faithful souls towards the Lord who rules and guides them.
All those whose lives have been really and sincerely led by faith, have,
like the shepherd’s flock, grown trustfully accustomed, in the course of
years, to the goodness and mercy, to the faithfulness and love of the hand
that provides for them. As they look into their lives, and retrace the
steps they have taken, they cannot fail to see how God has been always
with them, patiently enduring their faults, mercifully binding up their
wounds and hurts, and lovingly leading, drawing them to Himself. They can
see their advancement, slow perhaps as it has been; and they know it is
God who has given the increase. Looking now at their lives through the
perspective of the years that are gone, how many problems they are able to
solve! for how many apparent mysteries they have found an explanation! All
those crosses and trials, all those struggles and battles with the enemy,
all those attacks from within and assaults from without, all, in fact,
that they have ever endured, their sins alone excepted, they now can
trace, through the light of faith, back to the hand of their Father in
Heaven. Not everything, forsooth, has yet been explained, but enough,
indeed, is sufficiently clear to remove every doubt from the faithful soul
as to the goodness and Providence of God. And hence she exclaims with the
Psalmist, out of the abundance of her faith and confidence, “Surely
goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I shall
dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
It is doubtless a lack of implicit trust in God and divine Providence
which, more than anything else, accounts for the unhappiness and spiritual
barrenness of so many Christian and religious lives. Poor and scanty is
the fruit they yield, simply because they have no depth of soil, they are
not deeply and firmly rooted in faith and confidence in God. Like reeds
shaken by the wind, like houses built on the sand, they tremble and shake
with every blast, they are all but overturned by every tempest that rises.
Nor is it wonderful that this should be so. The higher gifts of the spirit
come from God, and hence the good fruit which the spirit yields is also
traceable back to Him. “We do not gather grapes from thorns nor figs from
thistles; and as a good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, so neither can
an evil tree bring forth good fruit.”(82) And just because the abundance
of the harvest of the spiritual life is dependent upon God as its giver,
is it strange that any distrust of Him and His Providence should be a
great hindrance to the soul’s advancement, and to the bestowal of the
constant help it needs? Can God be pleased with those who do not confide
in Him, and who do not trust Him? Our Lord’s own chiding words to His
disciples are a proof of His displeasure at any distrust in His power and
goodness. How often did He rebuke them for their want of confidence in
Him! How often did He accuse them reproachfully of their “little
faith,”(83) of being “slow of heart,”(84) of being an “unbelieving and
perverse generation!”(85) He was constantly pointing to their lack of
faith, reminding them that it was the source of their weakness, the cause
of their ignorance in things spiritual, the reason of their powerlessness
in the face of difficulties and against the enemies of their souls. It is
clear that Almighty God, being a generous and loving Father, must be
offended at those of His children who do not trust Him; and their want of
faith in Him is consequently the reason for His denying to them the help
which is the life of their souls, and without which they are powerless to
be useful servants in His vineyard.
And this failure to confide in the goodness of God betrays itself in other
ways. Besides sealing up the fountains of special graces and closing the
door on divine generosity, besides a general unfruitfulness in the
spiritual life, and the lack of all greater works for God and for souls,
which are its immediate consequences, it also penetrates into the interior
sanctuary of the spirit, and weakens at their source the springs of
spiritual action. The results are manifest. Not only is there no yielding
of fruit, but growth is likewise wanting. And if, under fairer conditions,
there has ever been any progress, it is soon perceived to wither and wane
in a soul devoid of living faith. All the exercises and practices of the
Christian life participate in the baneful effects. Prayer and the use of
the sacraments are either seriously neglected or gradually given up, and
the blighting influences of irreligion rapidly spread and overrun all the
departments of life. The view one takes of God, the faith or lack of faith
and trust one has in Providence, have their effect on the character and
give a direction to all one’s ways of thinking, feeling, acting, in regard
to the world we live in, in regard to mankind in general, in regard to the
causes, purposes, and destinies of all things.
Our conceptions of Providence are vital, therefore. They really determine
what our life is to be, and they are an index to the life that is
finished. It is impossible that we should be quite the same whether we try
to eliminate God from our lives, or allow His blessed influence to cheer
and lead us on; whether we look upon Him as a cold Master, waiting to
exact and to punish, or as a kind Father and Shepherd, seeking to spare
and to save; whether we regard Him as hid far in the heavens, caring
naught for the creatures and the world He has made, or whether we conceive
Him as intimately bound up with all the works of His hands, although
distinct from them, as guiding and regulating everything, as tenderly
loving and providing for all the needs of our souls.
Another most harmful result of deficient faith and confidence in God is
that it leads us to trust in creatures. It causes us to reverse the proper
order of things. We are dependent beings, and we instinctively feel our
deficiencies and the need of some one, or something on which to lean, at
times, and to which we can look for assistance. We may not be entirely and
always conscious of this tendency in us, we may be too proud or too blind
to admit it, or we may wish we could overcome it and rid our lives of so
constant a need; but whether we see it and acknowledge it or not, whether
we encourage it or try to repress it, the need is always there, deeply
engraved in our nature as creatures, and we cannot but seek to satisfy it.
There is none of us, frail beings that we are, who is entirely sufficient
unto himself. Sometimes, of course, the voice of our needs is silent, and
we feel that we shall never want; “I said in my abundance,” observes the
Psalmist, “I shall not be moved forever;”(86) but when the tide begins to
ebb and prosperity subsides, how soon do we remember that we are dust! How
frequently in times of trouble, in times of illness and poverty and
suffering, when face to face with our foes, or when death steps in and
slaughters, are we made aware of our insufficiency, and of our utter
helplessness to live our lives alone and meet single-handed the burdens
and misfortunes of earth! It takes but a little frost to nip the root of
all our greatness, and then when our high-blown pride breaks under us we
quickly realize how fragile and insecure are the personal foundations of
our lives. Naturally and reasonably, therefore, did the pagan philosophers
conclude that friendship and friends were necessary to man.
Profoundly aware of this fundamental need of help and support which is a
result of our nature, we habitually stretch out our hands to others, not
only during the years of infancy and childhood, but to a greater or less
extent throughout the whole period of our earthly existence. At first, of
course, it is to creatures that we necessarily look—to parents, relatives,
guardians, teachers, and later on, to friends and acquaintances. Our needs
in the beginning and in early years, though many and imperative, are
comparatively simple; they can be satisfied by those around us. But as we
advance to maturity and take in more completely the meaning of our lives,
and consider not so much the needs of the body as the demands of the soul,
we find that the multiple requirements of infancy and youth, which were
able to be supplied by those that were near, have given way to the fewer,
but vast and unlimited, claims of age, which express the wants of the
spirit. It is when we appeal to creatures for the complete and permanent
satisfaction of these latter necessities of our being, that we seriously
err, and open the way to disappointment and sorrow. Not that we are to
have no cherished and chosen friends, or that we should despise the needs
and gifts, the privileges and blessings of friendship, which in truth our
nature requires; nor again that we are to regard with skeptical,
disdainful eyes the world and human nature; but we must not deceive
ourselves by trying to find in any created being that which it does not
possess. We must not endeavor to get from any creature that perfect
satisfaction which we need, and which the Creator alone can give. Neither
must we seek to fill the unlimited capacity of our souls with those gifts
only, poor and defective at best, which frail mortals like ourselves are
able to supply. It is folly in the highest degree to expect from anyone
less than God that which only God can afford.
The mistake, therefore, is made when creatures of any kind are allowed to
take the place of God; when they are sought and reposed in as an end in
themselves, and as sufficient satisfaction for the needs of the human
spirit. Unwise, indeed, is this mode of action, and bitter are the sorrows
of soul to which it inevitably leads! One man trusts in riches, another in
glory, another in the esteem of men; one leans upon his friends and
companions, another upon his relatives—all forgetful of the frail and
unsubstantial nature of every earthly prop. Frequently they never awaken
to the peril of their state until they find themselves face to face with
their doom and the awful disillusionment. The crash may be delayed, but
the day must come sooner or later for all of us, who have advanced but a
little beyond maturity, when all the natural lights of life go out, when
every human prop is removed, and we find ourselves out alone and in the
dark, so far as depends on the world and creatures. How miserable then
shall we be if we have put our trust in men! if we have tried to make
creatures play the part in our lives which only God can play! When we need
them most they fail us, when we fain would find beneath their protection a
shield against the fiery darts of life, behold they wither like the ivy of
Jonas and leave us alone in our want!(87) How vain, therefore, and
groundless is that confidence which is put in men, and how wretched that
poor man that hangs on princes’ favors! “Thou trustest in money,” says St.
Augustine, “thou holdest to vanity; thou trustest in honor, and in some
eminence of human power, thou holdest to vanity; thou trustest in some
principal friend, thou holdest to vanity. When thou trustest in all these
things, either thou diest and leavest them here, or in thy lifetime they
all perish, and thou failest in thy trust.”(88)
It is no despisal, then, of the needs and helps of earthly friends and of
our fellow-creatures to say that we should not put entire trust in them
for all the wants and demands of our being. They are good, they were made
by God, they are oftentimes able to assist us—nay, we need them to a
certain extent; but they are utterly unable to satisfy us completely, they
cannot if they would, simply because of the extent of our wants. And even
if creatures could give us a partial contentment, as at times they seem to
do, we know that it cannot last, and in the midst of our joy and pleasure
we are haunted by the thought that some day, soon at latest, it all must
pass away. We are seeking for rest, for peace, for happiness, and that
unending; we want something to steady our lives and satisfy the yearnings
of our souls forever: but we must not look for these things in the world,
for the world at best is passing away. There is no stability to human
things; the cloud and the storm swiftly follow the sunshine; we have not
here below a lasting habitation. Today we are sitting at the banquet of
pleasure, tomorrow we are draining the cup of sorrow; today we receive the
applause of men, tomorrow we may be the objects of their scorn; today we
put forth the tender leaves of hope, tomorrow there comes a killing frost
that ruins all our prospects.
Such, then, is the lot of man when considered in his relations to
creatures and to the world. It is a lot full of uncertainty, of
instability, of vicissitude; but this should not make us skeptical or
cynical; it affords no justification for pessimism. It is a condition
arising, on the one hand, from the very nature of limited beings, and on
the other, from the vast potentialities of our souls, which, while they
are limited in giving to others, cannot be appeased except by the God who
made them. There is a craving in the heart of man for something which the
world cannot give. He clutches for the things that are passing, he toils,
he labors, he struggles; he strives for money, for power, for place, for
honor, not that any of these things are in themselves what he desires, but
only because he conceives them as means and helps to the satisfaction, to
the stillness of mind, and peace of heart, and rest of soul and body for
which his nature longs. Peace and happiness and contentment of life are
the objects of all our dreams, of our persistent efforts, of our ambitions
and aims; but until we give up the hope of finding these things in the
world, in our fellow-mortals, in anything short of God, we shall never
know the blessedness for which we yearn. If we would ever attain to the
state which we covet, we must learn the lesson, even though it be through
tears and sorrow, that God alone, who made our souls with all their vast
desires, is able to comfort us and steady our lives amid the storms and
distresses of earth.
It is futile to trust in men, or “in the children of men, in whom there is
no salvation.”(89) The peace and blessedness which we seek are “not as the
world giveth;”(90) and unless we turn away from the world and cease to
torture our lives with its vanities, our portion can never be other than
heartaches, secret loathing, consuming thirst. “For many friends cannot
profit,” says Thomas a’Kempis, “nor strong helpers assist, nor prudent
counsellors give a profitable answer, nor the books of the learned afford
comfort, nor any precious substance deliver, nor any place, however
retired and lovely, give shelter, unless thou thyself dost assist, help,
strengthen, console, instruct, and guard us.”(91) Such has been the
history of the race, and such is the experience of every individual in the
race that has placed his hope and trust in anything created.
We are confronted, therefore, on the one side by the inherent weakness of
our own nature and the constant needs that arise therefrom; and on the
other side, we are assured by the history of the race, if not by our own
experience, that so long as we strive to satisfy our wants by an appeal to
anything but God we are doomed to disappointment and sorrow. It is
unfortunate that most people must first be crushed by the world and
creatures which they serve before they grasp the fundamental truth that
creatures are not their God. Comparatively few of those who enjoy the
world are ever brought to realize the dignity and divine purpose of their
souls until the world and its allurements, like a false pageant on a false
stage, give way beneath them, and they fall helpless and alone. It is
commonly only after repeated awful experiences, when worn out and
exhausted by years of fruitless quest for peace and happiness and
contentment, that men wake up to the simple fact that the treasures which
they seek are not in the world, nor as the world giveth.
But it is one thing to turn away from the world disappointed, disgusted
and betrayed; and it is quite another thing to turn to God and to
recognize Him as our good Father and Shepherd, patiently waiting to
receive us, ever able and ready to satisfy our wants. There are many
people who find the world a disappointment and a deception, and who turn
from it with loathing and hate, but who fail ever to lift their weary eyes
to the proper object of their trust. Like the Israelites of old, they
succeed at length in escaping from the hands of oppression and tyranny,
but only to wander in a desert land throughout the length of their days.
This is the region where dwell the pessimist, the skeptic and the
cynic—miserable mortals that have wasted on creatures the talents they
should have given to their Creator, or that have otherwise failed in their
conception of life, and have left unmultiplied the money of the
Master.(92) There is plainly no middle course for us, if we would not
encounter disaster; we are not negative as to the necessities of our
nature; it is not enough for us to turn from positive harm, from the
objects that deceive and disappoint us; we must further turn to positive
good, and to Him who alone can quiet and appease our yearning spirits.
One of the most evident and convincing reasons, then, why we should put
our trust in God above all else is that He alone can satisfy and give us
rest. Only God is able adequately to respond to all the needs of our
being. The simplest process of reasoning should assure us of this, when
once we perceive the vastness of our wants and the impossibility of their
satisfaction through the medium of created things. We know our nature,
which has come from the source and essence of truth, cannot be false.
Neither can our unlimited capacities for knowledge, for joy, for happiness
be a deceiving mockery. There is a way to peace for us, and a source of
supreme contentment; there is a fountain of living waters from which, if
we drink, we shall never thirst again. Hence our Saviour said: “Come to me
all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you;”(93) and
again, “he that shall drink of the water that I will give him shall not
thirst forever: but the water that I will give him shall become in him a
fountain of water, springing up into life everlasting.”(94)
But we shall never be able to come to God, we shall never succeed even in
getting near the secret of interior peace and contentment until we are
able to grasp more or less comprehensively the great basic truths of our
existence: that God loves each one of us with the love of an infinite
Father, and that His Providence is so universal and omnipotent as to
extend to all things, even to the numbering of the hairs of our head. We
talk much about chance and fortune and accident, we speak every day of
things happening, as if by the sheerest contingence, without warning or
previous knowledge; and so it is with reference to ourselves, and to all
the world perhaps: but with reference to divine Providence it is not so;
there is nothing accidental, nothing unforeseen with respect to God.
“Without Thy counsel and Providence, and without cause, nothing cometh to
pass in the earth,”(95) says the Imitation. But what does this mean, “God
provides?” It means that the will of the omnipotent Father directs and
governs everything. “Providence,” says St. John Damscene, “is the will of
God, by which all things are fitly and harmoniously governed,”(96) and
such is its power that nothing can elude or deceive it, neither can it be
hindered or baffled in any way. “For God will not except any man’s person,
neither will He stand in awe of any man’s greatness; for He made the
little and the great, and He hath equally care of all.”(97)