Tact and Kindliness.
We should assume that our Hearers are what we wish them to be.
Reproaches to be avoided.
How to address Unbelievers.
Special Precautions to be taken in small Towns and rural Districts.
How to treat Men during times of public Commotion.
Forbearance due to the Church for being obliged to receive Money
from the Faithful.
In France, it is not enough to say good things, they must also be
well said. This remark applies to all, but more especially to him
who speaks in behalf of the Gospel; for he is bound to follow the
Divine injunction:--"Be ye wise as serpents, and harmless as
doves;" which I should prefer to see carried out as commented
upon by St. François de Sales:--"Ah! my dear Philothea, I would
give a hundred serpents for one dove."
It is especially in this respect that we should endeavor to
reduce to practice what has already been advanced on the
importance of becoming thoroughly acquainted with the people, and
the necessity of loving them in order to our being qualified to
address them to good purpose.
{198}
We must make ourselves Sisters of Charity to the souls of men;
having all their pliancy and kindness, so as to be capable of
conforming ourselves to those light, weak, vain, and fickle
characters--to say nothing of the suspicious and malevolent--with
whom we may have to deal. Our age is arrayed in prejudices from
head to foot, and no sooner is one destroyed than another is
ready to take its place.
For the most part, a great mistake is made as regards this
necessity of exercising tact in our intercourse with the people.
It is remarked:--"We have to do with little people, such
circumspection is therefore uncalled for. Why should we give
ourselves so much trouble on their account?" Very true; but
little people are often very susceptible people everywhere; not
among the laity only, but among the clergy likewise.
The people have certain formalities, courtesies, and politenesses
of their own which we should learn to respect, for when once
outraged, they are more difficult to be appeased than the
educated and genteel classes. Complaints are often made of our
congregations; but have they not sometimes cause on their part to
complain of their preachers? ... Are these latter always prudent
and conciliatory in their mode of procedure? And yet success
depends on this mixture of tact and kindliness.
{199}
In our sermons, we should start with assuming that the people are
what we wish them to be; thereby raising them in their own
estimation, and laying hold of them by their better part. ... You
will then feel yourself quite at ease, and in spite of any desire
on the part of your hearers to oppose you, they will be
restrained from doing so by an exquisite sentiment of respect.
A _religieux_ who was engaged on a mission in a rural district,
had announced that a particular gallery, which had previously
been occupied by the men, would in future be reserved for the
ladies forming the choir. Now, the men were much attached to the
said gallery, and were determined to keep it. Accordingly, the
day after, long before the sermon, they installed themselves in
it as usual.
On ascending the pulpit, the preacher noticed that his directions
had not been attended to. What would he do? Command or scold? A
vulgar man might have done so under the circumstances, but he got
over the difficulty by a compliment.
Turning toward the occupants of the gallery, he addressed them in
a kindly tone as follows:--"My dear friends, you are aware that
the gallery was set apart for the ladies. Now, French politeness
calls upon us always to give place to the ladies, and not to
deprive them of it. From what I already know of you, I feel
persuaded that you will not be behindhand in that respect." ...
"We have put our foot into it," whispered the men one to another;
"and can hold out no longer.
{200}
Ah! the crafty fellow, he has outwitted us, and we must go." The
gallery was evacuated forthwith and made over to the ladies; to
the satisfaction of all, even of those who had been worsted in
the affair. That is the way to deal with the people. The preacher
might have asserted his absolute authority on the occasion; but,
like a wise man, he preferred the exercise of prudence and
charity.
We repeat it: the most effectual way of communicating the truth
to the people, of putting them in the right way, and of reforming
them, is not to be chary of complimenting them when they have
deserved it ever so little; and to show that we have confidence
in them. This course tends to gladden their souls; disposes them
to what is good, exalts, elates them. It should never be
neglected, for it is capable of transforming the most obstinate
characters.
Subsequent to the revolution of 1848, an association of
unemployed operatives was formed at the church of the Carmelites;
amongst whom was a number of sharpers, makers of barricades, and
workmen always on the look-out for work--men clothed in rags and
in a state of complete destitution. There were about twelve
hundred of them. A meal was first served out to them, which was
followed by a lecture.
{201}
The priests who addressed them soon acquired an irresistible
ascendency over this formidable body; so much so that certain
parties took umbrage at it, as a dangerous power to be wielded by
the clergy, and accordingly hired a set of roughs to hiss and
otherwise disturb the congregation.
The preacher, who was apprised of this on entering the pulpit,
did not manifest the least discomposure. Before beginning the
sermon, however, he looked round upon the sinister figures and
tattered habiliments of his hearers with a benevolent
countenance, and then said in a sonorous voice:--"What a pleasant
meeting this is, my friends! What an excellent audience! what
silence! what attention! Therein I recognize the people. ... Père
Lacordaire preaches at Notre-Dame to the noble and wealthy, and
it is found necessary to station constables there to maintain
order. ... None but men of the people are here, and yet we have
no constables amongst us. We do not want them, for the people are
their own police; the people are discreet." ...
He then delivered his sermon, which was listened to amidst the
most profound silence. Never was an audience of nuns more
attentive than those men; their deportment was admirable. The
roughs took the hint, saw that their game was up, and that those
who had engaged them would lose their money. They accordingly
moved toward the door.
{202}
When the sermon was over, however, a few hisses were attempted;
but fifty stalwart arms instantly seized the intruders, and
administered a castigation to them which was by no means
fraternal.
By laying hold of men in this manner we may lead them onward a
great way on the road to improvement. ...
One should be very cautious not to assume that his hearers are
wicked, impious, or unbelieving. The people do not relish such
imputations: they don't like reproaches; neither do you, dear
reader. They rarely do any good, and often much harm.
If it is deemed desirable to censure a fault, a vice, or a
scandal, such delinquencies may be treated of in a general way,
and energetically denounced. In applying the lesson to your
hearers, you might say in a subdued tone--"Malpractices like
these are committed elsewhere. It is even stated that you are not
wholly free from them; but perhaps it is only the malevolent who
say this of you. However, if you have really been guilty of them,
I am sure you will abandon them in future. It is always a duty to
prove that the malevolent are in the wrong." You may further
add:--"I will do you this justice, that whenever I have given you
any advice, I have always had the satisfaction of finding that
some at least have profited by it."
{203}
It shows a want of charity as well as tact--and it is, moreover,
deplorably vulgar--to address a congregation in such a style as
the following:--"All my preaching, and all the trouble which I
take in your behalf are in vain, for you are not a whit better.
Faith is departing from France. ... I must abandon you to your
fate. No matter how I preach, none the more come to the sermons."
... I say this mode of address is as vulgar and contemptible as
it is derogatory to the minister of the Gospel. Saint John
Chrysostom, as already remarked, did not talk in that style:--"If
you reject my words," said he, "I shall not shake off the dust of
my feet against you. Not that herein I would disobey the Saviour;
but because the love which He has given me for you prevents my
doing so." ...
If sermons are not attended, whose fault is it? It is our duty to
look into that question. At all events, if only a few come it is
not certainly their fault, and therefore they should be spared
all reproaches; otherwise some captious hearer--and such are to
be met with everywhere--may slip into a corner of the pulpit, and
say:--"Take care, Mr. Preacher; you are speaking ill of the
absent, and you know better than I do that such a proceeding is
improper." ...
{204}
If your audience is scanty, I can quite fancy that you would like
to comment upon it, and also to express a little annoyance at the
fact; but you may do something better. Begin by congratulating
those who are present, thank them heartily for coming to listen
to you, and tell them afterward, in an affectionate manner, that
it would be a praiseworthy act if they could induce one or two of
their comrades to accompany them to the next meeting. Instead of
uttering reproaches against the erring absentees, which your
hearers might report to them, charge the latter to communicate
words of kindness to them:--
"Tell those dear brethren who do not attend the lectures, that we
bear them no ill-will; that we love all of them; that they too
are our children; and that we never cease praying for them."
Thereby all will be edified, and God will be less offended. ...
Further, it is highly imprudent to say to one's audience:--"I
have preached to you a long time, and yet you are still the same:
I see no improvement in you. On the contrary, evil increases
every year. I wash my hands of you; you will be lost: you will be
damned." ... Now, the people do not like to be damned, or to be
discouraged. Besides, such a course is highly dangerous. ...
Might they not say:--"As it seems that we are damned already, let
us at least enjoy life while it lasts." Moreover, may there not
still be a portion for the pastor, even from among the erring
flock?
A pastor once recapitulated in the pulpit the results of his
ministrations in this language:--"My time is thrown away upon
you, for you become more and more ungodly.
{205}
"The first year of my cure there were only five persons who did
not communicate at Easter.
"The second year there were eleven.
"The third year there were thirty.
"And the number has gone on increasing, so that at present there
are eighty non-communicants." After Mass, a mischievous peasant
approached the speaker, and said, in a low voice:--"Monsieur le
Curé, take my advice, and don't make so much stir about this
matter. According to your own testimony, we were in a
satisfactory condition when you took charge of us, so that we
must have deteriorated under your _reign_."
Neither should such commonplace and infelicitous remarks as the
following be made:--"Faith is departing from among men. ... Hell
is let loose on earth; ... everybody is abandoning religion;" ...
for observations like these only tend to induce others to abandon
it; and the people will hardly feel disposed to practise a
religion which the rest of the world is alleged to be giving up.
They would rather prefer being lost with the multitude.
On the contrary, you should say something to this effect,--"Go
to! faith is not extinct, for there are many godly men to be
found in all ranks of society.
{206}
You would be convinced of this if you only knew what takes place
in our large towns, where numbers of the young, the rich, and the
learned belonging to the higher classes, and others occupying
distinguished positions, may be seen devoutly frequenting the
services of the church, partaking of the holy communion, visiting
the poor, and practising confession with the docility of little
children. Moreover, what exemplary women there are amongst us!"
... You might then add:--"Brethren, we should strive to imitate
such men, and should not allow ourselves to be outdone by them."
Representations like these will induce the people to think more
highly of religion, and will make it more attractive to them.
We have already discussed the most appropriate method of warning
the people against the bad example and pernicious talk of those
who affect infidelity; but a few additional remarks may not be
out of place here. In general, we should not evince any fear of
such antagonism, nor attach much importance to it. We should
rather cause the impression to be produced that God having
bestowed mind and talent upon mankind, is a proof that He can be
in no dread of those endowments.
Above all, we should lay great stress on such reflections as
these:--that those who call themselves unbelievers are, in fact,
nothing of the kind, and are better than their words would imply;
although, perchance, they might not be greatly disappointed if
they could attain to infidelity; that they have as good reason
for fearing hell as others have of being in dread of the police;
and that by dint of repeating that they are unbelievers, they
have been led to imagine that they are so in reality.
{207}
You might liken them to some of those old soldiers of the empire,
who, from having travelled a good deal in foreign countries, are
generally allowed the license of embellishing and even of
inventing a little. As everybody knows, they make free use of the
privilege, and concoct a number of tales wherein they themselves
are made to play a prominent part. These they repeat incessantly,
until at length they succeed in persuading themselves that such
stories are true, and that the incidents actually occurred as
they have narrated them. ... It is the same with those who wish
to pass themselves off as unbelievers. Hence we should not allow
ourselves to be moved by their words; for at heart they are
better men and nearer to God than is thought, and you should
insist on the duty of praying for them. If you pursue this
course, none will be hurt or offended, and the wives, daughters,
or mothers of these pretended unbelievers will return home from
your sermons happier at the thought that all hope for those whom
they love is not wholly lost.
{208}
The sterner the truths which you have to set forth, the more
should tact and kindliness be brought into play, that the souls
of the hearers be not depressed. This, however, is a very common
error. We are terrible in the pulpit; we thunder and storm there;
whereas in the confessional we are gentle and paternal. That was
all well enough in times of faith; but an entirely different
course is called for nowadays, otherwise you will estrange the
hearts of your people. Be paternal in the pulpit, be paternal in
the confessional as well; but at the same time uncompromising in
your principles. There are many things which terrify at a
distance, but which, nevertheless, are readily assented to in the
familiar intercourse of the confessional.
We sometimes hear such language as this, uttered in a tone of
great self-conceit, after a long tirade or vehement
declamation:--"I have driven them into a corner. I have now
fairly crushed them." You have crushed them, have you? So much
the worse, for in so doing you have altogether misapprehended
your duty. God has not called you to crush men, but to raise and
save them. Moreover, there is much cause to fear that those whom
you have crushed will not run the less eagerly in the way of
evil.
Hence all strong admonitions should be tempered with such
deprecations as these:--"Brethren, why am I constrained to tell
you these stern truths? You will pardon me for doing so, because
it is my duty. It pains me as much as it does you to have to say
them."
{209}
Or, something to this effect:--"If I wished to pain you, or if it
was not rather my heart's desire to spare you, or if I did not
love you, I might inflict on you the chastisement of irony and
defeat; I might say this or that, and speak truly and justly. But
no; I leave you to your own consciences, which will tell you of
your faults and failings more forcibly than I can. For my part, I
prefer holding out a hand to you, I prefer to pity, to save you."
...
We must become the servants of all. ... That was the course
pursued by Saint John Chrysostom. "A man," says he, "who is only
bound to serve one master, and to submit to one opinion only, may
discharge his duty without trouble; but I have an infinity of
masters, being called to serve an immense people who hold many
different views. Not that I bear this servitude with any sort of
impatience, nor that by the present discourse I would defend
myself against the authority which you exercise over me in the
capacity of masters. God forbid that I should entertain such a
thought! On the contrary, nothing is so glorious to me as this
servitude of love."
The same feelings ought to pervade the heart of every Christian
priest, who should be able to say as St. Paul did to the
Corinthians:--"Out of much affliction and anguish of heart, I
wrote unto you with many tears; not that ye should be grieved,
but that ye might know the love which I have more abundantly unto
you."
{210}
You become aware, for instance, of a prevailing disposition to
ill-will, and have cause to apprehend the ridicule of certain
parties. Under these circumstances, throw yourself into the hands
of your audience; make them your judge, and rest assured you will
be treated with indulgence. As Saint Augustine has said:--"If you
fear God, cast yourself into His arms, and then His hands cannot
strike you." In like manner, if you fear the wit and ridicule of
the French people, throw yourself into their hearts, and then the
sallies of their tongues will fail to reach you.
There are certain thoughts and expressions which have a great
hold on the French mind, such as progress, liberty,
enlightenment. These you should never meddle with unless
absolutely obliged. We ought to respect even the illusions of our
brethren, when they do nobody any harm. When we are forced to
combat them, it should be done with courtesy, with gentle irony,
or with profound ability. We, too, may speak of enlightenment, of
progress, and of liberty, and point out that they can only be
effectually attained through the instrumentality of religion. ...
Matters have undoubtedly improved on this score; proving that, if
we correct our own errors, the effect will not be lost upon
others. We are now far removed from the time when nothing but the
future was talked of, the philosophy of the future, the happiness
of the future, when it used to be said that the time was big with
the future, big with a new philosophy; nay, even with a new
religion; whereas, in truth, it was big with nothing but misery,
as the event fully proved. ...
{211}
We must not assail these delusions directly, nor imitate the bold
preacher who is reported to have said--"So we are supposed to be
living in the era of light! If so, then it is the devil who holds
the candle." On the contrary, you should enter into the current
of the ideas of the age, and strive vigorously to turn it in
favor of religion, by taking advantage of prevailing errors and
delusions to edify your hearers.
One of the lectures of the Rev. Père Ventura supplies a fine
model of this style of preaching; which but for the sacredness of
the place where it was delivered, would undoubtedly have elicited
roars of applause. He had been showing that the attempt to
introduce German philosophy into France was a great mistake,
inasmuch as it was altogether unsuited to the positive, sensible,
and Christian mind of the French people. He wound up as
follows:--"Frenchmen, it is your bane that you do not value
yourselves as you ought, that you wish to imitate foreigners;
whereas you are rich enough in resources of your own. Last
century you imitated English politics and were not very
successful. Why do you now wish to borrow a philosophy from
Protestant Germany? Frenchmen, be yourselves. ...
{212}
What! are you not rich enough in mind, in your wonderful talent
for comparison and for development, and in your extreme quickness
at deducing consequences from the most remote premises? Not rich
enough in the truth which eighteen centuries of Christianity have
poured into your bosoms, and to which you owe your civilization
and grandeur. Frenchmen, forbear aping others; you have only to
be yourselves in order to be great." (Prolonged sensation.)
We should become all things to all men, without ever being rude;
being always simple, natural, true, and upright. These are
qualities admired alike by all; by the little, and especially by
the great. ...
The wealthy residents in towns frequently go to spend a part of
the fine season in the country, where the curé, in order to exalt
religion in their eyes--and the pastor a little as well--thinks
himself called upon to be at the expense of some grand phrases
and flights of fancy. Now, such a course is neither adroit nor
apostolic. As to grand phrases, the visitors hear enough of them
in the towns. Besides, they may judge that you have talked at
them, and may be offended. Moreover, it is not at all unlikely
that they may think you have mistaken your profession. ...
Instead of acting in this way, do not seem to be aware of their
presence, but speak boldly to your people in your usual style.
{213}
Avail yourself, nevertheless, of any fitting occasion to tell
them some useful truths; to draw their attention to some striking
parable, like that of the poor man with the ewe lamb and the
prophet Nathan, which may afford you a good opportunity of
reaching the rich over the shoulders of the peasant. Be careful,
however, always to do this in a kindly manner; both rich and poor
will then be more satisfied with you, and God Himself will concur
in the same opinion.
Remember that you have a difficult part to play in a small town.
There, you may not say all that may be said in a large city.
There, the most paltry things assume huge proportions. One of our
best preachers entirely failed of success through having omitted
to repeat the _Ave Maria_ after the exordium, and for not having
allowed his audience time to cough, to expectorate, and to take
breath. It is a wonder that he escaped without having his
orthodoxy suspected.
Moreover, the residents in small towns are excessively fond of
finely-turned phrases, rhetorical displays, and pomposity. They
call such rodomontade poetry, and think it sublime. You may adopt
it occasionally by way of accompaniment. Nevertheless, don't be
led into the delusion that any essay in that style will prevent
the _sturdy bourgeois_ from slandering his neighbor, from
cheating him if he can, and from doing many other things of a
similar kind.
{214}
Good manners have great weight in France, and many things are
excused in him who says them cleverly.
A celebrated preacher was expected to preach a charity sermon in
one of the Paris churches. A crowded audience had already
assembled, when, to their surprise and disappointment, they saw
the parish priest enter the pulpit, and heard him announce that,
owing to the sudden indisposition of the eminent preacher, he was
obliged to supply his place. Thereat the congregation rose and
began to leave the church. Meanwhile the priest, seeing the
crowed on the move, and the anticipated collection disappearing
with them, suddenly arrested them with a _bon mot_. "My
brethren," said he, "when everybody has left the church, I will
begin." This so delighted the audience that they remained where
they were; the priest preached an excellent sermon, and the
collection was most liberal.
We should endeavor to acquire and practise all the breeding and
politeness of good society, with sincerity superadded. By birth,
we are for the most part children of the people; that is neither
a fault nor a disgrace; it forms an additional resemblance
between ourselves and the Apostles. But our primary education was
neglected, and we should fill up the gap by retaking from the
world those forms which it has borrowed from Christianity, and
fill them up with the substance. Then we shall be powerful men.
{215}
The present age has given us a great model of this tact,
kindliness, and urbanity of speech in the person of the Cardinal
de Cheverus.
"He generally spoke," says M. Hamon, [Footnote 18] "with such
tact and moderation, and so much to the purpose, that, far from
offending any one, his audience always went away gratified. Some
were convinced, others were staggered, and all disabused more or
less of their prejudices. When he addressed persons of a
different communion, his kind and affectionate words were the
utterances of a heart overflowing with benevolence and charity.
He made his audience feel by the accents of his voice and his
whole deportment that it was a friend who was addressing them;
not merely a sincere, but a tender and devoted friend, who wished
them all possible good; and this persuasion, by disposing them to
welcome his words, opened the way for him to their hearts.
[Footnote 18: _Histoire du Cardinal de Cheverus_.]
"His usual course was this: he first stated the question
clearly, expounding carefully the true doctrine of the Church;
eliminating therefrom all the erroneous interpretations,
wherewith heretics have travestied it in order that they might
decry it. He then adduced his proofs in a form so simple and
natural, combining them with reasons so completely within the
reach of ordinary intelligences, that no effort of the mind was
required to feel their force.
{216}
He adhered above all to those proofs which speak to the heart;
setting forth all that is lovely and affecting, noble and
excellent in the Catholic creed. It is almost unnecessary to
add that his efforts were often crowned with deserved success."
But the exercise of tact and kindliness on our part, is specially
called for in times of public commotion, when men's minds are
disturbed and their passions inflamed. Under such circumstances,
we should endeavor to be perfectly self-possessed ourselves, in
order that we may be the better able to control others.
Before all, we should be just. The people, on their part, have an
exquisite sense of justice. In depicting their faults or their
excesses, abstain from all exaggeration; rather say too little
than too much, and they will accuse themselves unsparingly.
Outstep the limits of truth, and they will rebel, and you will
forfeit all your influence over them. Further, take pains to
explain to them in detail how matters stand; show them that you
are not an enemy, but a sincere friend and adviser, and they will
resign themselves, even to suffering.
A great orator has left on record a perfect model of this style
of address. He is so little known that I cannot resist the desire
of quoting him. Some time prior to the Revolution of '89, the
dearness of bread had excited public indignation at Marseilles,
excesses had been committed, and still greater outrages were
apprehended.
{217}
Mirabeau caused a notice, containing the following passages, to
be put up on all the walls of the town:--
"My good friends, I am about to tell you what I think of the
occurrences which have taken place in this superb city during
the last few days. Listen to me: I shall not deceive you; my
only wish is to be of use to you.
"Every one of you desires what is right, for you are all honest
people; but every one does not know how he ought to act. A man
is often deceived, even with respect to his own interests.
"You complain chiefly of two things: of the price of bread and
the price of meat.
"Let us consider the subject of the bread first; other matters
will come after.
"Bread is the most indispensable article of food, and there are
two requisites regarding it: first, that there should be an
adequate supply; and, secondly, that it should not be too dear.
"Well, my good friends, I have some cheering news to tell you.
There is no deficiency of wheat at the present moment. There
are 50,000 loads in the city, which will furnish bread for
three months and twelve days. But, my good friends, that is not
all; your administrators and the merchants still expect a large
additional supply. ...
{218}
"Be calm, therefore; be perfectly calm. Thank Providence for
giving you what others are deprived of.
"You have heard it reported, and you yourselves know, that the
seasons generally have been bad throughout the country. The
people have to suffer elsewhere much more than you do here; yet
they bear it patiently.
"I trust, therefore, that you will be contented and quiet, and
that your example may promote peace on all sides. Then, my good
friends, it will be said everywhere: The Marseillaise are a
brave people. The King will hear it--that excellent King whom
we should not afflict, whom we unceasingly invoke--even he will
hear of it, and will esteem and love you the more."
As might have been expected, this address produced the happiest
results. The people do not, cannot resist such appeals, unless
some mischievous demagogue interferes to rekindle their passions.
Lastly, I must say a few words on a subject which should be
candidly explained to the people. I allude to the money taken for
the use of chairs in our churches, and the difference which
exists in the celebration of marriages and funerals for the rich
and the poor.
{219}
This is a matter which causes great estrangement from religion,
and he who is not aware of the fact shows his ignorance of the
feelings prevailing among the people. It is desirable that all
should be set right on this point, both rich and poor; even the
most pious amongst us. Faith is no longer large enough to
comprehend these exigencies, and there is a wide-spread suspicion
abroad that the Church is following the ruling passion of the
multitude--love of money. Besides, the people entertain strong
views on the subject of equality, and expect it in matters of
religion, if they do not meet with it anywhere else.
Hence it is not uncommon to hear reflections such as the
following among the operatives of our work shops:--"Religion
nowadays is no longer the religion of the Gospel. The Gospel
loves and prefers the people; but religion as practised at
present prefers the rich and encourages felons.
"Take, for example, two men of humble parentage. The one remains
a workman and maintains his integrity all his life; he toils on
and dies poor. The other becomes rich by very questionable means,
defrauds right and left, and dies wealthy. He is then placed in
the centre of the church, and surrounded with burning tapers and
chanting priests. ... The poor devil of a workman, on the
contrary, who has been upright all his life, is borne in the rear
of the parish priest, accompanied by two or three assistants,
with as many tapers, and is then pitched into a corner. . . . And
you would have me believe that this is the religion of Christ? It
is no such thing; it is the religion of the priests: it is the
religion of money." ....
{220}
Arguments like these have a powerful effect on persons who are
incapable of sober reflection and who scarcely ever look beyond
the present state of existence. They harrow up the popular
instincts; and with the people instinct is everything. The man
who secures the command over their instincts may do any thing
with them; he who fails in that respect cannot manage them at
all. ... It is most desirable, then, that the inequality
complained of should be kindly and frankly explained.
In doing so, we might say something to the following effect:--
"Dear friends, this subject is quite as painful to us as it can
be to you; but you are aware that there are some stern
necessities in life. The Church is poor nowadays, and yet has
many expenses to meet. The sacred fabrics must be maintained,
the wages of employés paid, suitable furniture provided, and we
ourselves, brethren, even we, the clergy, must live. ... Would
you like us to go begging our bread? Say, would you wish that?
Certainly not; for if you knew we were in need, you would be
the first to succor us, even though you had to stint
yourselves.
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Moreover, it is our duty to visit the poor; and would you
condemn us to the greatest possible misery, that of witnessing
want without being able to relieve it? Say, would you inflict
such torture upon us? Well, then, brethren, the money in
question goes to defray these expenses, to give us bread, and
to enable us to alleviate the necessities of the poor.
"Instead of complaining, therefore, be content that the
weddings and burials of the wealthy should be made to provide
for these requisites. Moreover, brethren, let us lift up our
souls and look beyond the present life. Thank God, we are not
destined to spend all our existence on earth. You know full
well that this life is not all our life. There is another to
follow, where all the inequalities which we see here will be
perfectly adjusted, and when every one shall receive according
to his works and not according to his good fortune. Why, then,
attach so much importance to these matters? Surely you do not
think that God troubles Himself about them; that He counts the
number of tapers, or carpets, or chairs? ... God looks to see
whether a man has been upright and honest, faithfully
discharging his duties as a citizen and a Christian. Be all
that, my brethren, and He will not fail to give you a blissful
abode in heaven; which will be far better than the most
magnificent place in the church, either at your wedding or your
funeral."
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