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CHAPTER 1
The First Motive which obliges us to
practice Virtue and to serve God:
His Being in itself, and the excellence of
His Perfections
Two things, Christian reader, particularly excite
the will of man to good. A principle of justice is one, the other the profit
we may derive therefrom. All wise men, therefore, agree that justice and
profit are the two most powerful inducements to move our wills to any
undertaking. Now, though men seek profit more frequently than justice, yet
justice is in itself more powerful; for, as Aristotle teaches, no worldly
advantage can equal the excellence of virtue, nor is any loss so great that a
wise man should not suffer it rather than yield to vice. The design of this
book being to win men to virtue, we shall begin by showing our obligation to
practice virtue because of the duty we owe to God. God being essentially
goodness and beauty, there is nothing more pleasing to Him than virtue,
nothing He more earnestly requires. Let us first seriously consider upon what
grounds God demands this tribute from us.
But as these are innumerable, we shall only treat
of the six principal motives which claim for God all that man is or all that
man can do. The first; the greatest, and the most inexplicable is the very
essence of God, embracing His infinite majesty, goodness, mercy, justice,
wisdom, omnipotence, excellence, beauty, fidelity, immutability, sweetness,
truth, beatitude, and all the inexhaustible riches and perfections which are
contained in the Divine Being.
All these are so great that if the whole world,
according to St. Augustine, were full of books, if the sea were turned to
ink, and every creature employed in writing, the books would be filled, the
sea would be drained, and the writers would be exhausted before any one of
His perfections could be adequately expressed. The same Doctor adds,
"Were any man created with a heart as large and capacious as the hearts
of all men together, and if he were enabled by an extraordinary light to
apprehend one of the divine attributes, his joy and delight would be such
that, unless supported by special assistance from God, he could not endure
them.
This, then, is the first and chief reason which
obliges us to love and serve God. It is a truth so universally acknowledged
that even the Epicureans, who endeavored to destroy all philosophy by denying
a Divine Providence and the immortality of the soul, nevertheless maintained
religion, or the worship due to God.
One of these philosophers (Cicero, De Natura
Deorum) proves the existence of God by strong and undeniable arguments.
He proclaims the greatness and sovereignty of His admirable perfections,
which oblige us to reverence and adore Him, and shows that for this reason
alone, independently of any other title, God has a right to our love and
service.
If we treat a king, even out of his own dominion,
with respect and honor purely because of the dignity of his person, though we
owe him nothing, with how much more justice should we render honor and
service to this King and Lord, who, as St. John tells us, bears written
"on his garment, and on his thigh: KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF
LORDS"! (Apoc. 19:16). This is He who hath "poised with three
fingers the bulk of the earth." (Is. 40:12).
All beings are in His power; He disposes of them
as He wills. It is He who propels the heavenly bodies, commands the winds,
changes the seasons, guides the elements, distributes the waters, controls
the stars, creates all things; it is He, in fine, who, as King and Lord of
the universe, maintains and nourishes all creatures.
Nor is His kingdom acquired or inherited. By His
very nature it is for Him an inherent right. Just as man is above, the ant,
for example, so is the Divine. Substance in an eminent degree above all
created things, and the whole universe is no more than one of these little
insects compared to Him. If this truth were so manifest to the Epicureans,
otherwise unworthy of the name of philosophers, how much clearer ought it not
be to us, who have been illumined by the light of true Christian philosophy!
For this latter teaches us, in fact, that among the innumerable reasons which
oblige us to serve God, this is the greatest; and though men were endowed
with a thousand hearts and a thousand bodies, this reason alone should be
sufficient to cause them to devote them all to His love and service.
Though of all motives this is the most powerful,
yet it has the least influence on the imperfect. The reason for this is that,
on the one hand, they are more moved by self-interest, self-love having deep
root in their hearts; and on the other, being still ignorant, and novices in
the ways of God, they are unable to appreciate His grandeur and beauty. Had
they a better knowledge of His perfections, His beauty would enrapture their
souls and cause them to love Him above all things. Therefore we shall furnish
some considerations from the mystical theology of St. Denis which will help
them to apprehend the perfections of the Master they serve.
To lead us to a knowledge of God, St. Denis
teaches us first to turn our eyes from the qualities or perfections of
creatures, lest we be tempted to measure by them the perfections of the
Creator. Then, turning from the things of earth, he raises our souls to the
contemplation of a Being above all beings, a Substance above all substances,
a Light above all lights rather a Light before which all light is darkness
Beauty above all beauties and before which all other beauty is but
deformity. This is what we are taught by the cloud into which Moses entered
to converse with God, and which shut out from his senses all that was not
God. (Ex. 24:16,18). And the action of Elias, covering his face with
his cloak when he saw the glory of God passing before him, is a lively
expression of the same sentiment. (3Kg. 19:13). Therefore, to
contemplate the glory of God, man must close his eyes to earthly things,
which bear no proportion to this supreme Being.
We shall better understand this truth if we
consider with more attention the vast difference between this uncreated Being
and all other beings, between the Creator and His creatures. The latter
without exception have had a beginning and may have an end, while this
eternal Being is without beginning and without end. They all acknowledge a
superior and depend upon another, while He has no superior and is the supreme
Arbiter of all things. Creatures are composed of various substances, while He
is a pure and simple Being; were He composed of diverse substances it would
presuppose a being above and before Him to ordain the composition of these
substances, which is altogether impossible. Creatures are subject to change;
God is immutable. They all admit of greater perfection; they can increase in
possessions, in knowledge. God cannot increase in perfection, containing
within Himself all perfection; nor in possessions, for He is the source of
all riches; nor in knowledge, for everything is present to His eternal
omniscience. Therefore Aristotle calls Him a pure act that is,
Supreme Perfection, which admits of no increase. The needs of creatures
subject them to movement and change; God, having no necessities, is fixed and
immovable, and present in all places. We find in all creatures diversities
which distinguish them one from another, but the purity of God's Essence
admits of no distinction; so that His Being is His Essence, His Essence is
His Power, His Power is His Will, His Will is His Understanding, His
Understanding is His Being, His Being is His Wisdom, His Wisdom is His
Justice, His Justice is His Mercy. And though the last two attributes are
differently manifested, the duty of mercy being to pardon, that of justice to
punish, yet they are one and the same power.
The Divine Being thus comprises in its unity
apparently opposite qualities and perfections which we can never sufficiently
admire; for, as St. Augustine observes, "He is a profoundly hidden God,
yet everywhere present; He is essentially strength and beauty; He is
immutable and incomprehensible; He is beyond all space, yet fills all the
universe; invisible, yet manifest to all creatures; producing all motion, yet
is Himself immovable; always in action, yet ever at rest, He fills all things
and is circumscribed by nothing; He provides for all things without the least
solicitude; He is great without quantity, therefore He is immense; He is good
without qualification, and therefore He is the Supreme Good." (Meditations,
19 and 20). Nay, "One is good, God." (Matt. 19:17).
Finally, all created things having a limited
being, their power is likewise limited; the works they accomplish, the space
they fill, their very names, are no less limited. Human words can define
them; they can be assigned a certain character and reduced to a certain
species. But the Divine Substance cannot be defined nor comprehended under
any species, nor can It be confined to any place, nor can any name express
It. Though nameless, therefore, as St. Denis says, It yet has all possible
names, since It possesses in Itself all the perfections expressed by these
names.
As limited beings, therefore, creatures can be
comprehended; but the Divine Essence, being infinite, is beyond the reach of
any created understanding. For that which is limitless, says Aristotle, can
only be grasped by an infinite understanding. As a man on the shore beholds
the sea, yet cannot measure its depth or vastness, so the blessed spirits and
all the elect contemplate God, yet cannot fathom the abyss of His greatness
nor measure the duration of His eternity. For this reason also God is
represented "seated upon the cherubim" (Dan. 3:55 and Ps.
17:11), who, though filled with treasures of divine wisdom, continue beneath
His majesty and power, which it is not given them to grasp or understand.
This is what David teaches when he tells us that
God "made darkness His covert" (Ps. 17:12), or, as the
Apostle more clearly expresses it, He "inhabiteth light
inaccessible." (1Tim. 6:16). The prophet calls this light
darkness because it dazzles and blinds our human vision. Nothing is more
resplendent and more visible than the sun, as a philosopher admirably
remarks, yet because of its very splendor and the weakness of our vision
there is nothing upon which we can gaze less. So also there is no being more
intelligible in itself than God, and yet none we understand less in this
present life.
Know, therefore, you who aspire to a knowledge of
God, that He is a Being superior to anything you can conceive. The more
sensible you are of your inability to comprehend Him, the more you will have
advanced in a knowledge of His Being. Thus St. Gregory, commenting on these
words of Job: "Who doth great things and unsearchable, and wonderful
things without number" (Job 5:9), says, "We never more
eloquently praise the works of the Almighty than when our tongue is mute in
rapt wonder; silence is the only adequate praise when words are powerless to
express the perfections we would extol."
St. Denis also tells us to honor with mute
veneration, and a silence full of love and fear, the wonders and glory of
God, before whom the most sublime intelligences are prostrate. The holy
Doctor seems to allude here to the words of the prophet as translated by St.
Jerome, "Praise is mute before thee, God of Sion," giving us to understand,
doubtless, that the most adequate praise is a modest and respectful silence
springing from the conviction of our inability to comprehend God. We thus
confess the incomprehensible grandeur and sovereign majesty of Him whose
being is above all being, whose power is above all power, whose glory is
above all glory, whose substance is immeasurably raised above all other
substances, visible or invisible. Upon this point St. Augustine has said with
much beauty and force, "When I seek my God I seek not corporal grace,
nor transient beauty, nor splendor, nor melodious sound, nor sweet fragrance
of flowers, nor odorous essence, nor honeyed manna, nor grace of form, nor
anything pleasing to the flesh. None of these things do I seek when I seek my
God. But I seek a light exceeding all light, which the eyes cannot see; a
voice sweeter than all sound, which the ear cannot hear; a sweetness above
all sweetness, which the tongue cannot taste; a fragrance above all
fragrance, which the senses cannot perceive; a mysterious and divine embrace,
which the body cannot feel. For this light shines without radiance, this
voice is heard without striking the air, this fragrance is perceived though
the wind does not bear it, this taste inebriates with no palate to relish it,
and this embrace is felt in the center of the soul." (Conf.,
L.10, 6; Solil., c. 31).
If you would have further proof of the infinite
power and greatness of God, contemplate the order and beauty of the world. Let
us first bear in mind, as St. Denis tells us, that effects are proportioned
to their cause, and then consider the admirable order, marvelous beauty, and
incomprehensible grandeur of the universe. There are stars in heaven several
hundred times larger than the earth and sea together. Consider also the
infinite variety of creatures in all parts of the world, on the earth, in the
air, and in the water, each with an organization so perfect that never has
there been discovered in them anything superfluous or not suited to the end
for which they are destined; and this truth is in no way weakened by the
existence of monsters, which are but distortions of nature, due to the
imperfection of created causes.
And this vast and majestic universe God created in
a single instant, according to the opinion of St. Augustine and St. Clement
of Alexandria; from nothing He drew being, without matter or element,
instrument or model, unlimited by time or space. He created the whole world
and all that is contained therein by a single act of His will. And He could
as easily have created millions of worlds greater, more beautiful, and more
populous than ours, and could as easily reduce them again to nothing.
Since, therefore, according to St. Denis, effects
bear a proportion to their cause, what must be the power of a cause which has
produced such effects? Yet all these great and perfect works are vastly
inferior to their Divine Author. Who could not but be filled with admiration
and astonishment in contemplating the greatness of such a Being? Though we
cannot see it with our corporal eyes, yet the reflections we have just
indicated must enable us in a measure to conceive the grandeur and
incomprehensibility of His power.
St. Thomas, in his Summa Theologica,
endeavors by the following argument to give us some idea of the immensity of
God: We see, he tells us, that in material things that which excels in
perfection also excels in quantity. Thus the water is greater than the earth,
the air is greater than the water, and fire is greater than the air. The
first heaven is more extensive than the element of fire, the second heaven is
more extensive than the first, the third likewise exceeds the second, and so
of the others till we come to the tenth sphere, or the empyreal heaven, to
the grandeur and beauty of which nothing in the universe can be compared.
Consequently the empyreal heavens, the finest and noblest of all the bodies
which compose the universe, being incomparably greater than all the rest, we
may infer, adds the Angelic Doctor, how far God, the first, the greatest, the
most perfect of all beings, spiritual or corporal, and the Creator of all,
exceeds them, not in material quantity for He is a pure spirit but in
every possible perfection.
Thus we begin to understand, in some manner, what
are the perfections of God, since they cannot but be in proportion to His
being. For, as we read in Ecclesiasticus, "According to His
greatness, so also is His mercy with Him." (Ecclus. 2:23). Nor
are any of His other attributes less. Hence He is infinitely wise, infinitely
merciful, infinitely just, infinitely good, and, therefore, infinitely worthy
to be obeyed, feared, and reverenced by all creatures. Were the human heart
capable of infinite homage, infinite love, it should offer them to this supreme
Master. For if reverence and homage must be proportioned to the greatness and
dignity of him to whom they are offered, then the homage we offer God should,
if we were capable of it, be infinite also.
How great, then, is our obligation to love God, had
He no other title to our love and service! What can he love who does not love
such Goodness? What can he fear who does not fear this infinite Majesty? Whom
will he serve who refuses to serve such a Master? And why was our will given
to us, if not to embrace and love good? If, therefore, this great God be the
Sovereign Good, why does not our will embrace it before all other goods? If
it be a great evil not to love and reverence Him above all things, who can
express the crime of those who love everything better than they love Him?
It is almost incredible that the malice and
blindness of man can go so far; but yet, alas! How many there are who for a
base pleasure, for an imaginary point of honor, for a vile and sordid
interest, continually offend this Sovereign Goodness! There are others who go
further and sin without any of these motives, through pure malice or habit.
Oh! Incomprehensible blindness! Oh! More than brute stupidity! Oh! Rashness!
Oh! Folly worthy of demons! What is the chastisement proportioned to the
crime of those who thus despise their Maker? Surely none other than that
which these senseless creatures will receive the eternal fire of Hell.
Here, then, is the first motive which obliges us
to love and serve God. This is an obligation so great that compared to it,
all obligations to creatures, whatever their excellence or perfections, are
only obligations in name. For as the perfections of creatures are mere
imperfections compared with the perfections of God, so the obligations
resulting therefrom cannot with justice be considered obligations when
contrasted with those which we owe to God. Nor can our offences against the
creature be regarded as offenses, except in name, when we remember the guilt
we have incurred by our many sins against God.
For this reason David cried out, "Against
thee only, O God, have I sinned" (Ps. 50:6), though he had sinned
against Urias, whom he murdered; against the wife of Urias, whom he
dishonored; and against his subjects, whom he scandalized. The penitent king
knew that his offences against creatures, notwithstanding their different
degrees of deformity, could not equal the enormity of his revolt against God.
For God being infinite, our obligations towards Him and our offences against
Him are, in a measure, infinite.
CHAPTER 2
The Second Motive which obliges us to
practice virtue and to serve God:
Gratitude for our Creation
We are obliged to practice virtue and keep God's
commandments not only because of what God is in Himself, but because of what
He is to us, because of His innumerable benefits to us.
The first of these benefits is our creation,
which obliges man to give himself wholly to the service of his Creator, for
in justice he stands indebted to Him for all he has received; and since he
has received his body with all its senses, and his soul with all its
faculties, he is obliged to employ them in the service of his Creator, or
incur the guilt of theft and ingratitude towards his gracious Benefactor. For
if a man builds a house, who should have the use and profit of it, if not he
who built it? To whom does the fruit of a vine belong, if not to him who has
planted it? Whom should children serve, if not the father who gave them
being? Hence the law gives a father almost unlimited power over his children,
so natural does it seem that he should be master of an existence of which he
is the author.
What, then, should be the authority of God, the
sovereign Author of all being in Heaven and on earth? And if, as Seneca
remarks, those who receive benefits are obliged to imitate good soil and
return with interest what they have received, what return can we make to God,
when we have nothing to offer Him but what we have received from His infinite
goodness? What, therefore, must we think of those who not only make no return
to their Creator, but use His benefits to offend Him? Aristotle tells us that
man can never make adequate return to his parents or to the gods for the
favors received from them. How, then, can we make a suitable return to the
great God, the Father of us all, for the innumerable blessings bestowed upon
us? If disobedience to parents be so grievous a crime, how heinous must it
not be to rebel against this gracious God!
He Himself complains of this ingratitude by the
mouth of His prophet: "The son honoreth the father, and the servant his
master: if, then, I be a father, where is my honor? And if I be a master,
where is my fear?" (Mal. 1:6). Another servant of God, filled
with indignation at like ingratitude, exclaims, "Is this the return thou
makest to the Lord, O foolish and senseless people? Is not he thy father,
that hath possessed thee, and made thee, and created thee?" (Deut.
32:6). This reproach is addressed to those who never raise their eyes to
Heaven to consider what God is, who never look upon themselves in order to
know themselves. Knowing nothing, therefore, of their origin or the end for
which they are created, they live as though they themselves were the authors
of their being.
This was the crime of the unfortunate king of
Egypt to whom God said, "Behold, I come against thee, Pharao, king of
Egypt, thou great dragon that liest in the midst of thy rivers and sayest:
The river is mine, and I made myself." (Ezech. 29:3). This is, at
least practically, the language of those who act as though they were the
principle of their own being, and who refuse to recognize any obligation to
serve their Maker.
How different were the sentiments of St.
Augustine, who by studying his origin was brought to the knowledge of Him
from whom he had received his being! "I returned to myself," he
says, "and entered into myself, saying: What art thou? And I answered: A
rational and mortal man. And I began to examine what this was, and I said: O
my Lord and my God, who has created so noble a creature as this? Who, O Lord,
but Thou? Thou, O my God, hast made me! I have not made myself. What art
Thou, Thou by whom I live and from whom all things receive being? Can anyone
create himself or receive his being but from Thee? Art Thou not the source of
all being, the fountain whence all life flows? For whatsoever has life lives
by Thee, because nothing can live without Thee. It is Thou, O Lord, that hast
made me, and without Thee nothing is made! Thou art my Creator, and I am Thy
creature. I thank Thee, O my Creator, because Thy hands have made and
fashioned me! I thank Thee, O my Light, for having enlightened me and brought
me to the knowledge of what Thou art and what I myself am!"
This, then, the first of Gods benefits, is the
foundation of all the others, for all other benefits presuppose existence,
which is given us at our creation. Let us now consider the acknowledgment God
demands of us, for He is no less rigid in requiring our gratitude than He is
magnificent in bestowing His benefits; and this is an additional proof of His
love, for our gratitude results in no advantage to Him, but enables us to
profit by the favors we have received, and thus merit other graces from His
infinite goodness.
Thus we read in the Old Testament that whenever He
bestowed a favor upon His people He immediately commanded them to keep it in
remembrance. When He brought the Israelites out of Egypt He commanded them to
commemorate by a solemn festival every year their happy deliverance from
bondage. When He slew the firstborn of the Egyptians and spared the Israelites,
He commanded that the latter, in return, should consecrate their firstborn to
Him. When He sent them manna from Heaven to sustain them in the wilderness,
He ordered that a portion of it should be put in a vessel and kept in the
tabernacle as a memorial to generations of this extraordinary favor. After
giving them victory over Amalec He told Moses to write it for a memorial in a
book, and deliver it to Josue.
Since, therefore, God so rigidly requires a
continual remembrance of the temporal favors He grants us, what return of
gratitude will He not demand for this immortal benefit? Such we truly call
the benefit of creation, because with it we receive from God the gift of an
immortal soul. The patriarchs of old were deeply sensible of this obligation of
gratitude, and therefore we read that whenever God bestowed upon them any
special favor or blessing they evinced their gratitude by erecting altars to
His name and by rearing other monuments to commemorate His mercies to them.
Even the names they gave their children expressed the favors they had
received, so desirous were they that their debt of gratitude to God should
never be forgotten. St. Augustine, speaking on this subject in one of his
soliloquies, says, "Man should think of God as often as he breathes; for
as his being is continuous and immortal, he should continually return thanks
to the Author of his being."
This obligation is so deeply graven in nature that
even the philosophers and sages of this world earnestly inculcate gratitude
to God. Hear the counsel of Epictetus: "Be not ungrateful, O man, to
this sovereign Power, but return thanks for the faculties with which He has
endowed thee, for thy life itself and for all the things which sustain it,
for fruits, wine, oil, and whatever advantages of fortune thou hast received
from Him; but praise Him particularly for thy reason, which teaches thee the
proper use and the true worth of all these things." If a pagan
philosopher teaches such gratitude for benefits common to all men, what
should be the gratitude of a Christian, who has received the light of faith
in addition to that of reason, as well as other gifts vastly superior to
those we have just mentioned?
But perhaps you will urge that these benefits
common to all seem the work of nature rather than graces emanating from God;
and why, you ask, should I be grateful for the general order which reigns in
the world, and because things follow their natural course? This objection is
unworthy of a Christian, of a pagan, of any but an unreasonable animal. Hear
how the same philosopher answers it: "You will say, perhaps, that you
receive all these benefits from nature. Senseless man! In saying this you but
change the name of God, your Benefactor. For what is nature but God Himself,
the first and original nature? Therefore, it is no excuse, ungrateful man, to
urge that you are indebted, not to God, but to nature; for without God there
is no nature. Were you to receive a benefit from Lucius Seneca you would not
dare to say that you were indebted to Lucius and not to Seneca. Such a
subterfuge would change your benefactor's name, but would by no means cancel
your obligation to him."
It is not only a motive of justice which obliges
us to serve God, but our necessities force us to have recourse to Him if we
would attain the perfection and happiness for which we were created.
In order to understand this more clearly, let us
call to mind the general principle that creatures are not born with all their
perfections. There remain many to be cultivated and developed, and only He
who has begun the work can perfect it. Things instinctively go back to their
first cause for their development and perfection. Plants unceasingly seek the
sun, and sink their roots deep into the earth where they were formed. Fishes
will not leave the element where they were engendered. Chickens seek
vivifying warmth and shelter beneath their mother's wings. In like manner a
lamb, until it has attained its strength, clings to the side of its ewe,
distinguishing her among a thousand of the same color, arguing, doubtless,
with blind instinct, that it must seek what it lacks at the source whence it
has received all that it is.
This is apparent in all the works of nature, and
if those of art could reason they would doubtless proceed in like manner.
Were a painter to make a beautiful picture and omit the eyes, whither would
the picture, were it sensible of its want, go to seek its completion? Not to
the palaces of kings or princes, for all their power could not give it what
it sought; no, it would seek its first cause, the master who designed it. And
is not this thy position also, O rational creature? Thou art an unfinished
work. Many things are lacking to the perfection of thy being. Thou hast
naught of the beauty and luster which are yet to be thine. Hence thy
restless, unsatisfied yearning; hence those unceasing aspirations for a
higher, a better state, which arise from thy very necessities.
Yes, God let thee hunger, in order that, driven by
necessity; thou mightest have recourse to Him. For this reason He did not
give thee perfection at thy creation, but He withheld it only through love
for thee. It was not to make thee poor, but to make thee humble; it was not
to leave thee needy, but to compel thee to have recourse to Him.
If, then, thou art blind, poor, and in need, why
dost thou not seek the Father who created thee, the Artist who designed thee,
that He may satisfy thy wants and supply all that is lacking to thy
perfection? Penetrated with this truth David cried out, "Thy hands have
made me and formed me: give me understanding, and I will learn thy
commandments." (Ps. 118:73).
Thy hands have made me, the prophet would say, but
the work is incomplete. The eyes of my soul are still imperfect; they see not
what they ought to know. To whom shall I go in my necessities, if not to Him
from whom I have received all that I possess? Enlighten, then, my eyes, O
Lord, that they may know Thee, and that the work Thou hast begun in me may be
perfected. Therefore, only God can perfect the understanding, the will, and
all the faculties of the soul.
It is He alone who satisfies His creature and
never fails him. With Him the creature is content in poverty, rich in
destitution, happy in solitude, and though despoiled of all possessions, yet
master of all things. Hence the wise man so justly says, "One is as it
were rich, when he hath nothing: and another is as it were poor, when he hath
great riches." (Prov. 13:7). Rich indeed is the poor man who,
like St. Francis of Assisi, has God for his inheritance, though owning naught
else; but poor would he be who knew not God, though he possessed the entire
universe. What do their wealth and power avail the rich and great of this
world when they are a prey to anxieties which they cannot calm, a victim to
appetites which they cannot satisfy? For what comfort can costly raiment,
luxurious viands, and overflowing coffers bring to a troubled mind? The rich
man tosses restlessly on his soft couch, and his treasure is powerless to
stifle the remorse which banishes sleep. Independently, therefore, of God s
benefits to us, we are, from the necessities of our nature, obliged to serve
Him, if we would attain our happiness and perfection.
CHAPTER 3
The Third Motive which obliges us to serve
God:
Gratitude for our Preservation and for the
Government of His Providence
Another motive which obliges man to serve God is
the benefit of preservation. God gave you being, and still preserves
it to you, for you are as powerless to subsist without Him as you were
incapable of coming into existence without Him. The benefit of preservation
is not less than that of creation. It is even greater, for your creation was
but a single act, while your preservation is a continuous manifestation of
God's abiding love. If, then, your creation demands from you so great a
return of gratitude, who can reckon the debt you owe for the gift of
preservation? There is not a movement of your eye, there is not a step you
take, which is not by His power. Far if you do not believe that it is through
Him that you live and act, you are no longer a Christian; and if, believing
it, you continue deliberately to offend your Benefactor, how can I say what
you are?
If a man on the top of a high tower held another
suspended by a small cord over an abyss, do you think the latter would dare
to address injurious words to him who held him thus suspended? How is it,
then, that you, whose existence hangs by a thread which God can sever at any
moment, dare excite the anger of this infinite Majesty by outraging Him with
the very benefits He mercifully preserves to you?
The goodness of this sovereign Being is so great,
says St. Denis, that while creatures are offending Him and madly rebelling
against His will, He continues to give them the power and strength which they
use to resist Him. How, then, can you be so rash, so ungrateful as to turn
against God the blessings with which He has loaded you? Oh! Incredible
blindness! Oh! Senseless rebellion-that the members would conspire against their
Head, for which they ought to be ready to make any sacrifice!
But a time will come when God's outraged patience
shall be avenged. You have conspired against God. It is just that He should
arm the universe against you, that all creatures should rise up against you
to avenge their Creator. They who closed their eyes to the sweet light of His
mercy while it still shone upon them and allured them by so many benefits
will justly behold it when, too late for amendment, they shall be groaning
under the severity of His justice.
Consider in addition to this benefit the rich and
delightful banquet of nature prepared for you by your Creator. Everything in
this world is for man's use, directly or indirectly. Insects serve as food
for birds, which in their turn serve as food for man. In like manner the
grass of the fields supports the animals destined also for man's service.
Cast your eye upon this vast world, and behold the abundance of your
possessions, the magnificence of your inheritance. All that move upon the earth,
or swim in the water, or fly in the air, or live under the sun are made for
you.
Every creature is a benefit of God, the work of
His Providence, a ray of His beauty, a token of His mercy, a spark of His
love, a voice which proclaims His magnificence. These are the eloquent
messengers of God continually reminding you of your obligations to Him.
"Everything," says St. Augustine, "in Heaven and on earth
calls upon me to love Thee, O Lord! And the universe unceasingly exhorts all
men to love Thee, that none may exempt themselves from this sweet law."
Oh! That you had ears to hear the voice of
creatures appealing to you to love God. Their expressive silence tells you
that they were created to serve you, while yours is the sweet duty of
praising your common Lord not only in your own name but in theirs also. I
flood your days with light, the heavens declare, and your nights I illumine
with the soft radiance of my stars. By my different influences all nature
bears fruit in season for your necessities.
I sustain your breath, the air tells you; with
gentle breezes I refresh you and temper your bodily heat. I maintain an
almost infinite variety of birds to delight you with their beauty, to ravish
you with their songs, and to feed you; with their flesh. I maintain for your
nourishment innumerable fishes, the water exclaims. I water your lands, that
they may give you their fruit in due season. I afford you an easy passage to
distant countries; that you may add their riches to those of your own.
But what says the earth, this common mother of all
things, this vast storehouse of the treasures of nature? Surely she may tell
you: Like a good mother I bear you in my arms; I prepare food for all your
necessities; I procure the concurrence of the heavens and all the elements for
your welfare. Never do I abandon you, for after supporting you during life, I
receive you in death and in my own bosom give you a final resting place.
Thus can the whole universe with one voice cry
out: Behold how my Master and Creator has loved you. He has created me for
your happiness, that I might serve you, and that you in your turn might love
and serve Him; for I have been made for you, and you have been made for God.
This is the voice of all creatures. Will you be
deaf to it? Will you be insensible to so many benefits? You have been loaded
with favors. Do not forget the debt you thence contract. Beware of the crime
of ingratitude. Every creature, says Richard of St. Victor, addresses these
three words to man: Receive, give, beware. Receive the benefit; give
thanks for it; and beware of the punishment of ingratitude.
Epictetus, a pagan philosopher, fully appreciated
this truth. He teaches us to behold the Creator in all His creatures, and to
refer to Him all the blessings we receive from them. "When you are
warned," he says, "of a change in the atmosphere by the redoubled
cries of the crow, it is not the crow, but God who warns you. And if the
voice of men gives you wise counsel and useful knowledge, it is also God who
speaks. For He has given them this wisdom and knowledge, and, therefore, you
must recognize His power in the instruments He wills to employ. But when He
wishes to acquaint you with matters of greater moment He chooses more noble
and worthy messengers."
The same philosopher adds, "When you will
have finished reading my counsels, say to yourself: It is not Epictetus the
philosopher who tells me all these things; it is God. For whence in fact has
he received the power to give these counsels but from God? Is it not God
Himself, therefore, who speaks to me through him?" Such are the
sentiments of Epictetus. Should not a Christian blush to be less enlightened
than a pagan philosopher? Surely it is shameful that they who are illumined
by faith should not see what was so clear to them who had no other guide than
the light of simple reason.
Since, then, every creature is a benefit from God,
how can we live surrounded by these proofs of His love, and yet never think
of Him? If, wearied and hungry, you seated yourself at the foot of a tower,
and a beneficent creature from above sent you food and refreshment, could you
forbear raising your eyes to your kind benefactor? Yet God continually sends
down upon you blessings of every kind.
Find me, I pray you, but one thing which does not
come from God, which does not happen by His special Providence. Why is it,
then, that you never raise your eyes to this indefatigable and generous
Benefactor? Ah! We have divested ourselves of our own nature, so to speak,
and have fallen into worse than brute insensibility. I blush, in truth, to
say what we resemble in this particular, but it is good for man to hear it.
We are like a herd of swine feeding under an oak. While their keeper is
showering down acorns, they greedily devour them, grunting and quarrelling
with one another, yet never raising their eyes to the master who is feeding
them. Oh! Brutelike ingratitude of the children of Adam! We have received the
light of reason, and an upright form. Our head is directed to Heaven, not to
earth, which ought to teach us to raise the eyes of our soul to the abode of
our Benefactor.
Would that irrational creatures did not excel us
in this duty! But the law of gratitude, so dear to God, is so deeply
impressed on all creatures that we find this noble sentiment even in the most
savage beasts. What nature is more savage than that of a lion? Yet Appian, a
Greek author, tells us that a certain man took refuge in a cave, where he
extracted a thorn from the foot of a lion. Grateful for the kindness, the
noble animal ever after shared his prey with his benefactor while he remained
in the cave. Some years later this man, having been charged with a crime, was
condemned to be exposed to wild beasts in the amphitheater. When the time of
execution arrived, a lion which had been lately captured was let loose on the
prisoner. Instead of tearing his victim to pieces he gazed at him intently,
and, recognizing his former benefactor, he gave evident signs of joy, leaping
and fawning upon him as a dog would upon his master. Moved by this spectacle,
the judges, on hearing his story, released both man and lion. Forgetful of
his former wildness, the lion, until his death, continued to follow his
master through the streets of Rome without offering the slightest injury to
anyone.
A like instance of gratitude is related of another
lion that was strangling in the coils of a serpent when a gentleman riding by
came to his rescue and killed the serpent. The grateful animal, to show his
devotion, took up his abode with his deliverer and followed him wherever he
went, like a faithful dog. One day the gentleman set sail, leaving the lion
behind him on the shore. Impatient to be with his master, the faithful animal
plunged into the sea, and, being unable to reach the vessel, was drowned.
What instances could we not relate of the fidelity
and gratitude of the horse! Pliny, in his Natural History (8,40),
tells us that horses have been seen to shed tears at the death of their
masters, and even to starve themselves to death for the same reason. Nor are
the gratitude and fidelity of dogs less surprising. Of these the same author
relates most marvelous things. He gives, among other examples, an instance
which occurred in his own time at Rome. A man condemned to death was allowed
in prison the companionship of his dog. The faithful animal never left him,
and even after death remained by the lifeless body to testify to his grief.
If food were given to him he immediately brought it to his master and laid it
on his lifeless lips. Finally, when the remains were thrown into the Tiber, he
plunged into the river, and, having placed himself beneath the body,
struggled till the last to keep it from sinking. Could there be gratitude
greater than this?
Now, if beasts, with no other guide than natural instinct,
thus show their love and gratitude for their masters, how can man, possessing
the superior guidance of reason, live in such forgetfulness of his
Benefactor? Will he suffer the brute creation to give him lessons in
fidelity, gratitude, and kindness? Moreover, will he forget that the benefits
he receives from God are incomparably superior to those which animals receive
from men? Will he forget that his Benefactor is so infinite in His
excellence, so disinterested in His love, overwhelming His creatures with
blessings which can in no way benefit Himself? This must ever be a subject of
wonder and astonishment, and evidently proves that there are evil spirits who
darken our understanding, weaken our memory, and harden our heart, in order
to make us forget so bountiful a Benefactor.
If it be so great a crime to forget this Lord,
what must it be to insult Him, and to convert His benefits into the
instruments of our offences against Him? "The first degree of
ingratitude," says Seneca, "is to neglect to repay the benefits we
have received; the second is to forget them; the third is to requite the
benefactor with evil." But what shall we say of that excess of
ingratitude which goes so far as to outrage the benefactor with his own
benefits? I doubt whether one man ever treated another as we dare to treat
God. What man, having received a large sum of money from his sovereign, would
be so ungrateful as immediately to employ it in raising an army against him?
Yet you, unhappy creatures, never cease to make war upon God with the very
benefits you have received from Him.
How infamous would be the conduct of a married
woman who, having received a rich present from her husband, would bestow it
upon the object of her unlawful love in order to secure his affections! The world
would regard it as base, unparalleled treason; yet the offence is only
between equals. But what proportions the crime assumes when the affront is
from a creature to God! Yet is not this the crime of men who consume their
health, and who waste, in the pursuit of vice, the means that God has given
them? They pervert their strength to the gratification of their pride; their
beauty but feeds their heir flesh, to traffic in innocence, bargaining, even
as the Jews did with Judas, for the Blood of Christ! What shall I say of
their abuse of other benefits?
The sea serves but to satisfy their gluttony and
their ambition; the beauty of creatures excites their gross sensuality;
earthly possessions but feed their avarice; and talents, whether natural or
acquired, only tend to increase their vanity and pride. Prosperity inflates
them with folly, and adversity reduces them to despair. They choose the
darkness of the night to hide their thefts, and the light of day to lay their
snares, as we read in Job. In a word, they pervert all that God has created
for His glory to the gratification of their inordinate passions.
What shall I say of their effeminate adornments,
their costly fabrics, their extravagant perfumes, their sumptuous tables
groaning under the weight of rare and luxurious viands? Nay, sensuality and
luxury are so general that, to our shame, books are published to teach us how
to sin in these respects. Men have perverted creatures from their lawful use,
and instead of making God's benefits a help to virtue, they have turned them
into instruments of vice. So great is the selfishness of the world that there
is nothing which men do not sacrifice to the gratification of the flesh,
wholly forgetful of the poor, whom God has so specially recommended to their
care. Such persons never find that they are poor until they are asked for
alms; at any other time there is no extravagant luxury their income cannot
afford.
Beware lest this terrible accusation be made
against you at the hour of death! The greater the benefits you have
perverted, the more severe the account you will have to render. It is a great
sign of reprobation for a man to continue to abuse the favors God has
bestowed upon him. To have received much, and to have made but small return,
is, in a manner, already to have judged oneself. If the Ninivites shall rise
in judgment against the Jews for not having done penance at Our Saviour's
teaching, let us see that the same Lord shall have no reason to condemn us
upon the example of beasts that love their benefactors, while we manifest
such gross ingratitude to the Supreme Benefactor of all.
CHAPTER 4
The Fourth Motive which obliges us to
practice Virtue:
Gratitude for the Inestimable Benefit of
our Redemption
Let us now consider the supreme benefit of divine
love, the redemption of man. But I feel myself so unworthy, so unfitted to
speak of such a mystery that I know not where to begin or where to leave off,
or whether it were not better for me to be silent altogether. Did not man, in
his lethargy, need an incentive to virtue, better would it be to prostrate
ourselves in mute adoration before the incomprehensible grandeur of this
mystery than vainly essay to explain it in imperfect human language. It is
said that a famous painter of antiquity, wishing to represent the death of a
king's daughter, painted her friends and relatives about her with mournful
countenances. In her mother's face grief was still more strongly depicted.
But before the face of the king he painted a dark veil to signify that his
grief was beyond the power of art to express.
Now, if all that we have said so inadequately
expresses the single benefit of creation, how can we with any justice
represent the supreme benefit of Redemption? By a single act of His will God
created the whole universe, diminishing thereby neither the treasures of His
riches nor the power of His almighty arm. But to redeem the world He labored
for thirty-three years by the sweat of His brow; He shed the last drop of His
Blood, and suffered pain and anguish in all His senses and all His members.
What mortal tongue can explain this ineffable mystery? Yet it is equally
impossible for me to speak or to be silent. Silence seems ingratitude, and to
speak seems rashness. Wherefore, I prostrate myself at Thy feet, O my God,
beseeching Thee to supply for my insufficiency, and if my feeble tongue
detract from Thy glory, while wishing to praise and magnify it, grant that
Thy elect in Heaven may render to Thy mercy the worship which Thy creatures
here below are incapable of offering Thee.
After God had created man and placed him in the
delights of the terrestrial paradise, by the very favors which should have
bound him to the service of his Creator he was emboldened to rebel against
Him. For this he was driven into exile and condemned to the eternal pains of
Hell. He had imitated the rebellion of Satan; therefore, it was just that he
should share his punishment.
When Giezi, the servant of Eliseus, received
presents from Naaman the leper, the prophet said to him: Since thou hast
received Naaman's money, "the leprosy of Naaman shall also cleave to
thee and to thy seed forever. And he went out from him a leper as white as
snow." (4Kg. 5:27). God pronounced a like sentence against man;
Adam wished to share the riches of Lucifer, that is, his pride and his
revolt, and, in consequence, the leprosy of Lucifer, that is, the punishment
of his revolt, became his portion also. By sin, therefore, man becomes like
Satan he imitates him in his guilt, and shares in his punishment.
Having brought such misery upon himself, man
became the object of the divine compassion, for God was more moved by the
condition of His fallen creature than He was indignant at the outrage offered
to His goodness. He resolved to restore man and reconcile him with Himself
through the mediation of His only Son. But how was reconciliation effected?
Again, what human tongue can express this mercy? Through our Mediator Christ
such a friendship was established between God and man that the Creator not
only pardoned His creature and restored him to His grace and love, but even
became one with him. Man has become so one with God that in all creation
there is no union that can be compared to this. It is not only a union of
grace and love, but it is a union of person also. Who could have thought that
such a breach would be so perfectly repaired? Who could have imagined that
two beings so widely separated by nature and sin should one day be united,
not only in the same house, at the same table, and in a union of grace, but
in one and the same person [that is, in Christ]?
Can we think of two beings more widely separated
than God and the sinner? Yet where will we find two beings more closely
united? "There is nothing," says St. Bernard, "more elevated
than God, and nothing more base than the clay of which man is formed. Yet God
has with such great humility clothed Himself in this clay, and the clay has
been so honorably raised to God, that we may ascribe to the clay all the
actions of God, and to God all the sufferings of the clay." (Super
Cant. Hom. 59 et 64).
When man stood naked and trembling before his
Creator, who could have made him believe that one day his unhappy nature
would be united to God in one and the same person? This union was so close
that even the supreme moment of the cross could not sever it. Death dissolved
the union between soul and body, but could not separate the divinity from the
humanity, for what Christ had once taken upon Himself for love of us He never
abandoned.
Thus was our peace established. Thus did God apply
to us the remedy for our sovereign miseries. And we owe Him more gratitude,
perhaps, for the manner of applying this remedy than for the remedy itself.
Yes, Lord, I am infinitely indebted to Thee for redeeming me from Hell, for
reestablishing me in Thy grace, and fox restoring my liberty; but I should be
still more grateful, were it possible, for the manner in which Thou hast
wrought these wonders. All Thy works are admirable, O Lord! And when lost in
wonder at a power that seems to have reached its limit, we have only to raise
our eyes to behold still another marvel which eclipses all the rest. Nor is
this any disparagement of Thy power, O Lord, but rather a manifestation of
Thy glory!
But what, O Lord, is the remedy Thou didst choose
for my deep misery? Innumerable were the ways in which Thou couldst have
redeemed me without toil or suffering; but in Thy magnificence, and to
testify to Thy great love for me, Thou didst will to endure such pain and
sufferings that the very thought of them bathed Thee in a sweat of blood, and
at the sight of them the rocks were rent asunder. May the heavens praise
Thee, O Lord, and may the angels proclaim Thy mercies! What did our virtues
avail Thee, or how wast Thou harmed by our sins? "If thou sin,"
says Eliu to Job, "what shalt thou hurt him! And if thy iniquities be
multiplied, what shalt thou do against him? And if thou do justly, what shalt
thou give him, or what shall he receive of thy hand?" (Job
35:6-7).
This great God, so rich and powerful, so free from
all evils, whose wisdom and possessions can neither be increased nor
lessened, who would be equally glorious in Himself whether men and angels
praised Him forever in Heaven, or blasphemed Him forever in Hell; this great
God, impelled by no necessity, but yielding to His love, came down from
Heaven to this place of exile, clothed Himself with our nature when we were
His enemies, took upon Himself our infirmities, and even death, and to heal
our wounds endured torments more terrible than any that had ever before been
borne, or that ever again will be undergone.
It was for me, O Lord, that Thou wast born in a
stable, laid in a manger, and circumcised on the eighth day after Thy birth!
For me wast Thou driven from Thy country and exiled to Egypt. For my sake
Thou didst fast and watch, shedding bitter tears, and sweating Blood from
every pore. For me Thou wast seized as a malefactor, forsaken, sold, denied,
betrayed, dragged from tribunal to tribunal, buffeted, spat upon, bruised
with blows, and delivered to the gibes of an infamous rabble. For me Thou
didst die upon a cross, in the sight of Thy most holy Mother, enduring
poverty so great that even the consolation of a drop of water was denied to
Thy burning lips. Thou wert abandoned by the world, and so great was Thy
desolation that even Thy Father seemed to have forsaken Thee. At such a cost,
O God, didst Thou restore to me my life!
Can we, without the deepest grief, behold this
spectacle God hanging as a malefactor upon an infamous gibbet? We could not
withhold our compassion from a criminal who had brought such misfortune upon
himself; and if our compassion be greater when the victim is innocent, and
his excellence known to us, what must have been the astonishment and grief of
the angels, with their knowledge of His perfection, when they saw Him
overwhelmed with ignominy and condemned to die upon the cross?
The two cherubim, placed by God's command (Ex.
25:18) on each side of the ark, looking toward the mercy-seat in wonder and
admiration, are an emblem of the awe with which the heavenly spirits were
seized at the sight of God's supreme mercy in becoming the propitiation for
the world on the sacred wood of His cross.
Who, then, can contain his astonishment or forbear
to exclaim with Moses: "O Lord God, merciful and gracious, patient and
of much compassion, and true!" (Ex. 34:6). Who would not, like
Elias (3Kg. 19:13), cover his eyes did he see God passing, not in the
splendor of His majesty, but in the depths of His humiliation; not in the
might of His power, moving mountains and rending rocks, but as a malefactor,
delivered to the cruelties of a brutal multitude? While, then, we confess our
inability to understand this incomprehensible mystery, will we not open our
hearts to the sweet influence of such boundless love, and make, as far as we
are able, a corresponding return? Oh! Abyss of charity! Oh! Boundless mercy!
Oh! Incomprehensible goodness! By Thy ignominy, O Lord, Thou hast purchased
honor for me. By Thy Blood Thou hast washed away the stains of my sins. By
Thy death Thou hast given me life. By Thy tears Thou has delivered me from
eternal weeping. O best of Fathers! How tenderly Thou loved Thy children. O
good Shepherd, who hast given Thyself as food to Thy flock! O faithful
Guardian, who didst lay down Thy life for the creatures of Thy care! With
what tears can I return Thy tears? With what life can I repay Thy life? What
are the tears of a creature compared to the tears of his Creator, or what is
the life of a man compared to that of his God?
Think not, O man, that thy debt is less because
God suffered for all men as well as for thee. Each of His creatures was as
present to His divine mind as if He died for him alone. His charity was so
great, the holy Doctors tell us, that had but one man sinned He would have
suffered to redeem him. Consider, therefore, what thou owest a Master who has
done so much for thee and who would have done still more had thy welfare
required it.
Tell me, O ye creatures, whether a greater
benefit, a more generous favor, a more binding obligation can be conceived.
Tell me, O ye celestial choirs, whether God has done for you what He has done
for us? Who, then, will refuse to give himself without reserve to the service
of such a Master? "I thrice owe Thee all that I am, O my God!"
exclaims St. Anselm. "By my creation I owe Thee all that I am. Thou hast
confirmed this debt by redeeming me; and by promising to be my eternal
reward, Thou dost compel me to give myself wholly to Thee. Why, then, do I
not give myself to One who has such a just claim to my service? Oh! Insupportable
ingratitude! Oh! Invincible hardness of the human heart, which will not be
softened by such benefits! Metals yield to fire; iron is made flexible in the
forge; and diamonds are softened by the blood of certain animals. But oh!
Heart more insensible than stone, harder than iron, more adamant than the
diamond, wilt thou not be moved by the fire of Hell, or by the benefits of
the tenderest of Fathers, or by the Blood of the spotless Lamb immolated for
love of thee?"
Since Thy mercy and Thy love have been so
powerfully manifested for us, O Lord, how is it that there are men who do not
love Thee, who forget Thy benefits or use them to offend Thee? To whom will
they give their love, if they refuse it to Thee? What can touch them, if they
are insensible to Thy benefits? Ah! How can I refuse to serve a God who has
so lovingly sought me and redeemed me? "And I," says Our Saviour,
"if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself."
(Jn. 12:32). With what strength, Lord, with what chains? With the
strength of My love, with the chains of My benefits, "I will draw
them," says the Lord by His prophet, "with the cords of Adam, with
the bands of love." (Osee 11:4). Ah! Who will resist these
chains, who will refuse to yield to these mercies? If, then, it be so great a
crime not to love this sovereign Lord, what must it be to offend Him, to
break His commandments? How can you use your hands to offend Him whose hands
are so full of benefits for you, whose hands were nailed to the cross for
you?
When the unhappy wife of the Egyptian minister
sought to lead Joseph into sin, the virtuous youth replied, "Behold, my
master hath delivered all things to me, and knoweth not what he hath in his
own house: Neither is there anything which is not in my power, or that he
hath not delivered to me, but thee, who art his wife: how then can I do this
wicked thing, and sin against my God?" (Gen. 39:8-9). Mark the
words of Joseph. He does not say: "I should not " or "It is
not just that I offend Him," but "How can I do this wicked
thing?" From this let us learn that great favors should not only deprive
us of the will, but, in a measure, even of the power, to offend our
benefactor.
If, therefore, the son of Jacob felt such
gratitude for perishable benefits, what should be ours for the immortal
blessings God has bestowed upon us? Joseph's master entrusted him with all
his possessions. God has given us not only His possessions but Himself. What
is there on earth that He has not made for us? Earth, sky, sun, moon, stars,
tides, birds, beasts, fishes in short, all things under Heaven are ours,
and even the riches of Heaven itself, the glory and happiness of eternity.
"All things are yours," says the Apostle, "whether it be Paul,
or Apollo, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, or things present, or
things to come; for all are yours" (1Cor. 3:22), for all these
contribute to your salvation.
And we not only possess the riches of Heaven, but
the Lord of Heaven. He has given Himself to us in a thousand ways: as our
Father, our Teacher, our Saviour, our Master, our Physician, our Example, our
Food, our Reward. In brief, the Father has given us the Son, and the Son has
made us worthy to receive the Holy Ghost, and the Holy Ghost has united us to
the Father and the Son, the Source of every grace and blessing.
Again, since God has given you all the benefits
you enjoy, how can you use these benefits to outrage so magnificent a
Benefactor? If you are unmindful of the crime of your ingratitude, you are more
ungrateful than the savage beasts, colder and more hardened than senseless
objects. St. Ambrose, after Pliny, relates the story of a dog that had
witnessed the murder of his master. All night the faithful animal remained by
the body, howling most piteously, and on the following day, when a concourse
of people visited the scene, the dog noticed the murderer among them, and
falling upon him with rage, thus led to the discovery of his crime. If poor
animals testify so much love and fidelity for a morsel of bread, will you
return offences for divine benefits? If a dog will manifest such indignation
against his master's murderer, how can you look with indifference on the
murderers of your sovereign Lord?
And who are these murderers? None other than your
sins. Yes, your sins apprehended Him and bound Him with ignominious fetters,
loaded Him with infamy, overwhelmed Him with outrages, bruised Him with
blows, and nailed Him to the cross. His executioners could never have
accomplished this without the fatal aid of your sins. Will you, then, feel no
hatred for the barbarous enemies who put your Saviour to death? Can you look
upon this Victim immolated for you, without feeling an increase of love for
Him? All that He did and suffered upon earth was intended to produce in our
hearts a horror and detestation of sin. His hands and feet were nailed to the
cross in order to bind sin.
Will you render all His sufferings and labors
fruitless to you? Will you remain in the slavery of sin when He purchased
your freedom at the price of His Blood? Will you not tremble at the name of
sin, which God has wrought such wonders to efface? What more could God have
done to turn men from sin than to place Himself nailed to the cross between
them and this terrible evil? What man would dare to offend God, were Heaven
and Hell open before him? Yet a God nailed to a cross is a still more
terrible and appalling sight. I know not what can move one who is insensible
to such a spectacle.
CHAPTER 5
The Fifth Motive which obliges us to
practice Virtue:
Gratitude for our Justification
What would the benefit of Redemption avail us, if
it had not been followed by that of justification, through which the
sovereign virtue of Redemption is applied to our souls? For as the most
excellent remedies avail us nothing if not applied to our disorders, so the
sovereign remedy of Redemption would be fruitless were it not applied to us
through the benefit of justification. This is the work of the Holy Ghost, to
whom the sanctification of man in a special manner belongs. It is He who
attracts the sinner by His mercy, who calls him, who leads him in the ways of
wisdom, who justifies him, who raises him to perfection, who imparts to him
the gift of perseverance, to which, in the end, He will add the crown of
everlasting glory. These are the different degrees of grace contained in the
inestimable benefit of justification.
The first of these graces is our [baptismal]
vocation. Man cannot throw off the yoke of sin; he cannot return from death
to life, nor from a child of wrath can he become a child of God, without the
assistance of divine grace. For Our Saviour has declared, "No man can
come to me except the Father, who hath sent me, draw him." (Jn.
6:44).
St. Thomas thus explains these words: "As a
stone, when other forces are removed, naturally falls to the ground, and
cannot rise again without the application of some extraneous power, so man,
corrupted by sin, ever tends downwards, attracted to earth by the love of
perishable possessions, and cannot, without the intervention of divine grace,
rise to heavenly things or a desire for supernatural perfection." This
truth merits our consideration and our tears, for it shows us the depth of
our misery, and the necessity, under which we labor, of incessantly imploring
the divine assistance.
But to return to our subject: Who can express all
the benefits brought to us by justification? It banishes from our souls sin,
the source of all evils. It reconciles us to God and restores us to His
friendship; for in truth the greatest evil which sin brings on us is that it
makes us the objects of God's hatred. God, being infinite goodness, must
sovereignly abhor all that is evil. "Thou hatest all the workers of
iniquity," exclaims His prophet; "Thou wilt destroy all that speak
a lie. The bloody and the deceitful man the Lord will abhor." (Ps.
5:7).
The enmity of God is evidently the greatest of
evils for us, since it cuts us off from the friendship of God, the source of
every blessing. From this misfortune justification delivers us, restoring us
to God's grace, and uniting us to Him by the most intimate love, that of a
father for a son. Hence the beloved disciple exclaims: "Behold what
manner of charity the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called,
and should be the sons of God." (1Jn. 3:1). The Apostle would
have us understand that we wear not only the name, but are in truth the sons
of God, in order that we may appreciate the liberality and magnificence of
God's mercy to us.
If God's enmity be such a terrible misfortune,
what an incomparable blessing His friendship must be! For it is an axiom in
philosophy that according as a thing is evil, so is its opposite good; hence
the opposite of that which is supremely evil must be supremely good. Now,
man's supreme evil is the enmity of God; therefore, his supreme good must be
the friendship of God. If men set such value upon the favor of their masters,
their fathers, their princes, their kings, how highly should they esteem
their sovereign Master, this most excellent Father, this King of kings,
compared to whom all power and riches and principalities are as if they were
not!
The benefit we are considering is largely enhanced
by the liberality with which it is bestowed. For as man before his creation
was unable to merit the gift of existence, so after his fall he could do
nothing to merit his justification. No act of his could satisfy the Creator,
in whose sight he was an object of hatred.
Another blessing flowing from justification is our
deliverance from the eternal pains of Hell. Having driven God from him by
sin, having despised His love, man in his turn is justly rejected by God.
Inordinate love for creatures led him away from the Creator, and, therefore,
it is but just that these same creatures should be the instruments of his
punishment. Therefore, he was condemned to the eternal pains of Hell,
compared to which the sufferings of this life are so light that they appear
more imaginary than real. Add to these torments the undying worm which
unceasingly gnaws the conscience of the sinner. What shall I say of his
society, demons of perversity and reprobate men? Consider also the confusion
and darkness of this terrible abode, where there is no rest, no joy, no
peace, no hope, but eternal rage and blasphemies, perpetual weeping and
ceaseless gnashing of teeth. Behold the torments from which God delivers
those whom He justifies.
Another benefit of justification, more spiritual
and therefore less apparent, is the regeneration of the interior man deformed
by sin. For sin deprives the soul not only of God but of all her supernatural
power, of the graces and gifts of the Holy Ghost, in which her beauty and
strength consist. A soul thus stripped of the riches of grace is weakened and
paralyzed in all her faculties. For man is essentially a rational creature,
but sin is an act contrary to reason. Hence, as opposites destroy each other,
it follows that the greater and the more numerous our sins are, the greater
must be the ruin of the faculties of the soul, not in themselves, but in
their power of doing good.
Thus sin renders the soul miserable, weak and
torpid, inconstant in good, cowardly in resisting temptation, slothful in the
observance of God's commandments. It deprives her of true liberty and of that
sovereignty which she should never resign; it makes her a slave to the world,
the flesh, and the devil; it subjects her to a harder and more wretched
servitude than that of the unhappy Israelites in Egypt or Babylon. Sin so
dulls and stupefies the spiritual senses of man that he is deaf to God's voice
and inspirations; blind to the dreadful calamities which threaten him;
insensible to the sweet odor of virtue and the example of the saints;
incapable of tasting how sweet the Lord is, or feeling the touch of His
benign hand in the benefits which should be a constant incitement to his
greater love. Moreover, sin destroys the peace and joy of a good conscience,
takes away the soul's fervor, and leaves her an object abominable in the eyes
of God and His saints.
The grace of justification delivers us from all these
miseries. For God, in His infinite mercy, is not content with effacing our
sins and restoring us to His favor; He delivers us from the evils sin has
brought upon us, and renews the interior man in his former strength and
beauty. Thus He heals our wounds, breaks our bonds, moderates the violence of
our passions, restores with true liberty the supernatural beauty of the soul,
re-establishes us in the; peace and joy of a good conscience, reanimates our
interior ; senses, inspires us with ardor for good and a salutary hatred of
sin, makes us strong and constant in resisting evil, and thus enriches us
with an abundance of good works. In fine, He so perfectly renews the inner
man with all his faculties that the Apostle calls those who are thus
justified new men and new creatures. (Cf. 2Cor. 4:16 and Gal.
6:15).
This renewal of the inner man is so powerful, so
true, that in Baptism it is called regeneration, in Penance, resurrection;
not only because it restores the soul from the death of sin to the life of grace,
but because it is an anticipation of the last glorious resurrection. No
tongue can express the beauty of a justified soul; only the Holy Spirit, who
is pleased to dwell therein, can tell the sweetness, loveliness, and strength
with which He has enriched her. The beauty, the power, the riches of earth
fade into insignificance before the unspeakable beauty of a soul in a state
of grace. As far as Heaven is above earth, as far as mind is above matter, so
far does the life of grace exceed that of nature, so far does the invisible
beauty of a soul exceed the visible beauty of this world. God Himself is
enamored with this divine beauty. He adorns such a soul with infused virtues
and the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, imparting, at the same time, renewed
strength and splendor to all her powers.
Moreover, God, in His boundless liberality, sends
us the Holy Ghost Himself, whilst the three Divine Persons take up their
abode in a soul thus prepared, in order to teach her to make a noble use of
the riches with which she is endowed. Like a good father, God not only leaves
His inheritance to His children, but also sends them a prudent guardian to
administer it. This guardian is no other than God Himself, for, as Christ has
declared, "If any one love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will
love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him." (John
14:23).
From these words the Doctors of the Church and
between the Holy Spirit and His gifts, they declare that the soul not only enjoys
these gifts, but also the real presence of their Divine Author. Entering such
a soul, God transforms her into a magnificent temple. He Himself purifies,
sanctifies, and adorns her, making her a fitting habitation for her Supreme
Guest. Contrast this glorious state with the miserable condition of a soul in
sin, the abode of evil spirits and of every abomination. (Cf. Matt.
12:45).
Still another more marvelous benefit of
justification is that it transforms the soul into a living member of Christ.
This, again, is the source of new graces and privileges, for the Son of God,
loving and cherishing us as His own members, infuses into us that virtue
which is His life, and, as our Head, continually guides and directs us. How
tenderly, too, does the Heavenly Father look upon such souls, as members of
His Divine Son, united to Him by the participation of the same Holy Spirit!
Their works, therefore, are pleasing to Him, and meritorious in His sight,
since it is Jesus Christ, His only Son, who lives and acts in them. Hence,
with what confidence they address God in prayer, because it is not so much
for themselves as for His Divine Son that they pray, since to Him all the
honor of their lives redounds. For as the members of the body can receive no
benefit of which the Head does not partake, so neither can Christ, the Head
of all the just, be separated from their virtues or merits. If it be true, as
the Apostle tells us (Cf. 1Cor. 6:15), that they who sin against the
members of Jesus Christ sin against Jesus Christ Himself, and that He regards
a persecution directed against His members as directed against Himself (Cf. Acts.
9:4), is it astonishing that He regards the honor paid to His members as paid
to Himself?
Pray, then, with confidence, remembering that your
petitions ascend to the Eternal Father in the name of His Son, who is your
Head. For His sake they will be heard, and will redound to His honor; for, as
is generally admitted, when we ask a favor for the sake of another, it is
granted not so much to the one who receives it, as to the one for whose sake
it was asked. For this reason we are said to serve God when we serve the poor
for His sake.
The final benefit of justification is the right
which it gives to eternal life. God is infinitely merciful as well as
infinitely just, and while He condemns impenitent sinners to eternal misery,
He rewards the truly repentant with eternal happiness. God could have
pardoned men and restored them to His favor without raising them to a share
in His glory, yet in the excess of His mercy He adopts those whom He pardons,
justifies those whom He has adopted, and makes them partakers of the riches
and inheritance of His only-begotten Son. It is the hope of this incomparable
inheritance which sustains and comforts the just in all their tribulations;
for they feel even in the midst of the most cruel adversity that "that
which is at present momentary and light of our tribulation, worketh for us
above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory." (2Cor.
4:17).
These are the graces comprehended in the
inestimable benefit of justification, which St. Augustine justly ranks above
that of creation. (Super. Joan 72,9). For God created the world by a
single act of His will, but to redeem it He shed the last drop of His Blood
and expired under the most grievous torments. St. Thomas gives a like opinion
in his Summa Theologica.
Though it is true that no man can be certain of
his justification, yet there are signs by which we can form a favorable
judgment. The principal of these is a change of life; as, for example, when a
man who hitherto committed innumerable mortal sins without scruple would not
now be guilty of a single grave offence against God even to gain the whole
world.
Let him, then, who has attained these happy
dispositions reflect upon what he owes the Author of his justification, who
has delivered him from the multitude of evils which are the consequences of
sin, and overwhelmed him with the benefits which we have attempted to
explain. And as for him who has the misfortune to be still in a state of sin,
I know nothing more efficacious to rouse him from his miserable condition
than the consideration of the evils which sin brings in its train, and of the
blessings which flow from the incomparable benefit of justification.
The effects produced in the soul by the Holy Ghost
do not end here. This Divine Spirit, not content with causing us to enter the
path of justice, maintains us therein, strengthening us against all obstacles
until we arrive at the haven of salvation. His love will not permit Him to
remain idle in a soul which He honors by His presence. He sanctifies her with
His virtue, and effects in her and by her all that is necessary to win
eternal life. He dwells in the soul as the father in the midst of a family,
preserving order and peace by his prudent authority; as a master in the midst
of his disciples, teaching lessons of Divine wisdom; as a gardener in a
garden confided to his intelligent care; as a king in his kingdom, ruling and
directing all; as the sun in the midst of the universe, enlightening and
vivifying her, and directing all her movements.
Possessing, in an eminent degree, all the good
that is in creatures, He produces, but in a far more perfect manner, all the
effects of which these creatures are capable. As fire He vivifies our
understanding, enkindles our will, and detaches us from earth to raise us to
heavenly things; as a dove He renders us sweet, gentle, and compassionate to
one another; as a cloud He shelters us from the burning sensuality of the
flesh, and tempers the heat of our passions; as a violent wind He impels our
wills to good and sweeps all evil affections from our hearts. Hence it is
that just souls abhor the vices which they formerly loved, and embrace the
virtues from which they formerly shrank. Witness David, who cries out,
"I have hated and abhorred iniquity." "I have rejoiced in the
way of thy testimonies as much as in all riches." (Ps.
118:104,14).
It is to the Holy Ghost that we are indebted for
all our progress in virtue. It is He who preserves us from evil and maintains
us in good. It is He who is the principle of our perseverance, and who
finally crowns us in Heaven. This it was which led St. Augustine to say that
in rewarding our merits God but crowns His own gifts. (Conf. 1,20).
The holy patriarch Joseph, not content with giving
to his brethren the corn which they came to purchase, ordered also that the
money which they paid for it should be secretly returned to them. God treats
His elect with still greater liberality. He not only gives them eternal life,
but furnishes them the grace and virtue to attain it. "We adore
Him," says Eusebius Emissenus, "that He may be merciful to us, but
He has already been merciful to us in giving us grace to adore Him."
Let each one, then, glance over his life and
consider, as the same holy Doctor suggests, all the good he has been
permitted to do, and all the sins of impurity, injustice, and sacrilege from
which he has been preserved, and he will comprehend in some measure what he
owes to God. On this point St. Augustine well observes that God shows no less
mercy in preserving man from sin than in pardoning him after he has fallen. (Conf.
2,7). Indeed, it is a greater proof of love. Therefore, the same saint,
writing to a virgin, says: "Man should consider that God has pardoned
him all the sins from which He has preserved him. Think not, therefore, that
you may love this Master with a feeble love because He has pardoned you but a
few sins. Your debt of love, on the contrary, is greater for His preventing
grace which has saved you from committing many. For if a man must love a
creditor who forgives him a debt, how much more reason has he to love a
benefactor who gratuitously bestows upon him a like amount? For if a man live
chastely all his life, it is God who preserves him; if he be converted from
immorality to a pure life, it is God who reforms him; and if he continue in
his disorders till the end, it is also God who justly forsakes him."
What, then, should our conclusion be but to unite
our voices with the prophet, saying, "Let my mouth be filled with
praise, that I may sing thy glory, thy greatness all the day long." (Ps.
70:8). St. Augustine, commenting upon these words of the prophet, asks,
"What means all the day long"? And he answers, "Under
all circumstances and without interruption. Yes, Lord, I will praise Thee in
prosperity because Thou dost comfort me, and in adversity because Thou dost
chastise me. For my whole being I will praise Thee, because Thou art its
Author. In my repentance I will praise Thee, because Thou dost pardon me. In
my perseverance I will praise Thee, because Thou wilt crown me. Thus, O Lord,
my mouth will be filled with Thy praise, and I will sing Thy glory all the
day long !"
It would be fitting to speak here of the
Sacraments, the instruments of justification, particularly of Baptism, and
the divine light and principle of faith which it imprints on our souls. But
as this subject has been more fully treated in another work, we will confine
ourselves, for the present, to the Eucharist, that Sacrament of sacraments,
which gives to us as our daily food and sovereign remedy God Himself. He
was offered once for us on the cross, but He is daily offered for us on the
altar. "This is my body," Christ has declared; "do this for a
commemoration of me." (Lk. 22:19).
Oh! Sacred Pledge of our salvation! Oh!
Incomparable Sacrifice! Oh! Victim of love! Oh! Bread of life! Oh! Sweet and
delicious Banquet! Oh! Food of kings! Oh! Manna containing all sweetness and
delight! Who can fittingly praise Thee? Who can worthily receive Thee? Who
can love and venerate Thee as Thou dost deserve? My soul faints at the
thought of Thee; my lips are mute in Thy presence, for I cannot extol Thy
marvels as I desire.
Had Our Lord reserved this favor for the pure and
innocent, it would still be a mercy beyond our comprehension. But in His
boundless love He does not refuse to descend into depraved hearts, nor to
pass through the hands of unworthy ministers who are the slaves of Satan and
the victims of their unruly passion. To reach the hearts of His friends and
to bring them His divine consolations, He submits to innumerable outrages and
profanations. He was sold once in His mortal life, but in this august
Sacrament He is unceasingly betrayed. The scorn and ignominy of His Passion
afflicted Him only once, but in this sacred Banquet His love and goodness are
daily insulted and outraged. Once He was nailed to the cross between two
thieves, but in this Sacrament of love His enemies crucify Him a thousand
times.
What return, then, can we make to a Master who
seeks our good in so many ways? If servants obey and serve their masters for
a paltry support; if soldiers from a like motive brave fire and sword, what
do we not owe God, who maintains us with this heavenly Food? If God in the
Old Law exacted so much gratitude from the Israelites for the manna, which,
with all its excellence, was only corruptible food, what gratitude will He
not expect for this Divine Nourishment, incorruptible in Itself, and
conferring the same blessing on all who worthily receive It? If we owe Him so
much for the food which preserves our bodily life, what return must we not
make Him for the Food which preserves in us the life of grace? And, finally,
if our debt of gratitude be so great for being made children of Adam, what do
we owe Him for making us children of God? For it cannot be denied, as
Eusebius Emissenus observes, that "the day we are born to eternity is
infinitely greater than the day which brings us forth to this world, with all
its suffering and dangers."
Here, then, dear Christian, is another motive
which should induce you to serve God, another link in that chain which bind
you irrevocably to your Creator.
CHAPTER 6
The Sixth Motive which obliges us to
practice Virtue:
Gratitude for the Incomprehensible Benefit
of Election
To all the benefits which we have just enumerated
we must add that of election, or predestination, which belongs to those whom
God has chosen from all eternity to be partakers of His glory. The Apostle,
in his Epistle to the Ephesians (Eph. 1:3-5), thus gives thanks, in
his own name and that of the elect, for this inestimable benefit:
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath
blessed us with spiritual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ; as he
chose us in him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy
and unspotted in his sight, in charity; who hath predestinated us unto the
adoption of children through Jesus Christ unto himself, according to the
purpose of his will." The Royal Prophet thus extols this same benefit:
"Blessed is he whom thou hast chosen and taken to thee: he shall dwell
in thy courts." (Ps. 64:5).
Election, therefore, may be justly called the
grace of graces, since God, in His boundless liberality, bestows it upon us
before we have merited it; for, while giving to each one what is necessary
for his salvation, He wills, as absolute Master of His gifts, to bestow them
in greater abundance upon certain souls, without any injury, however, to
others less favored. It is also the grace of graces not only because it is
the greatest, but because it is the source of all the others. For in
predestining man to glory, God determines to bestow upon him all the graces
necessary to attain this happiness. This He has declared by the mouth of His
prophet: "I have loved thee with an everlasting love, therefore have I
drawn thee, taking pity on thee." (Jer. 31:3). This truth is
still more clearly expressed by the Apostle: "For whom he foreknew, he
also predestinated to be made conformable to the image of his Son; that he
might be the firstborn amongst many brethren. And whom he predestinated, them
he also justified. And whom he justified, them he also glorified." (Rom.
8:29-30). A father who destines his son for a special career in life prepares
and educates him from his boyhood with a view to this career. In like manner,
when God has predestined a soul to eternal happiness, He directs her in the
path of justice, that she may attain the end for which He has chosen her.
All, therefore, who recognize in themselves any
mark of election should bless God for this great and eternal benefit. Though
it is a secret hidden from human eyes, yet there are certain signs of
election, as there are of justification; and as the first mark of our
justification is the conversion of our lives, so the surest mark of our
predestination is our perseverance in the good thus begun. He who has lived
for a number of years in the fear of God, carefully avoiding sin, may hope
that God, in the words of the Apostle, "will confirm him unto the end
without crime, in the day of the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." (1Cor.
1:8).
No man, however, can be certain of his
perseverance or election. Did not Solomon, the wisest of kings, after having
lived virtuously for many years, fall into iniquity in his old age? Yet his
example is one of the exceptions to the rule, which he himself teaches in
these words: "It is a proverb: A young man according to his way, even
when he is old he will not depart from it" (Prov. 22:6); so that
if his youth has been virtuous, his old age will likewise be honorable. From
these and similar indications to be found in the lives of the saints a man
may humbly hope that God has numbered him among the elect, that his name is
written in the Book of Life.
How great, then, should be our gratitude for such
a benefit! God Himself tells His Apostles, "Rejoice not in this, that
spirits are subject unto you; but rejoice in this, that your names are
written in heaven." (Lk. 10:20). What, in fact, can be a greater
happiness than to have been from all eternity the object of God's love and
choice; to have had a privileged place in His Heart throughout the eternal
years; to have been chosen as the child of His adoption before the birth of
His Son according to nature; and to have been always present to His Divine
Mind, clothed in the splendor of the saints!
Weigh all the circumstances of this election, and
you will find that each of them is an extraordinary favor, a new motive to
love and serve God. Consider first the greatness of Him who has chosen you.
It is God Himself, who, being infinitely rich and infinitely happy, had no
need of you or any other creature. Next represent to yourself the profound
unworthiness of the object of this election a miserable creature exposed to
all the infirmities of this life, and deserving by his sins the eternal
torments of the future. Reflect, too, how glorious is this election, by which
you are raised to the dignity of a child of God and heir to His kingdom.
Consider, further, how generously and gratuitously this favor is bestowed. It
preceded all merit on our part, and sprang solely from the good pleasure and
mercy of God, and according to the Apostle, turns "unto the praise of
the glory of his grace." (Eph. 1:6). Now, the more gratuitous a
favor is, the greater the obligation it imposes.
The origin and the antiquity of this election also
merit special consideration. It did not begin with this world; it preceded
the existence of the universe; it was coeval with the very existence of God. From
all eternity He loved His elect. They were ever present to Him, and His will
to render them eternally happy was as fixed at His own Being.
Observe, finally, what a singular benefit this is.
Among the many nations plunged in the darkness of paganism, among the many
souls condemned to perdition, you have been selected to share the happy lot
of the elect. Out of the mass of perdition He has raised you, and the leaven
of corruption and death He has changed into the bread of angels and the wheat
of the elect. The value of this benefit is still further increased when we
reflect how small is the number of the elect and how great is the number of
the lost. Solomon says that "the number of fools" that is, the
reprobate is infinite." (Eccles. 1:15).
But if none of these considerations moves you, be
touched at least by the sight of all that it has cost God to confer this
immortal benefit on you. He purchased it for you with the Life and Blood of
His only Son; for He resolved from all eternity to send Him into this world
to execute His loving and merciful decree. Who, then, would be so base as to
wait until the end of his life to love God, who has loved him from eternity?
"Forsake not an old friend," we are told in Scripture (Ecclus.
9:14), "for the new will not be like to him."
Who, then, will forsake this Friend whose love for
us had no beginning, and whose claim to our love is likewise from eternity?
Who will not give up all the goods of this world; who will not bear all the
evils of this world, to share in this blessed friendship? How great would be
our respect for the poorest beggar were we assured by divine revelation that
he was predestined to share God's glory! Would we not kiss the ground upon
which he trod? "O happy soul!" we would cry. "O enviable lot!
Is it possible that thou art surely to behold God in all the splendor of His
majesty? Art thou to rejoice with the angels forever? Will thy ears be
ravished with sweet music for all eternity? Art thou to gaze upon the radiant
beauty of Christ and His Blessed Mother? Oh! Happy day when thou wast born!
But happier still the day of thy death, which will introduce thee to eternal
life. Happy the bread thou eatest and the ground upon which thou dost tread!
Happier still the pains and insults thou endurest, for they open to thee the
way to eternal rest! For what clouds, what tribulations, can overcome the
power and joy of such a hope as thine?"
We would doubtless break out into such transports
as these did we behold and recognize a predestined soul. For if people run
out to see a prince, the heir to a great kingdom, as he passes through the
street, marveling at his good fortune, as the world esteems it, how much more
reason have we to marvel at the happy lot of one who, without any previous
merit on his part, has been elected from his birth, not to a temporal
kingdom, but to reign eternally in Heaven!
You may thus understand, dear Christian, the
gratitude the elect owe to God. And yet there is no one, provided he do what
is necessary for salvation, who may not consider himself of this happy
number. "Labor, therefore, the more," as St. Peter tells you,
"that by good works you may make sure your calling and election." (2Pet.
1:10). We should never lose sight, therefore, of our end, for God's grace is
never wanting to us, and we can do all things in Him who strengthens us.
CHAPTER 7
The Seventh Motive for practicing Virtue:
The Thought of Death, the First of the Four
Last Things
Any one of the motives we have just enumerated
should be sufficient to induce man to give himself wholly to the service of a
Master to whom he is bound by so many ties of gratitude. But as the
generality of men are more influenced by personal interest than by motives of
justice, we will here make known the inestimable advantages of virtue in this
life and the next.
We will first speak of the greatest among them:
the glory which is the reward of virtue, and the terrible punishment from
which it delivers us. These two are the principal oars which propel us in our
voyage to eternity. For this reason St. Francis and our holy Father St.
Dominic, both having been animated by the same spirit, commanded in their
rules the preachers of their orders to make vice and virtue, reward and
punishment, the only subjects of their sermons, in order to instruct men in
the precepts of the Christian life and to inspire them with courage to put
them into practice. Moreover, it is a common principle among philosophers
that reward and punishment are the most powerful motives for good with the
mass of mankind. Such, alas, is our misery, that we are not content with
virtue alone; it must be accompanied with the fear of punishment or the hope
of reward.
But as there is no reward or punishment so worthy
of our consideration as those that never end, we will treat of eternal glory
and eternal misery, together with death and judgment, which precede them.
These are the most powerful incentives to love virtue and hate vice, for we
are told in Scripture, "In all thy works remember thy last end, and thou
shalt never sin." (Ecclus. 7:40).
The first of these is death. Let us, then,
consider it, for it is a truth which of all others makes the most impression
upon us, from the fact that it is so undisputed and so frequently brought
before our minds. Especially do we realize this when we reflect on the
particular judgment which each one must undergo as soon as his soul is
separated from his body. The sentence then passed will be final; it will
endure for all eternity. Since, then, death is such a powerful motive to turn
us from sin, let us bring this terrible hour more vividly before us.
Bear in mind, therefore, that you are a man and a
Christian. As man, you must die; as a Christian, you must, immediately after
death, render an account of your life. The first truth is manifest in our
daily experience, and the second our faith will not permit us to doubt. No
one, whether king or pope, is exempt from this terrible law. A day will come
of which you will not see the night, or a night which for you, will have no
morning. A time will come, and you know not whether it be this present day or
tomorrow, when you who are now reading my words, in perfect health and in
full possession of all your faculties, will find yourself stretched upon a
bed of death, a lighted taper in your hand, awaiting the sentence pronounced
against mankind a sentence which admits neither delay nor appeal.
Consider, also, how uncertain is the hour of
death. It generally comes when man is most forgetful of eternal things,
overturning his plans for an earthly future, and opening before him the
appalling vision of eternity. Therefore, the Holy Scriptures tell us that it
comes as a thief in the night; that is, when men are plunged in sleep and
least apprehensive of danger. The forerunner of death is usually a grave
illness with its attendant weariness, sufferings, and pains, which weaken the
powers of the body and give entrance to the king of terrors. Just as an enemy
who wishes to take a citadel destroys the outer fortifications, so death with
its vanguard of sickness breaks down the strength of the body, and, as it is
about to fall before the repeated assaults of its enemy, the soul, no longer
able to resist, takes its flight from the ruins.
Who can express the anguish of the moment when the
severity of the sickness, or the declaration of the physician, undeceives us
and robs us of all hope of life? The parting from all we hold dear then
begins to rise before us. Wife, children, friends, relations, honors, riches
are fast passing, with life, from our feeble grasp. Then follow the terrible
symptoms which precede the awful hour. The coldness of death seizes our
members; the countenance becomes deathly pale; the tongue refuses to perform
its duty; all the senses, in fine, are in confusion and disorder in the
precipitation of this supreme departure.
Strange resemblance between the beginning and the
end of our pilgrimage! The mystery of suffering seems to unite them both. The
terrified soul then beholds the approach of that agony which is to terminate
its temporal existence. Before the distracted mind rise the horror and
darkness of the grave, where the pampered body will become the prey of worms.
But keener still is the suffering which the soul endures from the suspense
and uncertainty of what her fate will be when she leaves her earthly habitation.
You will imagine that you are in the presence of your Sovereign Judge, and
that your sins rise up against you to accuse you and complete your
condemnation. The heinousness of the evil you committed with so much
indifference will then be manifest to you. You will curse a thousand times
the day you sinned, and the shameful pleasure which was the cause of your
ruin. You will be an object of astonishment and wonder to yourself. "How
could I," you will ask, "for love of the foolish things upon which I
set my heart, brave the torments which I now behold?" The guilty
pleasures will have long since passed away, but their terrible and
irrevocable punishment will continue to stare you in the face. Side by side
with this appalling eternity of misery you will see the unspeakable and
everlasting happiness which you have sacrificed for vanities, transitory and
sinful pleasures.
Everything you will behold will be calculated to
fill you with terror and remorse. Life will have been spent; there will be no
time for repentance. Nor will the friends you have loved or the idols you
have adored be able to help you. On the contrary, that which you have loved
during life will be the cause of your most poignant anguish at the hour of
death. What, then, will be your thoughts at this supreme hour? To whom will
you have recourse? Whither will you turn? To go forward will be anguish. To
go back impossible. To continue as you are will not be permitted.
"It shall come to pass in that day, saith the
Lord God , that the sun shall go down at midday, and I will make the earth
dark in the daylight." (Amos. 8:9). Terrible words! Yes, the sun
shall go down at midday; for the sinner at the sight of his sins, and at the
approach of God's justice, already believes himself abandoned by the Divine
Mercy; and though life still remains, with its opportunities for penance and
reconciliation, yet fear too often drives hope from the heart, and in this
miserable state he breathes his last sigh in the darkness of despair.
Most powerful is this passion of fear. It
magnifies trifles and makes remote evils appear as if present. Now, since
this is true of a slight apprehension, what will be the effect of the terror
inspired by a danger so great and imminent? The sinner, though still in life
and surrounded by his friends, imagines himself already a prey to the
torments of the reprobate. His soul is rent at the sight of the possessions
he must leave, while he increases his misery by envying the lot of those from
whom he is about to be separated. Yes, the sun sets for him at midday, for,
turn his eyes where he will, all is darkness. No ray of light or hope
illumines his horizon. If he thinks of God's mercy, he feels that he has no
claim upon it. If he thinks of God's justice, it is only to tremble for its
execution. He feels that his day is past and that God's time has come. If he
looks back upon his life, a thousand accusing voices sound in his ears. If he
turns to the present, he finds himself stretched upon a bed of death. If he
looks to the future, he there beholds his Supreme Judge prepared to condemn
him. How can he free himself from so many miseries and terrors?
If, then, the circumstances which precede our
departure are so terrible, what will be those which follow? If such be the
vigil of this great day, what will be the day itself? Man's eyes are no
sooner closed in death than he appears before the judgment seat of God to
render an account of every thought, every word, every action of his life.
If you would learn the severity and rigor of this
judgment, ask not men who live according to the spirit of this world, for,
like the Egyptians of old, they are plunged in darkness and are the sport of
the most fatal errors. Seek, rather, those who are enlightened by the true
Sun of Justice. Ask the saints, and they will tell you, more by their actions
than by their words, how terrible is the account we are to render to God.
David was a just man, yet his prayer was; "Enter not, O Lord, into
judgment with thy servant, for in thy sight no man living shall be justified."
(Ps. 142:2).
Arsenius was also a great saint, and yet at his
death he was seized with such terror at the thought of God's judgment that
his disciples, who knew the sanctity of his life, were much astonished, and
said to him, "Father, why should you now fear?" To this he replied,
"My children, this is no new fear which is upon me. It is one that I
have known and felt during my whole life." It is said that St. Agatho at
the hour of death experienced like terror, and having been asked why he, who
had led such a perfect life, should fear, he simply answered, "The
judgments of God are different from the judgments of men."
St. John Climachus gives a not less striking
example of a holy monk, which is so remarkable that I shall give it as nearly
as possible in the saint's own words: "A religious named Stephen, who
lived in the same desert with us, had a great desire to embrace a more
solitary life. He had already acquired a reputation for sanctity, having been
favored with the gift of tears and fasting and other privileges attached to
the most eminent virtues. Having obtained his superior's permission, he built
a cell at the foot of Mount Horeb, where Elias was honored by his marvelous
vision of God. Though his life here was one of great sanctity, yet, impelled
by desire for still harder labors and greater perfection, he withdrew to a
place called Siden, inhabited by holy anchorites who lived in the most
complete solitude. Here he continued for some years in the practice of the
severest penance, cut off from all human intercourse or comfort, for his
hermitage was seventy miles from any human habitation. As his life approached
its term he felt a desire to return to his first cell at the foot of Mount
Horeb, where dwelt two disciples, natives of Palestine. Shortly after his
arrival he was attacked by a fatal illness. The day before his death he fell
into a state resembling ecstasy. He gazed first at one side of his bed, then
at the other, and, as if engaged in conversation with invisible beings who
were demanding an account of his life, was heard crying out in a loud voice.
Sometimes he would say, 'It is true, I confess it; but I have fasted many
years in expiation of that sin'; or, 'It is false; that offence cannot be
laid to my charge'; or again, 'Yes, but I have labored for the good of my
neighbor so many years in atonement thereof.' To other accusations he was
heard to say, 'Alas! I cannot deny it; I can only cast myself upon God's
mercy.'
"Surely this was a thrilling spectacle,"
continues the saint. "I cannot describe the terror with which we
assisted at this invisible judgment. O my God! What will be my fate, if this
faithful servant, whose life was one long penance, knew not how to answer
some of the accusations brought against him? If after forty years of retirement
and solitude, if after having received the gift of tears, and such command
over nature that, as I am credibly informed, he fed with his own hand a wild
leopard which visited him, the saintly monk so trembled for judgment, and,
dying, left us in uncertainty as to his fate, what have we not to fear who
lead careless and indifferent lives?"
If you ask me the cause of this terror with which
the saints are filled, I will let St. Gregory answer for me: "Men
aspiring to perfection," says the holy Doctor, "constantly reflect
upon the justice of the Sovereign Judge who is to pronounce sentence upon
them in the dread hour which terminates their earthly career. They
unceasingly examine themselves upon the account they are to render before
this supreme tribunal. And if happily they find themselves innocent of sinful
actions, they still ask with fear whether they are equally free from the
guilt of sinful thoughts. For if it be comparatively easy to resist sinful
actions, it is more difficult to conquer in the war which we must wage
against evil thoughts. And though the fear of God's judgment is always before
them, yet it is redoubled at the hour of death, when they are about to appear
before His inflexible tribunal. At this moment the mind is freed from the
disturbances of the flesh; earthly desires and delusive dreams fade from the
imagination; the things of this world vanish at the portals of another life;
and the dying man sees but God and himself. If he recalls no good which he
has omitted, yet he feels that he cannot trust himself to give a correct and
impartial judgment. Hence his fear and terror of the rigorous account to be
exacted of him." (Moral., 24:16, 17).
Do not these words of the great Doctor prove that
this last hour and this supreme tribunal are more to be dreaded than worldly
men imagine? If just men tremble at this hour, what must be the terror of
those who make no preparation for it, whose lives are spent in the pursuit of
vanities and in contempt of God's commandments? If the cedar of Lebanon be thus
shaken, how can the reed of the wilderness stand? "And," as St.
Peter tells us, "if the just man shall scarcely be saved, where shall
the ungodly and the sinner appear?" (1Pet. 4:18).
Reflect, then, on the sentiments that will be
yours when you will stand before the tribunal of God, with no defenders but
your good works, with no companion but your own conscience. And if then you
will not be able to satisfy your Judge, who will give expression to the
bitterness of your anguish? For the question at issue is not a fleeting
temporal life, but an eternity of happiness or an eternity of misery. Whither
will you turn? What protection will you seek? Your tears will be powerless to
soften your Judge; the time for repentance will be past. Little will honors,
dignities, and wealth avail you, for "Riches," says the Wise Man,
"shall not profit in the day of vengeance, but justice shall deliver a
man from death." (Prov. 11:4).
The unhappy soul can only exclaim with the
prophet, "The sorrows of death have encompassed me, and the perils of
hell have found me." (Ps. 114:3). Unhappy wretch! How swiftly
this hour has come upon me! What does it now avail me that I had friends, or
honors, or dignities or wealth? All that I can now claim is a few feet of
earth and a windings-sheet. My wealth which I hoarded I must leave to be
squandered by others, while the sins of injustice which I here committed will
pursue me into the next world and there condemn me to eternal torments. Of
all my guilty pleasures the sting of remorse alone remains. Why have I made
no preparation for this hour? Why was I deaf to the salutary warnings I
received? "Why have I hated instruction, and my heart consented not to
reproofs, and have not heard the voice of them that taught me, and have not
inclined my ear to my masters?" (Prov. 5:12-13).
To preserve you, my dear Christian, from these
vain regrets, I beg you to gather from what has been said three
considerations, and to keep them continually before your mind. The first is
the terrible remorse which your sins will awaken in you at the hour of death;
the second is how ardently, though how vainly, you will wish that you had
faithfully served God during life; and the third is how willingly you would
accept the most rigorous penance, were you given time for repentance.
Acting on this advice, you will now begin to
regulate your life according as you will then wish to have done.
CHAPTER 8
The Eighth Motive for practicing Virtue:
The Thought of the Last Judgment, the
Second of the Four Last Things
Immediately after death follows the particular
judgment, of which we have been treating. But there is a day of general
judgment, when, in the words of the Apostle, "We must all be manifested
before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the proper things
of the body, according as he hath done, whether it be good or evil." (2Cor.
5:10).
In considering this subject, what strikes us as
most amazing, and what filled the holy soul of Job with awe, is that a frail
creature like man, so prone to evil, should be subjected to such a rigorous
judgment on the part of God, by whose command his every thought, word, and
action are inscribed in the book of life. In his astonishment Job cries out,
"Why hidest thou thy face, and thinkest me thy enemy? Against a leaf, that
is carried away with the wind, thou showest thy power, and thou pursuest a
dry straw. For thou writest bitter things against me, and wilt consume me for
the sins of my youth. Thou hast put my feet in the stocks, and hast observed
all my paths, and hast considered the steps of my feet: who I am to be
consumed as rottenness, and as a garment that is moth-eaten." (Job
13:24-28).
And returning to the same subject, he continues,
"Man born of a woman, living for a short time, is filled with many
miseries; who cometh forth like a flower and is destroyed, and fleeth as a
shadow, and never continueth in the same state. And dost thou think it meet
to open thy eyes upon such a one, and to bring him into judgment with thee?
Who can make him clean that is born of unclean seed? Is it not thou who only
art?" (Job 14:1-4).
Thus does holy Job express his astonishment at the
severity of the Divine Justice towards frail man, so inclined to evil, who
drinks up iniquity like water. That He should have exercised such severity towards
the angels, who are spiritual and perfect beings, is not a matter of so much
surprise. But it is truly amazing that not an idle word, not a wasted moment
in man's life shall escape the rigor of God's justice. "But I say unto
you that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall render an account
of it in the day of judgment." (Matt. 12:36). If we must render
an account of idle words which harm no one, how severe will be the account
exacted of us for impure words, immodest actions, sinful glances,
bloodstained hands, for all the time spent in sinful deeds? We could hardly
credit the severity of this judgment, did not God Himself affirm it. Oh!
Sublime religion, how great are the purity and perfection thou teachest!
What shame, then, and what confusion will
overwhelm the sinner when all his impurities, all his excesses, all his
iniquities, hidden in the secret recesses of his heart, will be exposed, in
all their enormity, to the eyes of the world! Whose conscience is so clear
that he does not blush, does not tremble, at this thought? If men find it so
difficult to make known their sins in the secrecy of confession, if many
prefer to groan under the weight of their iniquities rather than declare them
to God's minister, how will they bear to see them revealed before the
universe? In their shame and confusion "they shall say to the mountains:
Cover us; and to the hills: Fall upon us." (Osee 10:8).
Consider also the terror of the sinner when this
terrible sentence resounds in his ear: "Depart from me, ye cursed, into
everlasting fire which was prepared for the devil and his angels." (Matt.
25:4). How will the reprobate hear these terrible words? "Seeing,"
says holy Job, "that we have heard scarce a little drop of his word, who
shall be able to behold the thunder of his greatness?" (Job
26:14). When this dread sentence will have gone forth, the earth will open
and swallow in its fiery depths all those whose lives have been spent in the
pursuit of sinful pleasures.
St. John, in the Apocalypse, thus describes this
awful moment: "I saw another angel come down from heaven, having great
power: and the earth was enlightened with his glory. And he cried out with a
strong voice, saying: Babylon the great is fallen, is fallen; and is become
the habitation of devils, and the hold of every unclean spirit, and the hold
of every unclean and hateful bird." (Apoc. 18:1-2). And the holy
Evangelist adds, "And a mighty angel took up a stone, as it were a great
millstone, and cast it into the sea, saying: With such violence as this shall
Babylon, that great city, be thrown down, and shall be found no more at
all." (Apoc. 18:21). In like manner shall the wicked, represented
by Babylon, be cast into the sea of darkness and confusion.
What tongue can express the torments of this
eternal prison? The body will burn with a raging fire which will never be
extinguished; the soul will be tortured by the gnawing, undying worm of
conscience. The darkness will resound with despairing cries, blasphemies,
perpetual weeping and gnashing of teeth. The sinner, in his impotent rage,
will tear his flesh and curse the inexorable justice which condemns him to
these torments. He will curse the day of his birth, crying out in the words of
Job, "Let the day perish wherein I was born, and the night in which it
was said: A man child is conceived. Let that day be turned into darkness, let
not God regard it from above, and let not the light shine upon it. Let
darkness and the shadow of death cover it, let a mist overspread it, and let
it be wrapped up in bitterness. Let a darksome whirlwind seize upon that
night, let it not be counted in the days of the year, nor numbered in the
months. Why did I not die in the womb, why did I not perish at once when I
came out of the womb? Why was I placed upon the knees? Why was I suckled at
the breasts?" (Job 3:3-6,11-12).
Unhappy tongues which will henceforth utter only
blasphemies! Unhappy ears to be forever filled with sighs and lamentations!
Unhappy eyes which will never gaze upon anything but misery! Unhappy flesh
consumed in eternal flames! Who can tell the bitter remorse of the sinner who
has spent his life in pursuit of new pleasures and new amusements? Oh! How
fleeting were the joys that brought such a series of woes! O senseless,
unhappy man! What do your riches now avail you? The seven years of abundance
are past, and the years of famine are upon you. Your wealth has been consumed
in the twinkling of an eye, and no trace of it remains. Your glory has
vanished; your happiness is swallowed up in an abyss of woe! So extreme is
your misery that a drop of water is denied you to allay the parching thirst
with which you are consumed. Not only is your former prosperity of no avail,
but rather it increases the torture of your cruel sufferings. Thus shall the
imprecation of Job be verified: "May worms be his sweetness" (Job
24:20), which St. Gregory thus explains: "The remembrance of their past
pleasures will make their present sufferings more keen; and the contrast of
their short-lived happiness with this endless misery will fill them with rage
and despair." (Moral., 15, 26;16, 31).
They will recognize too late the snares of the
evil one, and will exclaim in the words of the Book of Wisdom: "We have
erred from the way of truth, and the light of justice hath not shone unto us,
and the sun of understanding hath not risen upon us. We have wearied
ourselves in the way of iniquity and destruction, and have walked through
hard ways, but the way of the Lord we have not known." (Wis.
5:6-7). The contemplation of this terrible truth cannot but rouse us from our
indifference and excite us to practice virtue.
St. John Chrysostom frequently uses this truth as
a means to exhort his hearers to virtue. "If you would labor effectually,"
he says, "to make your soul the temple and the abode of the Divinity,
never lose sight of the solemn and awful day when you are to appear before
the tribunal of Christ to render an account of all your works. Represent to
yourself the glory and majesty with which Christ will come to judge the
living and the dead. Consider the irrevocable sentence which will then be
pronounced upon mankind, and the terrible separation which will follow it.
The just will enter into the possession of ineffable joy and happiness; the
wicked will be precipitated into exterior darkness, where there will be
perpetual weeping and gnashing of teeth. They will be gathered like weeds,
and cast into the fire, where they will remain for all eternity." Ah!
Then, before it is too late, let us save ourselves from this terrible
misfortune by a humble and sincere confession of our sins a favor that we
will not receive on that day, for, as the Psalmist asks, Who shall confess to
thee in hell?" (Ps. 6:6).
Another thought which should here impress us is
that God has given us two eyes, two ears, two hands, and two feet, so that if
we lose one of these members we still have one left. But He has given us only
one soul, and if we lose that we have no other with which to enjoy eternal
happiness. Our first care, therefore, should be to save our soul, which is to
share with the body either eternal happiness or eternal woe. It will avail no
man at this supreme tribunal to urge, "I was dazzled by the glitter of
wealth; I was deceived by the promises of the world." The inexorable
Judge will answer, "I warned you against these. Did I not say, 'What
doth it profit a man if he gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his
own soul?'" (Matt. 16:26). Nor can you plead that the devil
tempted you. He will remind you that Eve was not excused when she urged that
the serpent had tempted her.
The vision of Jeremias teaches us what Our Lord's
treatment of us will be. The prophet beheld first "a rod watching,"
and then "a caldron boiling." This is a figure of God's dealings
with men. First He warns them, and if they do not heed, He punishes them; for
he who will not submit to the correction of the rod will be cast into the
caldron of fire. As you read of God's punishments in Scripture, have you ever
observed that no one pleads for those whom God condemns? Father does not
plead for son, nor brother for brother, nor friend for friend. Yes, even
God's privileged servants, Noe, Daniel, Job, would seek in vain to alter the
sentence of your Judge.
At the wedding feast no voice is raised to
intercede for him who is driven from the banquet. No one pleads for the
slothful servant who buried the talent entrusted to him by his Master. No one
makes intercession with the Bridegroom for the five foolish virgins who,
after despising the pleasures of the flesh and stifling in their hearts the
fire of concupiscence, nay, after observing the great counsel of virginity,
neglected the precept of humility and became inflated with pride on account
of their virginity. You know the history of the avaricious man of the Gospel,
and how vainly he pleaded with Abraham for a drop of water to quench his
burning thirst.
Why, then, will we not help one another while we
can? Why will we not render glory to God before the sun of His justice has
set for us? Better let our tongues be parched with privation and fasting
during the short space of this life, than by sinful indulgence expose
ourselves to an eternal thirst. If we can hardly endure a few days of fever,
how will we bear the parching thirst and burning torments of that fire which
will never die? If we are so appalled at a sentence of death pronounced by an
earthly judge, which, at most, deprives us of but forty or fifty years of
life, with what feelings will we hear that sentence which deprives us of an
immortal life and condemns us to an eternity of misery?
With what horror we read of the tortures inflicted
by executioners upon malefactors; yet the most cruel are only shadows
compared to the eternal torments of the life to come. The former end with
this life; but in Hell the worm of conscience shall never die, the
executioner shall never grow weary, the fire shall never be extinguished.
What, then, will be the feelings of the wicked when suddenly transported from
the midst of earthly happiness to this abyss of unspeakable miseries? In vain
will they denounce their blindness and bewail the graces they refused. What
can the pilot do when the ship is lost? Of what use is the physician when the
patient is dead? Whither will we turn, on that terrible day, when the heavens
and the earth, the sun, moon, and stars, when all creatures, will raise their
voices against us to testify the evil we have committed? But even were these
silent, our own consciences would still accuse us.
These reflections, dear Christian, we have
gathered chiefly from the writings of St. John Chrysostom. Do they not prove
the necessity of living with the fear of this supreme judgment constantly
before us? This fear was never absent from the heart of St. Ambrose,
notwithstanding the vigilant fervor of his life. "Woe is me," he
exclaims in his commentary on St. Luke "Woe is me if I weep not for my
sins! Woe is me, O Lord, if I rise not in the night to confess and proclaim
the glory of Thy name! Woe is me if I do not dissipate the errors of my
brethren and cause the light of truth to burn before their eyes, for the axe
is now laid to the root of the tree."
Let him, therefore, who is in a state of grace,
bring forth fruits of justice and salvation. Let him who is in a state of sin
bring forth fruits of penance, for the time approaches when the Lord will
gather His fruit; and He will give eternal life to those who have labored
courageously and profitably, and eternal death to those whose works are
barren and useless.
CHAPTER 9
The Ninth Motive for practicing Virtue:
The Thought of Heaven, the Third of the
Four Last Things
A motive no less powerful than those we have
enumerated is the thought of Heaven. This is the reward of virtue, and in it
we must distinguish two things: the excellence and beauty of the abode
promised us, which is no other than the empyreal heavens, and the perfection
and beauty of the Sovereign King who reigns there with His elect.
But though no tongue can fully express the
splendor and riches of the heavenly kingdom, we will endeavor to describe its
beauty as well as our limited capacities will allow. Let us, therefore, first
consider the grand end for which it was created, which will enable us to
conceive some idea of its magnificence.
God created it to manifest His glory. Though
"the Lord hath made all things for himself," (Prov. 16:4)
yet this is particularly true of Heaven, for it is there that His glory and
power are most resplendent. We are told in Scripture that Assuerus, whose
kingdom included one hundred twenty-seven provinces, gave a great feast,
which lasted one hundred eighty days, for the purpose of manifesting his
splendor and power. So the Sovereign King of the universe is pleased to
celebrate a magnificent feast, which continues, not for one hundred eighty
days only, but for all eternity, to manifest the magnificence of His bounty,
His power, His riches, His goodness.
It is of this feast that the prophet speaks when
he tells us, "The Lord of hosts shall make unto all people in this
mountain a feast of fat things, a feast of wine, of fat things full of
marrow, of wine purified from the lees." (Is. 25:6). By this we
are to understand that He will lavish upon His elect all the riches of the
heavenly country and inebriate them with unutterable delights. Since this
feast is prepared to manifest the greatness of God's glory, which is
infinite, what must be the magnificence of this feast and the variety and
splendor of the riches He displays to the eyes of His elect?
We will better appreciate the grandeur of Heaven
if we consider the infinite power and boundless riches of God Himself. His
power is so great that with a single word He created this vast universe, and
with a single word He could again reduce it to its original nothingness. A
single expression of His will would suffice to create millions of worlds as
beautiful as ours, and to destroy them in one instant.
Moreover, His power is exercised without effort or
exertion; it costs Him no more to create the most sublime seraphim than to
create the smallest insect. With Him, to will is to accomplish. Therefore, if
the power of the King who calls us to His kingdom be so great; if such be the
glory of His holy Name; if His desire to manifest and communicate this glory
be so great, what must be the splendor of the abode where He wills to
display, in its fullness, His divine magnificence?
Nothing can be wanting to its perfection, for its
Author is the Source of all riches, all power, and all wisdom. What must be
the beauty of that creation in the formation of which are combined the
almighty power of the Father, the infinite wisdom of the Son, the
inexhaustible goodness of the Holy Spirit?
Another consideration no less striking is that God
has prepared this magnificence not only for His glory, but for the glory of
His elect. "Whosoever shall glorify me, him will I glorify." (1Kg.
2:30). "Thou hast subjected all things under his feet," cries out
the psalmist (Ps. 8:8); and this we see verified in the most striking
manner among the saints. Witness Josue, whose word arrests the sun in its
course, thus showing us, as the Scripture says, "God obeying the voice
of man." (Jos. 10:14). Consider the prophet Isaias bidding King
Ezechias choose whether he will have the sun go forward or backward in its course,
for it was in the power of God's servant to cause either. (4Kg. 20:9).
Behold Elias closing the heavens, so that there
was no rain but at his will and prayer. And not only during life, but even
after death, God continues to honor the mortal remains of His elect; for do
we not read in Scripture that a dead body which was thrown by highwaymen into
the tomb of Eliseus was brought to life by contact with the bones of the
prophet? (4Kg. 13:21). Did not God also honor in a marvelous manner
the body of St. Clement? On the day that this generous defender of the Faith
suffered, the sea was opened for a distance of three miles to allow the
people to pass to the place of martyrdom to venerate the sacred remains. Is
it not from a like motive that the Church has instituted a feast in honor of
St. Peter's chains, to show us how God wills to honor the bodies of His
servants, since we are to reverence their very chains?
A still more marvelous proof of this was the power
of healing the sick communicated to the shadow of the same Apostle. Oh!
Admirable goodness! God confers upon His Apostle a power which He Himself did
not exercise. Of St. Peter alone is this related. But if God be pleased thus
to honor the saints on earth, though it is but a place of toil and labor, who
can tell the glory which He has reserved for them in His kingdom, where He
wills to honor them, and through them to glorify Himself?
The Holy Scriptures teach us also with what
liberality God rewards the services we render Him. We are told that when
Abraham was about to sacrifice his son in obedience to God's command, an
angel of the Lord appeared to him and said, "By my own self have I
sworn, saith the Lord: because thou hast done this thing, and hast not spared
thy only begotten son for my sake, I will bless thee, and I will multiply thy
seed as the stars of heaven and as the sand that is by the sea shore; thy
seed shall possess the gates of their enemies. And in thy seed shall all the
nations of the earth be blessed, because thou hast obeyed my voice." (Gen.
22:16-18). Was not this a reward befitting such a Master? God is sovereign in
His rewards, as well as in His punishments.
We read also that David, reflecting one night that
while he dwelt in a house of cedar, the Ark of the Covenant was kept in a
poor tent, resolved to build it a more fitting habitation; and the next day
the Lord sent the prophet Nathan to promise, in His name, the following
magnificent reward: Because thou hast thought of building me a house, I swear
to thee that I will build one for thee and thy posterity which shall have no
end, nor will I ever remove my mercies from it. (Cf. 2Kg. 7). We see
how faithfully His promise was fulfilled, for the kingdom of Israel was
governed by the princes of the house of David until the coming of the Messias,
who from that time has reigned, and shall reign for all eternity.
Heaven, then, is that superabundant reward which
the faithful will receive for their good works. It is the manifestation of
the Divine munificence, and of its greatness and glory we ought to have a
lively appreciation. Another consideration which will help us to form some
idea of the eternal beatitude promised us is the price which God, who is so
liberal, required for it. After we had forfeited Heaven by sin, God, who is
so rich and magnificent in His rewards, would restore it to us only at the
price of the Blood of His Divine Son. The death of Christ, therefore, gave us
life; His sorrows won for us eternal joy; and, that we might enter into the
ranks of the celestial choirs, He bore the ignominy of crucifixion between
two thieves.
Who, then, can sufficiently value that happiness
to obtain which God shed the last drop of His Blood, was bound with
ignominious fetters, overwhelmed with outrages, bruised with blows, and
nailed to a cross? But besides all these, God asks on our part all that can
be required of man. He tells us that we must take up our cross and follow
Him; that if our right eye offend us we must pluck it out; that we must
renounce father and mother, and every creature that is an obstacle to the
Divine will. And after we have faithfully complied with His commands, the
Sovereign Remunerator still tells us that the enjoyment of Heaven is a
gratuitous gift. "I am Alpha and Omega; the beginning and the end,"
He says by the mouth of St. John (Apoc. 21:6); "to him that
thirsteth, I will give of the fountain of the water of life freely."
Since God so liberally bestows His gifts upon the
sinner as well as the just in this life, what must be the inexhaustible
riches reserved for the just in the life to come? If He be so bountiful in
His gratuitous gifts, how munificent will He be in His rewards?
It may further help us to conceive a faint image
of this eternal glory to consider the nobility and grandeur of the empyreal
Heaven, our future country. It is called in Scripture the land of the living,
in contrast, doubtless, to our sad country, which may truly be called the
land of the dying. But if, in this land of death inhabited by mortal beings,
so much beauty and perfection are found, what must be the splendor and
magnificence of that heavenly country whose inhabitants will live forever?
Cast your eyes over the world and behold the
wonders and beauties with which it is filled. Observe the immensity of the
blue vault of heaven; the dazzling splendor of the sun; the soft radiance of
the moon and stars; the verdant beauty of the earth, with its treasures of
precious metals and brilliant gems; the rich plumage of the birds; the
grandeur of the mountains; the smiling beauty of the valleys; the limpid
freshness of the streams; the majesty of the great rivers; the vastness of
the sea, with all the wonders it contains; the beauty of the deep lakes,
those eyes of the earth, reflecting on their placid bosoms the starry
splendor of the heavens; the flower-enameled fields, which seem a counterpart
of the starlit firmament above them. If in this land of exile we behold so
much beauty to enrapture our soul, what must be the spectacle which awaits us
in the haven of eternal rest?
Compare the inhabitants of the two countries, if
you would have a still stronger proof of the superiority and finite grandeur
of the heavenly country. This earth is the land of death; Heaven is the land
of immortality. Ours is the habitation of sinners, Heaven the habitation of
the just. Ours is a place of penance, an arena of combat; Heaven is the land
of triumph, the throne of the victor, the "city of God."
"Glorious things are said of thee, O city of God." (Ps.
86:3). Immeasurable is thy greatness, incomparable the beauty of thy structure.
Infinite thy price; most noble thy inhabitants, sublime thy employments; most
rich art thou in all good, and no evil can penetrate thy sacred walls. Great
is thy Author, high the end for which thou wast created, and most noble the
blessed citizens who dwell in thee.
All that we have hitherto said relates only to the
accidental glory of the saints. They possess another glory incomparably
superior, which theologians call the essential glory. This is the vision and
possession of God Himself. For St. Augustine tells us that the reward of
virtue will be God Himself, the Author of all virtue, whom we will untiringly
contemplate, love, and praise for all eternity. (City of God,
22, 30). What reward could be greater than this? It is not Heaven, or earth,
or any created perfection, but God, the Source of all beauty and all
perfection. The blessed inhabitants of Heaven will enjoy in Him all good,
each according to the degree of glory he has merited. For since God is the
Author of every good that we behold in creatures, it follows that He
possesses in Himself all perfection, all goodness, in an infinite degree. He
possesses them, because otherwise He could not have bestowed them on
creatures. He possesses them in an infinite degree, because as His Being is
infinite, so also are His attributes and His perfections.
God, then, will be our sovereign beatitude and the
fulfillment of all our desires. In Him we will find the perfections of all
creatures exalted and transfigured. In Him we will enjoy the beauty of all
the seasons the balmy freshness of spring, the rich beauty of summer, the
luxurious abundance of autumn, and the calm repose of winter. In a word, all
that can delight the senses and enrapture the soul will be ours in Heaven.
"In God," says St. Bernard, "our understandings will be filled
with the plenitude of light; our wills with an abundance of peace; and our
memories with the joys of eternity. In this abode of all perfection, the
wisdom of Solomon will appear but ignorance; the beauty of Absolom deformity;
the strength of Samson weakness; the longest life of man a brief mortality;
the wealth of kings but indigence."
Why, then, O man, will you seek straws in Egypt?
Why will you drink troubled waters from broken cisterns, when inexhaustible treasures,
and the fountain of living water springing up into eternal life, await you in
Heaven? Why will you seek vain and sensual satisfactions from creatures, when
unalterable happiness may be yours? If your heart craves joy, raise it to the
contemplation of that Good which contains in Itself all joys. If you are in
love with this created life, consider the eternal life which awaits you
above. If the beauty of creatures attracts you, live that you may one day
possess the Source of all beauty, in whom are life; and strength, and glory,
and immortality, and the fullness of all our desires. If you find happiness
in friendship and the society of generous hearts, consider the noble beings
with whom you will be united by the tenderest ties for all eternity. If your
ambition seeks wealth and honors, make the treasures and the glory of Heaven
the end of all your efforts. Finally, if you desire freedom from all evil and
rest from all labor, in Heaven alone can your desires be gratified.
God, in the Old Law, ordained that children should
be circumcised on the eighth day after birth, teaching us thereby that, on
the day of the general resurrection which will follow the short space of this
life, He will cut off the miseries and sufferings of those who, for love of
Him, have circumcised their hearts by cutting off all the sinful affections
and pleasures of this world. Now, who can conceive a happier existence than
this, which is exempt from every sorrow and every infirmity?
"In Heaven," says St. Augustine,
"we shall cease to feel the trials of want or sickness. Pride or envy
will never enter there. The necessity of eating or drinking will there be
unknown. The desire for honors will never disturb our calm repose. Death will
no longer reach body or soul, united as they will be with the Source of all
life, which they will enjoy throughout a blessed immortality." (Soliloq.,
35). Consider, moreover, the glory and happiness of living in the company of
the angels, contemplating the beauty of these sublime spirits; admiring the resplendent
virtue of the saints, and the rewards with which the obedience of the
patriarchs and the hope of the prophets have been crowned; the brilliant
diadems of the martyrs, dyed with their own blood; and the dazzling whiteness
of the robes with which the virgins are adorned.
But what tongue can describe the beauty and the
majesty of the Sovereign Monarch who reigns in their midst? "If by daily
enduring fresh torments," says St. Augustine (Manual., 15),
"and even suffering for a time the pains of Hell, we were permitted for
one day to contemplate this King in all His glory and enjoy the society of
His elect, surely it would be a happiness cheaply purchased."
What, then, can we say of the happiness of
possessing these joys for all eternity? Conceive, if you can, the ravishing
harmony of the celestial voices chanting the words heard by St. John:
"Benediction, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, honor, and power,
and strength to our God for ever and ever. Amen." (Apoc. 7:12).
If the harmony of these voices will cause us such happiness, how we will
rejoice at the unity that we will behold between soul and body! And this
concord will be still more marked between angels and men, whilst between God
and men the union will be so close that we can form no adequate idea of it.
What glory, then, will it be for the creature to find himself seated at the
banquet of the King of kings, partaking of His table-that is, of His honor
and His glory! Oh! Enduring peace of Heaven! Oh! Unalterable joy! Oh!
Entrancing harmonies! Oh! Torrents of celestial delight, why are ye not ever
present to the minds of those who labor and combat on earth?
If such be the happiness which faith tells us is
the reward of the just, how great is your blindness if you are not moved
thereby to practice virtue!
|
CHAPTER 10
The Tenth Motive for practicing Virtue:
The Thought of Hell, the Fourth of the
Four Last Things
The least part of the happiness we have
endeavored to portray should be sufficient to inflame our hearts with a
love of virtue. Nevertheless, we shall also consider the terrible
alternative of misery reserved for the reprobate. The sinner cannot comfort
himself by saying, "After all, the only result of my depraved life
will be that I shall never see God. Further than this I shall have neither
reward nor punishment." Oh, no; we are all destined to one or the
other either to reign eternally with God in Heaven or to burn forever
with the devils in Hell!
This happiness and misery, either of which must
inevitably be our portion, are represented by the two baskets of figs which
Jeremias saw in the vision, one containing "very good figs, like the
figs of the first season, and the other basket very bad figs, which could
not be eaten." (Jer. 24:1-2). God willed thus to represent to
His prophet the two classes of souls, one of which forms the object of His
mercy, and the other of His justice. The happiness of the first is
unequaled, and the misery of the second is also incomparable; for the just
enjoy the perpetual vision of God, which is the greatest of all blessings,
while the wicked are forever deprived of this vision, and thereby suffer
the greatest of all evils.
If men who sin so rashly would weigh this truth,
they would know the terrible burden that they lay upon themselves. Those
who earn their living by carrying burdens first estimate the weight they
are to bear, that they may know whether it is beyond their strength. Why,
then, O rash man, will you or a passing pleasure so lightly assume the
terrible burden of sin, without considering your strength to bear it? Will
you not reflect on the heavy weight you thus condemn yourself to bear for
all eternity? To help you do this I shall offer you a few considerations
which will enable you to realize in some measure the greatness of the punishment
reserved for sin.
Let us first reflect on the almighty power of
God, whose justice will chastise the sinner. God's greatness is apparent in
all His works. He is God, not only in Heaven, earth, and sea, but in Hell
and in every other place. He is God in His wrath and in the justice with
which He avenges the outrages offered to His divine majesty. Therefore, He
Himself exclaims by the mouth of His prophet, "Will you not then fear
me, and will you not repent at my presence? I have set the sand a bound for
the sea, an everlasting ordinance, which it shall not pass over; and the
waves thereof shall toss themselves, and shall not prevail: they shall
swell, and shall not pass over it." (Jer. 5:22).
In other words, will you not fear the almighty
power of that Arm which controls the elements, which sustains the universe,
and which no power can resist? If the works of His mercy excite us to love
and praise Him, we have no less reason to fear the greatness of His
justice. Hence the prophet Jeremias, though innocent, and even sanctified
in his mother's womb, was deeply penetrated with this salutary fear.
"Who," he cries out, "shall not fear thee, O king of
nations?" (Jer. 10:7). And again: "I sat alone, because
thou hast filled me with threats." (Jer. 15:17). Doubtless the
prophet knew that these threats were not uttered against him; yet they
filled him with terror. The pillars of Heaven, we are told, tremble before
the majesty of God, and the powers and principalities prostrate themselves
in awe before His throne. If these pure spirits, confirmed in bliss, and in
no manner doubting of their happiness, but only through admiration of the
Divine Perfections, tremble before His power, what should be the terror of
the sinner who has made himself the object of His wrath? It is the power of
our Sovereign Judge which is most appalling in the punishment of sin.
Speaking of God's punishments, St. John says, "Babylon's plagues shall
come in one day, death, and mourning, and famine, and she shall be burnt
with fire, because God is strong, who shall judge her." (Apoc.
18:8). The great Apostle, filled with awe of this power, exclaims, "It
is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God." (Heb.
10:31).
We have not such reason to fear the hands of men,
from whom we can escape, and who at least cannot thrust the soul into Hell.
Hence Our Saviour tells His disciples, "And fear ye not them that kill
the body and are not able to kill the soul. But rather fear him who can
destroy both soul and body in Hell." (Matt. 10:28). The author
of Ecclesiasticus, impressed with the might of this power, thus warns us:
"Unless we do penance we shall fall into the hands of the Lord, and
not into the hands of men." (Ecclus. 2:22). This united
testimony proves, as we have said, that as God is great in His mercy and
rewards, so will He be great in His justice and punishments.
This truth is still more apparent in the
terrible chastisements inflicted by God which are related in Scripture.
Witness the punishment of Dathan and Abiron, who, with all their
accomplices, were swallowed alive into the earth and thrust into the depths
of Hell for rebelling against their superiors. Who can read unmoved the
threats against transgressors recorded in Deuteronomy? Among others equally
terrible, here is one which the sacred writer puts into the mouth of God:
"Thou shalt serve thy enemy, whom the Lord will send upon thee, in
hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, and in want of all things: and he shall
put an iron yoke upon thy neck till he consume thee
And thou shalt eat
the fruit of thy womb, and the flesh of thy sons and of thy daughters,
which the Lord thy God shall give thee, in the distress and extremity
wherewith thy enemy shall oppress thee." (Deut. 28:48, 53).
We can scarcely imagine punishments more
dreadful than these; yet they, as well as all the sufferings of this life,
are but a shadow when compared to the terrible torments of the life to
come. If His justice be so rigorous in this world, though always tempered
by His love, what will it be in eternity when exercised without mercy? For
the sinner who has despised God's mercies in this life will feel only the
effects con of His justice in the life to come.
Another consideration which may help us to
appreciate the rigor of these sufferings is the greatness of the mercy of
which the sinner has despised. What is there more astonishing than that
mercy which caused God to clothe Himself in human flesh, to endure
innumerable sufferings and humiliations, to take upon Himself the
transgressions of the world, and for these transgressions to expire as a
malefactor on an infamous gibbet? God is infinite in all His attributes;
and, therefore, the justice with which He will punish man will equal the
boundless mercy with which He redeemed him.
When God first came upon earth there was nothing
in us to excite His mercy; but at His second coming our every sin will be
an additional reason for Him to exercise His justice. Judge, therefore, how
terrible it will be. "At His second coming," says St. Bernard, "God
will be as inflexible and as rigorous in punishing as at His first coming
He was patient and merciful in forgiving. There is now no sinner living who
is cut off from His reconciliation; but in the day of His justice none will
be received." These words of St. Bernard are confirmed by the royal
prophet,. who tells us, "Our God is the God of salvation: and of the
Lord, of the Lord are the issues from death. But God shall break the heads
of his enemies: the hairy crown of them that walk on in their sins." (Ps.
67:21-22). Behold, then, how great is God's mercy to those who are
converted to Him, and how great is the rigor with which He punishes
obdurate sinners.
The same truth is manifested by God's patience
with the world, and with the vices and disorders of every sinner in
particular. How many there are who, from the age of reason to the end of
their lives, continually offend Him and despise His law, regardless of His
promises, His benefits, His warnings, or His menaces! Yet God does not cut
them off, but continues to bear with them, unceasingly exhorting them to
repentance. But when the term of His patience will come, and His wrath,
which has been accumulating in the bosom of His justice, will burst its
bounds, with what terrible violence it will be poured out upon them!
"Knowest thou not," says the Apostle, "that the benignity of
God leadeth thee to penance? But according to thy hardness and impenitent
heart, thou treasurest up to thyself wrath, against the day of wrath, and
revelation of the just judgment of God, who will render to every man
according to his works." (Rom. 2:4-6).
The meaning of these words is not difficult. A
treasure of wrath is a terrible figure. Just as the miser adds coin to
coin, riches to riches, so the wrath of God is daily and even hourly
increased by the transgressions of the sinner. Were a man to let no day or
hour pass without adding to his material fortune, consider what an immense
amount he would have accumulated at the end of fifty or sixty years. Alas,
then, for thee, unhappy sinner, for there is hardly an hour in which thou
dost not add to the treasures of God's wrath which thy sins are
accumulating against thee. Thy immodest glances, the evil desires of thy
corrupt heart, and thy scandalous words and blasphemies would alone suffice
to fill a world. If to these are added the many other grievous crimes of
which thou hast been guilty, consider the treasure of vengeance and wrath
which a long life of sin will heap up against thee.
If to the considerations already given we add a
brief reflection on the gratitude of men, it will help us realize, in some
measure, the severity of the punishment inflicted upon the sinner.
Contemplate God's goodness to men; the benefits He has heaped upon them;
the means He has given them to practice virtue; the iniquities He has
forgiven them; the evils from which He has delivered them. Consider,
moreover, the ingratitude of men for all these blessings; their many
treasons and rebellions against God; their contempt of His laws, which they
trample underfoot for a paltry interest, and often through malice or mere
caprice. What, then, can he expect who has thus outraged God's mercy, who,
in the words of the Apostle, has "trodden under foot the Son of God,
and hath esteemed the blood of the testament unclean, by which he was
sanctified?" (Heb. 10:29). God is a just Judge, and their
punishment will be proportioned to their crimes. Remember the majesty of
Him who has been offended, and consider the sufferings of that body and
soul which must offer satisfaction for such an outrage. If the Blood of
Christ were needed to make reparation for man's offences, the dignity of
the Victim supplying what was lacking in the severity of His sufferings,
how terrible will be those sufferings which sinners must endure, and which must
supply by their vigor what is wanting in the merit of the victim!
If the thought of the Judge impress us so
deeply, what ought to be our feelings when we consider who it is that will
be the executioner! The executioner will be the devil. What, then, may we
not expect from the malice of such an enemy? If we would form some idea of
his cruelty, consider his treatment of the holy man Job, whom God delivered
into his hands. He destroyed his flocks; laid waste his lands; overthrew
his houses; carried off his children by death; made his body a mass of
ulcers, and left him no other refuge but a dunghill and a potsherd to
scrape his sores. In addition to his suffering he left him a scolding wife
and cruel friends, who reviled him with words which tortured him more
keenly than the worms which preyed upon his flesh. Thus was Job afflicted
by Satan, but it is impossible to describe in human language Satan's
treatment of our Blessed Saviour during the night in which He was the
victim of the powers of darkness.
Seeing, then, how cruel are the devil and his
angels, will you not tremble with horror at the thought of being delivered
into their hands? They will have power to execute upon you the most
terrible inventions of their malice, not for a day, or a night, or a year
only, but for all eternity. Read the appalling picture of these evil
spirits given by St. John: "I saw a star," says the Apostle,
"fall from heaven upon the earth, and there was given to him the key
of the bottomless pit. And he opened the bottomless pit; and the smoke of
the pit arose as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were
darkened with the smoke of the pit. And from the smoke of the pit there
came out locusts upon the earth. And power was given to them, as the
scorpions of the earth have power. And it was commanded them that they
should not hurt the grass of the earth, nor any green thing, nor any tree,
but only the men who have not the seal of God on their foreheads. And it
was given to them that they should not kill them, but that they should
torment them five months: and their torment was as the torment of a
scorpion when he striketh a man. And in those days men shall seek death,
and shall not find it; and they shall desire to die, and death shall fly
from them. And the shapes of the locusts to were like unto horses prepared
unto battle; and on their heads were, as it were, crowns like gold; and
their faces were as the faces of men. And they had hair as the hair of
women, and their teeth were as the teeth of lions; and they had breastplates
as breastplates of iron, and the noise of their wings was as the sound of
chariots of many horses running to battle. And they had tails like to
scorpions, and there were stings in their tails." (Apoc.
9:1-10).
Does not the Holy Ghost design to teach us by
these terrible figures the fearful effects of God's justice, the awful
instruments of His wrath, and the appalling tortures of the reprobate? Does
He not wish that the fear of these evils should save us from the lot of the
sinner? What is that star which fell from Heaven, and received the key of
the bottomless pit, but that bright angel who was precipitated from Heaven
to reign forever in Hell? Do not the locusts, so well equipped for battle,
represent the ministers of Satan? And are not the green things which they
were commanded to spare, the just who flourish under the dew of God's grace
and bring forth fruits of eternal life? Who are they who have not the seal
of God upon their foreheads but men who have not His Spirit, which is the
mark and seal of His faithful servants? It is against these unhappy souls
that the ministers of God's vengeance will work.
Yes, they will be tormented in this life and in
the next by the devils whom they willed to serve, just as the Egyptians
were tormented by the various living creatures which they had adored. What
terrible pictures are given us in Scripture of the monsters of this eternal
abyss! What can be conceived more horrible than the behemoth, "that
setteth up his tail like a cedar, whose bones are like pipes of brass, who
drinketh up rivers and devoureth mountains?" (Job 40:10-19).
The considerations already given are certainly
sufficient to inspire us with a horror of sin; but to strengthen this
salutary fear let us reflect upon the duration of these terrible torments.
Try to realize what a comfort it would be to the damned if at the end of
millions of years they could look forward to any term or alleviation of
their sufferings. But no; their suffering shall be eternal; they shall
continue as long as God shall be God. If one of these unhappy souls, says a
Doctor of the Church, were to shed one tear every thousand years, and if
these tears accumulated to such a flood as to inundate the world, he would
still be as far as ever from the end of his sufferings. Eternity would only
be at its beginning. Is there anything worthy of our fears but this
terrible fate? Truly, were the pain of Hell no more than the prick of a
pin, yet if it must continue forever there is no suffering in this world
which man should not endure to avoid it.
Oh! That this eternity, this terrible forever,
were deeply graven in our hearts! We are told that a worldly man, giving
himself to serious reflection upon eternity, made use of this simple
reasoning: There is no sensible man who would accept the empire of the
world at the expense of thirty or forty years spent upon a bed, even were
it a bed of roses. How great, then, is the folly of him who, for much
smaller interests, incurs the risk of being condemned to lie upon a bed of
fire for all eternity! This thought wrought such a change in his life that
he became a great saint and most worthy prelate of the Church.
What consideration will be given to this by the
soft and effeminate, who complain so much if the buzzing of a mosquito
disturbs their night's repose? What will they say when they will find
themselves stretched upon a bed of fire, surrounded by sulphurous flames,
not for one short summer night, but for all eternity? To such the prophet
addresses himself when he says, "Which of you can dwell with devouring
fire? Which of you shall dwell with everlasting burnings?" (Is.
33:14). O senseless man! Will you continue to allow yourself to be deceived
by the arch-enemy of your soul? How can you be so diligent in providing for
your temporal welfare, and yet be so careless of your eternal interests?
If you were penetrated with these reflections,
what obstacle could turn you from the practice of virtue? Difficult as it
may appear, is there any sacrifice you would refuse to escape these eternal
torments? Were God to allow a man to choose whether he would be tormented
while on earth with a gout or toothache which would never allow him a
moment's repose, or embrace the life of a Carthusian or a Carmelite, do you
think there is anyone who would not, purely from a motive of self-love,
choose the state of a religious rather than endure this continual
suffering? Yet there is no pain in this life which can be compared to the
pains of Hell, either in intensity or in duration. Why, then, will we not
accept the labor God asks of us, which is so much less than the austerities
of a Carthusian or a Carmelite? Why will we refuse the restraint of His
law, which will save us from such suffering?
What will add most keenly to the sufferings of
the damned will be the knowledge that by a short penance and self-denial
upon earth they might have averted these terrible pains which they must
fruitlessly endure for all eternity. We see a figure of this awful truth in
the furnace which Nabuchodonosor caused to be built in Babylon (Dan.
3), the flames of which mounted forty-nine cubits, but could never reach
fifty, the number of the year of jubilee, or general pardon. In like manner
the eternal flame of this Babylon, though it burns so fiercely, filling its
unhappy victims with pain and anguish, will never reach the point of mercy,
will never obtain for them the grace of pardon of the heavenly jubilee.
Oh! Unprofitable pains! Oh! Fruitless tears! Oh!
Rigorous and hopeless penance! If borne in this life, the smallest portion
of them might have saved the sinner from everlasting misery. Mindful of all
these, send forth your tears and sighs, remembering the prophet who
"lamented and howled, who went stripped and naked, making a wailing
like the dragons, and a mourning like the ostriches, because her wound was
desperate." (Micheas 1:8-9).
If men were ignorant of these truths, if they
had not received them as infallible, their negligence and indifference
would not be so astonishing. But have we not reason to wonder, since men
have received them on the word of Him who has said, "Heaven and earth
shall pass away, but my words shall not pass away"? (Lk.
21:33). Yet behold in what forgetfulness of their duty and their God they
continue to live.
Tell me, blind soul, what pleasure you find in
the riches and honors of this world which is a compensation for the eternal
fire of Hell. "If you possessed the wisdom of Solomon," says St.
Jerome, "the beauty of Absalom, the strength of Samson, the longevity
of Henoch, the riches of Croesus, the power of Caesar, what will all these
avail you at death, if your body becomes the prey of worms, and your soul,
like the rich glutton's, the sport of demons for all eternity?"
CHAPTER 11
The Eleventh Motive for practicing
Virtue:
The Inestimable Advantages promised it
even in this Life
With such powerful reasons for embracing virtue,
I know not what excuse men can make for refusing to practice it. That
pagans, who are ignorant of its value, do not prize it is not astonishing.
A peasant digging in the earth and finding a precious stone will probably
throw it away, because he does not know its worth. But that Christians, who
have been taught the value and beauty of virtue, continue to live in
forgetfulness of God and wedded to the things of this world, as if there
were no such thing as death or judgment, or Heaven or Hell, is a continual
subject of sorrowful wonder. Whence this blindness, whence this folly?
It has several causes, the principal of which is
the mistaken opinion of the generality of men, who believe that no
advantages are to be reaped from virtue in this life, that its rewards are
reserved for the life to come.
Men are so powerfully moved by self-interest,
and present objects make such an impression upon them, that they think very
little of future rewards and seek only their immediate satisfaction. The
same was true even in the days of the prophets; for when Ezechiel made any
promise or uttered any threat in the name of the Lord, people laughed at
him and said to one another, "The vision that this man seeth is for
many days to come; and this man prophesieth of times afar off." (Ezech.
12:27). In like manner did they ridicule the prophet Isaias: "Command,
command again, command, command again; expect, expect again, expect, expect
again." (Is. 28:10). Solomon teaches us the same when he says,
"Because sentence is not speedily pronounced against the evil, the
children of men commit evils without any fear
Because all things equally
happen to the just and the wicked
to him that offereth victims and to him
that despiseth sacrifices
the hearts of the children of men are filled
with evil, and with contempt while they live, and afterwards they shall be
brought down to hell." (Eccles. 8:11; 9:2-3).
Yes, because the wicked seem to prosper in the
world they conclude that they are safe, and that the labor of virtue is all
in vain. This they openly confess by the mouth of the prophet Malachias,
saying, "He laboreth in vain that serveth God; and what profit is it
that we have kept His ordinances, and that we have walked sorrowful before
the Lord of hosts? Wherefore now we call the proud people happy, for they
that work wickedness are built up, and they have tempted God and are
preserved." (Mal. 3:14-15). This is the language of the
reprobate, and is the most powerful motive which impels them to continue in
sin; for, in the words of St. Ambrose, "They find it too difficult to
buy hopes at the cost of dangers, to sacrifice present pleasures to future
blessings." To destroy this serious error I know nothing better than
the touching words of Our Saviour weeping over Jerusalem: "If thou
also hadst known, and that in this thy day, the things that are for thy
peace; but now they are hidden from thy eyes." (Lk. 19:42).
Our Divine Lord considered the advantages which
this people had received from Him; the happiness He had reserved for them;
and the ingratitude with which they rejected Him when He came to them in
meekness and humility. For this they were to lose not only the treasures
and graces of His coming, but even their temporal power and freedom. This
it was which caused Him to shed such bitter tears and to foretell the
unhappy fate that was in store for His people. His words apply with great
force to our present subject.
Consider the inestimable riches, the abundant
graces, which accompany virtue; yet it is a stranger, a wanderer on earth.
Men seem to be blind to these divine blessings. Have we not, therefore,
reason to weep and to cry out, O man, if thou also hadst known? If
thou hadst known the peace, the light, the strength, the sweetness, and the
riches of virtue, thou wouldst have opened thy heart to it, thou wouldst
have spared no sacrifice to win it. But these blessings are hidden from
worldlings, who regard only the humble exterior of virtue, and, having
never experienced its unutterable sweetness, they conclude that it contains
nothing but what is sad and repulsive.
They know not that Christian philosophy is like
its Divine Founder, who, though exteriorly the humblest of men, was
nevertheless God and sovereign Lord of all things. Hence the Apostle tells
the faithful that they are dead to the world, that their "life is hid
with Christ in God." (Col. 3:3). Just as the glory of Christ
was hidden by the veil of His humanity, so should the glory of His faithful
followers be concealed in this world. We read that the ancients made
certain images, called Silenes, which were rough and coarse exteriorly, but
most curiously and ingeniously wrought within. The ignorant stopped at the
exterior and saw nothing to prize, but those who understood their
construction looked within and were captivated by the beauty they there
beheld. Such have been the lives of the prophets, the Apostles, and all
true Christians, for such was the life of their Divine Model.
If you still tell me that the path of virtue is
rugged, that its duties are difficult, I beg you to consider the abundant
and powerful aids which God gives you. Such are the infused virtues,
interior graces, the gifts of the Holy Ghost, the sacraments of the New Law,
with other divine favors, which are to us like sails to a ship, or wings to
a bird, to help us on our voyage to eternity. Reflect upon the very name
and nature of virtue. It is a noble habit, which, like all other habits,
ought to make us act with facility and pleasure. Remember also that Christ
has promised His followers not only the riches of glory, but those of
grace: the former for the life to come, the latter for this present life.
"The Lord," says the prophet, "will give grace and glory."
(Ps. 83:12). The treasures of grace are for this life, and the
riches of glory are for the next.
Consider further with what care God provides for
the necessities of all creatures. How generously He supplies even the
smallest creatures with all that is necessary to the end for which they
were created! Is it not unreasonable then, to think that He will disregard
the necessities of man, the most important of which is virtue, and leave
him a prey to his weak will, his darkened understanding, and his corrupt
nature? The world and the prince of darkness are most assiduous in
procuring vain pleasures and joys for those who serve them. Can you doubt,
then, that God will grant refreshment, light, and peace to His faithful in
the midst of the labors performed for Him? What did God wish to teach us by
the words of the prophet: "You shall return, and shall see the
difference between the just and the wicked, and between him that serveth
God and him that serveth him not." (Mal. 3:18). Was it not that
if we would be converted we would see and know, even in this life, the
rewards of the good, "the difference between the just and the
wicked"? We would behold the contrast between the true riches of the
just and the poverty of the wicked; between the joy of the former and the misery
of the latter; between the peace of the one and the conflicts of the other;
between the light with which the good are surrounded and the darkness by
which the wicked are enveloped. Experience will show you the real value of
virtue and how far it exceeds your former anticipations.
Upon another occasion God replied in like manner
to men who, having been deceived by appearances, ridiculed the virtuous,
saying, "Let the Lord be glorified, and we shall see in your
joy." (Is. 66:5). After depicting the torments which God's
justice prepares for the wicked, Isaias thus describes the happiness
reserved for the just: "Rejoice with Jerusalem, and be glad with her,
all ye that love her. Rejoice for joy with her, all you that mourn for her.
That you may suck, and be filled with the breasts of her consolation; that
you may milk out, and flow with delights, from the abundance of her glory.
For thus saith the Lord: Behold I will bring upon her as it were a river of
peace, and as an overflowing torrent, the glory of the Gentiles, which you
shall suck; you shall be carried at the breasts, and upon the knees they
shall caress you. As one whom the mother caresseth, so will I comfort you,
and you shall be comforted in Jerusalem. And you shall see, and your heart
shall rejoice, and your bones shall flourish like an herb, and the hand of
the Lord shall be known to his servants
" (Is. 66:10-14). Yes,
"the hand of the Lord shall be known to his servants"; for as men
by the beauties and wonders of the universe judge of the infinite beauty and
omnipotence of God, so shall the just recognize the infinite love and
goodness of God in the incomparable joys and favors which He will bestow
upon them.
As a further proof of what has been said, I will
add the remarkable words uttered by Our Saviour when St. Peter asked what
reward they would have for leaving all things for love of Him: "Amen I
say to you, there is no man who hath left house, or brethren, or sisters,
or father, or mother, or children, or lands for my sake and for the gospel,
who shall not receive a hundred times as much, now in this time
and in
the world to come life everlasting." (Mk. 10:29-30). Mark how
explicitly the rewards of this life and the next are distinguished. Nor can
we doubt these words, for they are those of Him who has said, "Heaven
and earth shall pass away,' but my words shall not pass away."
And what is this hundredfold which the just
receive in this life? Honors, riches, titles, and dignities are not their
portion; the greater number of the just lead hidden, obscure lives,
forgotten by the world and overwhelmed with infirmities. How, then, does
God fulfill His infallible promise to give them a hundredfold even in this
life? Ah! It is not with the perishable goods of this world that He will
reward His servants.
Joy and peace and happiness are the spiritual
treasures with which the liberality of our God enriches those who love Him.
These are the blessings which the world does not know, and which the wealth
of the world can never buy. And how fitting this is; for as man does not
live by bread alone, so the craving of his soul cannot be satisfied by
anything short of spiritual blessings.
Study the lives of the saints, and you will see
that they have received the hundredfold promised in this life. In exchange
for the false riches which they forsook, they received true riches which
they can bear with them to eternity. For the turmoil and conflicts of the
world, they received that "peace which surpasseth all
understanding." Their tears, their fasting, and their prayers brought
them more joy and consolation than they could ever hope to obtain from the
fleeting pleasures of this life.
If, then, you have forsaken an earthly father
for love of God, your Heavenly Father will receive you as His child, and
make you His heir to an everlasting inheritance. If you have despised
earthly pleasures for love of Him, He will fill you with the incomparable
sweetness of heavenly consolations. The eyes of your soul will be opened,
and you will love and cherish what formerly frightened you. What was The
formerly bitter will become sweet; and, enlightened by grace, you will see
the emptiness of worldly joys, and you will learn to relish the delights of
God's love. Thus does He manifest His merciful goodness; thus does He
fulfill His promise to us.
The annals of the Cistercian Order mention an
incident which, in connection with our subject, is worth recording.
Arnulph, a man of prominence in Flanders, who was strongly wedded to the
things of this world, was converted by the preaching of St. Bernard. He was
so touched by grace that he became a Cistercian monk. On a certain occasion
he fell dangerously sick and remained unconscious for some time. The monks,
believing him to be dying, administered Extreme Unction. But soon after,
his consciousness returned, and he broke out into transports of praise,
frequently repeating, "How true are Thy words, O merciful Jesus!"
To the questions of his brethren he continued to repeat, "How true are
Thy words, O merciful Jesus!" Some of them remarked that pain had made
him delirious. "No, my brethren," he exclaimed; "I am
conscious, I am in full possession of my senses, and again I assure you
that all the words Jesus has uttered are true."
"But we do not doubt this," said the
monks; "why do you repeat it so often?"
"God tells us in the Gospel," he
answered, "that he who forsakes earthly affections for love of Him
shall receive a hundredfold in this world, and in the world to come, life
everlasting, and I have already experienced the truth of His promise. Great
as my present pains are, I would not exchange them, with the anticipation
of heavenly sweetness which they have procured me, for a hundred or a
thousand fold of the pleasures I forsook in the world. If a guilty sinner
like me receives such sweetness and consolation in the midst of his pains,
what must be the joys of perfect souls?" The monks marveled to hear a
man of no learning speak so wisely, but recognized in his words the
inspiration of the Holy Spirit.
Therefore, we must conclude that the just,
though deprived of earthly blessings, enjoy the rewards promised to virtue
in this life. To convince you more fully of this we shall treat in the
following chapters of the twelve privileges attached to virtue in this
world. Taken as a whole, they are the twelfth motive for practicing virtue.
We shall treat of each, however, in a separate chapter. Though some
experience in the practice of virtue is necessary to comprehend what we are
about to say, yet the want of it may be supplied by our faith in the Holy
Scriptures, which firmly establish the doctrine we are teaching.
CHAPTER 12
The First Privilege of Virtue: God's
fatherly Care of the Just
The greatest privilege attached to virtue is the
care which God exercises over those who serve Him. From this, as from a
fountainhead, flow all other favors. Though God's providence is extended to
all His creatures, yet He manifests a special care for His faithful
servants. To appreciate the greatness and goodness of God's providence we
must have experienced it, or attentively studied the Holy Scriptures,
which, from the beginning to the end, treat either directly or indirectly
of God's care for His creatures.
Throughout the Bible we behold two
characteristic features: on the one hand God commanding man to obey Him,
and on the other promising him, in return for this obedience, inestimable
rewards. To those who disobey, He threatens the severest torments. This
doctrine is so distributed through the Bible that all the moral books
contain God's commands and promises and threats, while the historical books
record the fulfillment of the same, manifesting how differently God deals
with the just and with the wicked. All that God commands us is to love and
obey Him, and in return He offers us inestimable blessings for this life
and the next.
The most important of these blessings is the
fatherly love and care with which He watches over His children. His
solicitude for them exceeds that of any earthly father. What man ever
reserved for his children an inheritance comparable to that of eternal glory?
What man ever suffered for his children the torments endured by Our
Saviour? At no less a price than the last drop of His Blood He purchased
the Kingdom of Heaven. What can equal His constant care for us? We are ever
present to His mind, and He constantly helps and supports us in all the
labors of life. "Thou hast upheld me by reason of my innocence,"
says David, "and hast established me in thy sight forever." (Ps.
40:13). And again: "The eyes of the Lord are upon the just, and his
ears unto their prayers. But the countenance of the Lord is against them
that do evil things: to cut off the remembrance of them from the
earth." (Ps. 33:16-17).
As the greatest reward of the Christian in this
life is God's fatherly care, and as our joy and confidence must increase in
proportion to our faith in this providence, we shall add here a few
passages from Scripture in proof of this doctrine. In Ecclesiasticus
we read, "The eyes of the Lord are upon them that fear him; he is
their powerful protector, and strong stay, a defence from the heat, and a
cover from the sun at noon; a preservation from stumbling, and a help from
falling; he raiseth up the soul, and enlighteneth the eyes, and giveth
health, life, and blessing." (Ecclus. 34:19-20).
"With the Lord," says the prophet,
"shall the steps of a man be directed, and he shall like well his way.
When he shall fall he shall not be bruised, for the Lord putteth his hand
under him." (Ps. 36:23-24). And he says again: "Many are
the afflictions of the just, but out of them all will the Lord deliver
them. The Lord keepeth all their bones; not one of them shall be
broken." (Ps. 33:20-21). This providence is still more strongly
set forth in the Gospel, where Our Saviour affirms that not a hair of the
just shall perish. (Cf. Lk. 21:18). Even stronger is His assurance
expressed by the mouth of His prophet: "He that toucheth you toucheth
the apple of my eye." (Zach. 2:8).
Besides this care which He Himself has for us,
"He hath given his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy
ways. In their hands they shall bear thee up, lest thou dash thy foot
against a stone." (Ps. 90:11-12). Thus the mission of these
pure spirits is to help the just, who are their younger brethren, to walk
in the way of piety. Nor does their ministry cease at death, for we read in
St. Luke that the holy beggar Lazarus was carried by angels into Abraham's
bosom. (Cf. Lk. 16:22). The royal prophet tells us that "the
angel of the Lord shall encamp round about them that fear him, and shall
deliver them." (Ps. 33:8).
We find another illustration of God's
guardianship and defence of the just in the Fourth Book of Kings (4Kg.
6), where we are told that when the servant of Eliseus feared for his
master, against whom the King of Syria with all his army advanced, the
prophet begged the Lord to open the eyes of his servant, to show him that
there were as many for Eliseus as there were coming against him. The
prophet's prayer was heard, and the servants beheld the mountain full of
horses and chariots of fire, and in the midst of them Eliseus. Does not the
Holy Spirit will to teach us by these symbols the care with which God
surrounds the just?
This protection not only delivers the just from
evil and leads them to good, but turns to their profit the sins into which
they are sometimes permitted to fall. For after a fall they acquire greater
prudence, greater humility, and love God more tenderly for pardoning their
offences and delivering them from their evils. Hence the Apostle tells us,
"All things work together unto good" to them that love God. (Rom.
8:28).
And this protection God extends to the children
of the just and to all their posterity, as He Himself assures us, saying,
"I am the Lord thy God, mighty, jealous, visiting the iniquity of the
fathers upon the children, unto the third and fourth generation of them
that hate me; and showing mercy unto thousands to them that love me and
keep my commandments." (Ex. 20:5-6). His words are verified in
His treatment of the house of David, for whose sake He would not destroy
his posterity, though they several times merited it by their crimes.
No less striking was His mercy to the children
of Abraham, for whose sake He repeatedly pardoned them. He even promised
that Ismael, Abraham's son, though born of a bondwoman, should
"increase and multiply exceedingly," and grow into a great
nation. (Gen. 17:20). He protected even the holy patriarch's
servant, whom He guided in his journey and instructed in the means he
should adopt to procure a wife for Isaac. He is not only merciful to
servants for the sake of a good master, but He even blesses wicked masters
because of just servants, as we see in the history of Joseph, whose master
God visited with prosperity because of the virtuous youth who abode in his
house. Who, then, would not be devoted to so generous, so grateful a
Master, who watches so carefully over the interest of His servants?
Numerous are the titles which the Holy
Scriptures use to express God's providence. The one most frequently
recurring is the sweet name of Father, which we find not only in the Gospel
but also throughout the Old Testament. Thus the Psalmist says, "As a
father hath compassion on his children, so hath the Lord compassion on them
that fear him; for he knoweth our frame, he remembereth that we are
dust." (Ps. 102: 13-14).
But because the love of a mother is deeper and
more tender than that of a father, God makes use of it to express His care
and solicitude for the just. "Can a woman," He says by the mouth
of His prophet, "forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son
of her womb? And if she should forget, yet will not I forget thee. Behold,
I have graven thee in my hands; thy walls are always before my eyes."
(Is. 49:15-16). What sweeter or more tender assurances of love could
God express?
And shall we continue blind to so many proofs of
His tenderness? And not content with illustrating His love for us by that
of a mother, He compares His watchfulness to that of the eagle, a creature
noted for its devotion to its young, saying by Moses, "As the eagle
enticing her young to fly, and hovering over them, he spread his wings, and
hath taken him and carried him on his shoulders." (Deut. 32:11
). Even more forcibly did Moses express the paternal goodness of God when
he told the Israelites, "The Lord thy God hath carried thee, as a man
is wont to carry his little son, all the way that you have come, until you
came to this place." (Deut. 1:31 ).
As our Father, God does not disdain to call us
His children, His cherished children, as the prophet Jeremias attests when,
speaking in the name of God, he says, "Surely Ephraim is an honorable
son to me, surely he is a tender child; for since I spoke of him, I will
still remember him. Therefore are my bowels troubled for him; pitying I
will pity him." (Jer. 31:20). Let us ponder these words, which
are uttered by God Himself, that they may inflame our hearts and move us to
make some return for His affectionate tenderness to us.
It is an illustration of this same providence
that God assumes the title of Shepherd. "I am the good shepherd,"
He tells us; "and I know mine, and mine know me." (Jn.
10:14). How dost Thou know them, O Lord? "As the Father knoweth me,
and I know the Father." (Jn. 10:15). Oh! Blessed care! Oh!
Sovereign providence! What happiness is comparable to this?
Hear the prophet Ezechiel, speaking in the
person of God, and beautifully describing His loving watchfulness over us:
"Behold I myself will seek my sheep, and will visit them. As the
shepherd visiteth his flock in the day when he shall be in the midst of his
sheep that were scattered, so will I visit my sheep, and will deliver them
out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark
day. And I will bring them out from the peoples, and will gather them out
of the countries, and will bring them to their own land; and I will feed
them in the mountains of Israel, by the rivers, and in all the habitations
of the land. I will feed them in the most fruitful pastures, and their
pastures shall be in the high mountains of Israel. There shall they rest on
the green grass, and be fed in fat pastures upon the mountains of Israel. I
will feed my sheep; and I will cause them to lie down, saith the Lord God.
I will seek that which was lost, and that which was driven away I will
bring again; and I will bind up that which was broken, and I will
strengthen that which was weak, and that which was fat and strong I will
preserve; and I will feed them in judgment" (Ezech. 34:11-17)
that is, with great care and tenderness.
"I will make a covenant of peace with
them," the prophet continues, "and will cause the evil beasts to
cease out of the land; and they that dwell in the wilderness shall sleep
secure in the forests. And I will make them a blessing round about my hill;
and I will send down the rain in its season. There shall be showers of
blessing." (Ezech. 34: 25-26). In what stronger terms could God
express the tenderness of His love? It is needless to say that the flock
mentioned represents the just, and the fat lands and pastures the spiritual
riches and treasures with which God surrounds them. The Holy Spirit makes
use of the same touching figure again in the Twenty-second Psalm, where the
different offices of a shepherd are portrayed.
God is our Shepherd, because He guides us; He is
also our King, because He protects us; our Master, because He instructs us;
our Physician, because He heals us; and our Guardian, because He watches
over us. Holy Scripture is full of these names. But the tenderest of all,
the one which best expresses His love, is that of Spouse, which occurs most
frequently in the Canticles of Canticles, though mentioned many times in
other parts of the Scriptures. With this name would He have even sinners
invoke Him: "From this time call to me: Thou art my father, the guide
of my virginity." (Jer. 3:4).
But why seek in Scripture various names? Cannot
every name expressive of good be applied to Our Saviour? Does not he who
seeks and loves Him find in Him the fulfillment of all his desires? Hence,
St. Ambrose says, "We possess all things in Christ, or rather Christ
is all things to us. If you would be healed of your wounds, He is a
Physician; if you thirst, He is a living Fountain; if you fear death, He is
your Life; if you are weary of the burden of sin, He is your Justification;
if you hate darkness, He is uncreated Light; if you would reach Heaven, He
is the Way; if you hunger, He is your Food." (De Virg. L.3).
Behold how numerous are the titles which represent this one and indivisible
God, who is all things to us for the healing of our innumerable
infirmities.
We have selected a few of the passages of
Scripture bearing on our subject, to comfort the just and to win and
encourage souls who have not yet begun to serve God. These consoling truths
will support them in labor; will reassure them in danger; will comfort them
m tribulation; will inflame them with love for so good a Master, and impel
them to give themselves wholly to the service of Him who gives Himself so
completely to them. Thus we see that the principal foundation of the
Christian life is the practical knowledge of this truth.
What are all the promises of the world compared
to the assurance and hopes contained in these blessed titles? How much
reason have they to rejoice who are the objects of the love of which the
Scriptures speak in such beautiful terms! "Be glad in the Lord,"
says the prophet, "and rejoice, ye just; and glory, all ye right of
heart." (Ps. 31: 11). Yes, let others rejoice in honors, in
riches, or in dignities; but you who possess God for your portion enjoy an inheritance
which exceeds all other blessings as far as God exceeds all created things.
"They have called the people happy," says the psalmist,
"that hath these things; but happy is that people whose God is the
Lord." (Ps. 143:15).
Why, O prophet? Because in possessing God all
things are possessed. Therefore, though I am a king and the ruler of a
great nation, I will glory only in the Lord. How, then, can men refuse to
serve Him who is the Source of all blessings? "What iniquity have your
fathers found in me," God asks by the mouth of His prophet, "that
they are gone far from me, and have walked after vanity, and are become
vain? Am I become a wilderness to Israel, or a lateward springing
land?" (Jer. 2:5,31). If God complains so bitterly of the
ingratitude of a people who had received from Him but temporal favors, how
much more reason has He to reproach us, upon whom He has lavished so many
spiritual and divine blessings!
If unmoved by the loving providence of God
towards the just, at least be not insensible to the rigor with which He
punishes the wicked, to whom His justice is meted out according to their
own measure. For if they forget their Creator, He will forget them. If they
despise Him, He will despise them. How miserable will their condition then
be! They will be as a school without a master, a ship without a rudder, a
flock without a shepherd. "I will not feed you," God says;
"that which dieth, let it die; and that which is cut off, let it be
cut off. Let the rest devour every one the flesh of his neighbor." (Zach.
11:9). "I will hide my face from them, and will consider what their
last end shall be." (Deut. 32:20).
The just punishment inflicted by God on the
wicked is still more plainly declared in Isaias. The prophet speaks of his
people under the figure of a vine which has been carefully pruned and
dressed, but has failed to bear fruit. God, therefore, pronounces sentence
against it: "I will show you what I will do to my vineyard. I will
take away the hedge thereof, and it shall be wasted. I will break down the
wall thereof, and it shall be trodden down. And I will make it desolate; it
shall not be pruned, and it shall not be digged; but briers and thorns
shall come up; and I will command the clouds to rain no rain upon it."
(Is. 5:5-6). That is, God will take from man all the efficacious
help and protection which he ungratefully refused, and will leave him to
inevitable ruin and destruction.
What greater misfortune can befall a man than to
be thus deprived of God's care in a world beset with dangers? With what
arms will a creature so frail, helpless, and blind resist the attacks of
the numerous enemies that assail him? Where will he find strength to resist
them? Who will enlighten him, to enable him to avoid their snares? Without
the divine assistance, how can he avoid destruction?
But the punishment of the wicked does not end
here. God not only abandons them to their weakness, but scourges them with
His justice, so that the eyes which hitherto watched for their happiness
now look unmoved upon their ruin. This God Himself tells us by the mouth of
the prophet:
"I will set my eyes upon them for evil, and
not for good" (Amos 9:4) that is, the providence which
hitherto watched for their defence will now work for vengeance on their
crimes and disorders.
Even more expressive is the language of Osee:
"I will be like a moth to Ephraim, and like rottenness to the house of
Juda. I will be like a lioness to Ephraim, and like a lion's whelp to the
house of Juda: I, I will catch, and go; I will take away, and there is none
that can rescue." (Osee 5:12,14). Here also the prophet Amos,
who, after telling us that God will put the wicked to the sword for their
sins of covetousness, thus continues: "They shall flee, and he that
shall flee of them shall not be delivered. Though they go down even to
hell, thence shall my hand bring them out; and though they climb up to
heaven, thence will I bring them down. And though they be hid in the top of
Carmel, I will search and take them away from there; and though they hide
themselves in the depth of the sea, there will I command the serpent, and
he shall bite them. And if they go into captivity before their enemies,
there will I command the sword, and it shall kill them. And I will set my
eyes upon them for evil, and not for good." (Amos 9:1-4).
Who can read these words, remembering that they
are uttered by God, and not tremble at the misfortune of having an enemy so
powerful and so relentless in seeking his destruction? What rest or peace
can he enjoy who knows that God's eyes are upon him with wrath and
indignation? If it be so great a calamity to lose God's love, what must it
be to have His providence armed against you; to have turned against you
that sword which was formerly drawn in your defence; to have your
destruction now viewed without emotion by those eyes which formerly watched
so solicitously for your welfare; to have that arm which hitherto sustained
you now stretched forth to annihilate you; to have that Heart which in the
time of your goodness breathed but love and peace fox you now filled with
projects for your abasement; to have your shield and defence changed into a
moth to consume you, a roaring lion to devour you? Who can sleep securely,
knowing that God is over him like the rod of Jeremias to chastise him? Who
can thwart the designs of God? What power can resist His arm? "Who
hath resisted him," says Job, "and hath had peace?" (Job
9:4).
Numerous are the passages in Scripture in which
God threatened the withdrawal of His providence as one of the most terrible
punishments which He could inflict upon the sinner. "My people heard
not my voice," He says, "and Israel hearkened not to me. So I let
them go according to the desires of their heart. They shall walk in their
own inventions." (Ps. 80:12-13). Abandoned to the desires of
their corrupt hearts, they will proceed from disorder to disorder until
their ruin is accomplished. What, then, is man without God, but a garden
without a gardener, a ship without a pilot, a state without a ruler, an
army without a general, a body without a soul?
Behold, dear Christian, how God's providence
encompasses you. If you are not incited to fidelity through gratitude for
His paternal care, at least the fear of abandonment by Him should impel you
to serve Him. For many are moved by threats and the fear of punishment,
while they remain utterly insensible to the hope of favor or reward.
CHAPTER 13
The Second Privilege of Virtue:
The Grace with which the Holy Spirit
fills Devout Souls
God's fatherly providence, of which we have just
been treating, is the source of all the favors and privileges which He
bestows upon those who serve Him. For it belongs to this providence to
furnish man with all the means necessary for his perfection and happiness.
The most important of these means is the grace
of the Holy Ghost, which in its turn is the source of all other heavenly
gifts. This is the garment with which the good father in the parable
ordered the prodigal to be clothed. But, that we may have a clearer idea of
it, let us see how theologians define it. Divine grace, they tell us, is a
participation of the divine nature, that is, of God's sanctity, purity, and
greatness, by virtue of which man is despoiled of the baseness and
corruption of his nature and is clothed with the beauty and nobility of
Jesus Christ.
Holy writers illustrate this by a familiar
example. A piece of iron, when taken out of the fire, though it still
continues to be iron, resembles the fire on account of its heat and
brightness. Grace acts in like manner. As a divine quality it is infused
into the soul, and so transforms man into God that, without ceasing to be
man, he assumes the virtues and purity of God. This was the change wrought
in St. Paul when he said, "I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in
me." (Gal. 2:20).
Grace may also be called a supernatural and
divine form, by means of which man lives as becomes his origin, which is
also supernatural and divine.
Grace is, moreover, a spiritual dress, a chaste
ornament of the soul, which renders her so beautiful in the eyes of God
that He adopts her as His child, or rather accepts her as His spouse. It
was this adornment which made the prophet rejoice when he said, "I
will greatly rejoice in the Lord, and my soul shall be joyful in my God.
For he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation; and with the robe of
justice he hath covered me, as a bridegroom decked with a crown, and as a
bride adorned with her jewels." (Is. 61:10). Such are the gifts
with which the Holy Spirit enriches and adorns the soul. This is the
garment of various colors in which the king's daughter was gloriously
arrayed. (Ps. 44:14). For from grace proceeds that glorious variety
of virtues which forms the power and beauty of the soul.
From what has been said we can judge of the
effects of grace in a soul. It renders her so beautiful, as we have said,
that God, who is captivated with her loveliness, chooses her for His
spouse, His temple, and His dwelling.
Another effect of grace is the strength which it
imparts to the soul. This beauty and this strength are extolled in the
Canticle of Canticles, in which the angels exclaim, "Who is she that
cometh forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun,
terrible as an army set in array?" (Cant. 6:9).
Grace, then, is like an invulnerable armor. So
strong does it render man that, according to St. Thomas, the least degree
of grace suffices to triumph over all sin. (S. T. III, Q. 62, a. 6).
A third effect of grace is to render man so
pleasing to God that every good action performed by him contributes to merit
for him eternal life. By good we here mean not only acts of virtue, but all
those which arise from the necessities of nature, such as eating, drinking,
and sleeping, which, by an upright intention, become pleasing to God and
meritorious in His sight. In addition to all this, grace makes man the
adopted child of God and heir to His kingdom.
Our Saviour showed the greatness of this
privilege when, seeing His Apostles rejoicing that evil spirits obeyed them
in His name, He said, Rejoice not in this, that spirits are subject unto
you; but rejoice in this, that your names are written in heaven." (Lk.
10:20).
Grace, finally, qualifies man for all good,
smooths the way to Heaven, makes the yoke of Christ sweet and light, cures
man of his infirmities and lightens his burdens, so that he is enabled to
run in the path of virtue. Moreover, it strengthens all the faculties of
the soul, enlightens the understanding, inflames the heart, moderates the
appetites of the flesh, and constantly stimulates us, so that we may not
relax in the pursuit of virtue. And as all the passions which reside in the
inferior part of the soul are so many breaches in the fortification of
virtue, through which the enemy effects an entrance, grace guards these
avenues of sin with sentinels. These are the infused virtues, each of which
is the opposite of the passion or vice which imperils the peace of the
soul. Thus, temperance resists gluttony, chastity combats impurity,
humility overcomes pride.
But the crowning effect of grace is that it brings
God into our souls, in order to govern us, protect us, and lead us to
Heaven. There God is pleased to abide, like a king in his kingdom, a father
in the bosom of his family, a master with beloved disciples, a shepherd in
the midst of his flock. Since, then, this inestimable pearl, the pledge of
so many other blessings, is the unfailing lot of the virtuous, who will
hesitate to imitate the wisdom of that merchant who sold all he had to
purchase this pearl? (Cf. Matt. 13:45-46).
CHAPTER 14
The Third Privilege of Virtue:
The Supernatural Light and Knowledge
granted to Virtuous Souls
The heavenly light and wisdom with which God
enlightens the just form the third reward of virtue. And this blessing, as
well as all the others, is the effect of that grace which not only rules
our appetites and strengthens our will, but removes the darkness of sin
from our understanding and enables us to know and fulfill our duty.
St. Gregory tells us that ignorance of our duty,
as well as inability to do our duty, are alike punishments of sin. (Moral.
L. 25, c. 9.). Hence, David so frequently repeats, "The Lord is my
light" against ignorance, "the Lord is my salvation" against
weakness. (Ps. 26:1). On the one side He teaches us what we should
desire, and on the other He strengthens us to execute our desires. And both
of these favors are bestowed on us through grace. For in addition to a
habit of faith and infused wisdom which teach us what we are to believe and
practice, grace imparts to us the gifts of the Holy Ghost.
Four of these gifts relate particularly to the
understanding: wisdom, which instructs us in spiritual and sublime things;
knowledge, which informs us of the things of earth and time; understanding,
which helps us appreciate the beauty and harmony of the divine mysteries;
and counsel, which guides and directs us amidst the difficulties which we
encounter in the path of virtue.
These gifts are so many rays of light which
proceed from the divine center of grace, and in Scripture are called an
unction or anointing. "But you have the unction from the Holy One, and
know all things." (1Jn. 2:20). Oil has the double virtue of
giving light and healing, and fitly represents the divine unction which
enlightens the darkness of our understanding and heals the wounds of our will.
This is the oil which exceeds in value the purest balsam, and for which
David rejoiced when he said: Thou, O Lord, hast anointed my head with oil.
(Cf. Ps. 22:5). It is evident that the royal prophet did not speak
here of a material oil, and that by the head, he designated, according to
the interpretation of Didymus, the noblest pan of the soul, or the
understanding, which is illumined and supported by the unction of the Holy
Spirit.
Since it is the property and function of grace
to make us virtuous, we must love virtue and abhor sin, which we cannot do
if the understanding be not divinely enlightened to discern the malice of
sin and the beauty of virtue. For the will, according to philosophers and
theologians, is a blind faculty, incapable of acting without the guidance
of the intellect, which points out the good it should choose and love, and
the evil it should reject and hate. The same is true of fear, of hope, and
of hatred for sin. We can never acquire these sentiments without a just
knowledge of the goodness of God and the malice of sin.
Grace, as you have already learned, causes God
to dwell in our souls; and as God, in the words of St. John, is "the
true light, which enlighteneth every man that cometh into this world"
(Jn. 1:9), the purer a soul is, the brighter will this Light shine
in her just as glass, according as it is clearer, reflects more strongly
the rays of the sun. Hence, St. Augustine calls God the "wisdom of a
purified soul" (De Lib. Arbit., L. 2), because He fills
her with His light, which enables her to apprehend all that is necessary
for salvation.
Nor should this surprise us when we consider
with what care God provides even the brute creation with all that is
necessary for the maintenance of life. For whence is that natural instinct
which teaches the sheep to distinguish among plants those which are
poisonous and those which are wholesome? Who has taught them to run from
the wolf and to follow the dog? Was it not God, the Author of nature?
Since, then, God endows the brute creation with the discernment necessary
for the preservation of animal life, have we not much more reason to feel
that He will communicate to the just the knowledge necessary for the
maintenance of their spiritual life?
This example teaches us not only that such a
knowledge really exists, but also marks the character of this knowledge. It
is not a mere theory or speculation; it is eminently practical. Hence the
difference between knowledge divinely communicated and that which is
acquired in the schools. The latter only illumines the intellect, but the
former, the inspirations of the Holy Ghost, communicates itself to the
will, strengthens it for good, governs and stimulates it. By its
efficacious virtue this divine knowledge penetrates into the depths of the
soul, of t transforms our passions, and remodels us upon the likeness of
Christ. Hence, the Apostle tells us, "The word of God is living and
effectual, and more piercing than any two edged sword, and reaching unto
the division of the soul and spirit" (Heb. 4:12) that is,
separating the spiritual man from the animal man.
This, then, is one of the principal effects of
grace, and one of the most beautiful rewards of virtue in this life. But to
prove this truth more clearly to carnal men, who reluctantly accept it, we
will confirm it by undeniable passages from both the Old and the New
Testament. In the New Testament, Our Saviour tells us, "The Holy
Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things,
and bring all things to your mind, whatsoever I shall have said to
you." (Jn. 14:26). And again, "It is written in the
prophets: And they shall all be taught of God. Every one that
hath heard of the Father, and hath learned, cometh to me." (Jn.
6:45).
Numerous are the passages in the Old Testament which
promise this wisdom to the just. "I am the Lord thy God, that teach
thee profitable things, that govern thee in the way that thou
walkest." (Is. 48:17). "The mouth of the just," says
David, "shall meditate wisdom, and his tongue shall speak
judgment." (Ps. 36:30). Throughout the one hundred and
eighteenth Psalm, how frequent is his prayer for this divine wisdom!
"Blessed art thou, O Lord: teach me thy justifications. Open thou my
eyes, and I will consider the wondrous things of thy law. Give me understanding,
and I will search thy law; and I will keep it with my whole heart."
Shall we not, therefore, appreciate the
happiness and honor of possessing such a Master, from whom we may learn
sublime lessons of immortal wisdom? "If Apollonius," says St.
Jerome, "traversed the greater part of the world to behold Hipparchus
seated upon a golden throne in the midst of his disciples, and explaining
to them the movements of the heavenly bodies, what should not men do to
hear God, from the throne of their hearts, instructing them, not upon the
motions of the heavenly bodies, but how they may advance to the heavenly
kingdom?"
If you would appreciate the value of this
doctrine, hear how it is extolled by the prophet in the psalm from which we
have already quoted: "I have understood more than all my
teachers," he exclaims, "because thy testimonies are my
meditation. I have had understanding above ancients, because I have sought
thy commandments." (Ps. 118:99-100). More expressive still are
the words in which Isaias enumerates the blessings promised to God's
servants: "The Lord will give thee rest continually, and will fill thy
soul with brightness, and deliver thy bones, and thou shalt be like a
watered garden, and like a fountain of water whose waters shall not fail."
(Is. 58:11).
What is this brightness with which God fills
the soul of the just but that clear knowledge of all that is necessary
for salvation? He shows them the beauty of virtue and the deformity of
vice. He reveals to them the vanity of this world, the treasures of grace,
the greatness of eternal glory, and the sweetness of the consolations of
the Holy Spirit. He teaches them to apprehend the goodness of God, the
malice of the evil one, the shortness of life, and the fatal error of those
whose hopes are centered in this world alone. Hence the equanimity of the
just. They are neither puffed up by prosperity nor cast down by adversity.
"A holy man," says Solomon, "continueth in wisdom as the
sun, but a fool is changed as the moon." (Ecclus. 27:12).
Unmoved by the winds of false doctrine, the just man continues steadfast in
Christ, immovable in charity, unswerving in faith.
Be not astonished at the effect of this wisdom,
for it is not earthly, but divine. Is there anything of earth to be
compared with it? "The finest gold shall not purchase it, neither
shall silver be weighed in exchange for it. It cannot be compared with the
most precious stone sardonyx, or the sapphire. The fear of the Lord is
wisdom, and to depart from evil is understanding." (Job 28:15-16,28).
And this wisdom increases in the just, for
Solomon tells us, "The path of the just, as a shining light, goeth
forwards and increaseth even to perfect day" (Prov. 4:18), the
beginning of a blessed eternity, when God's wisdom and beauty will be
revealed to us in all their brightness and power.
This great gift is the portion of the just only,
for the wicked are plunged in an ignorance so intense that it was well
symbolized by the darkness which covered the land of Egypt. The wicked
themselves confess their blindness, "We looked for light, and behold
darkness; brightness, and we have walked in the dark. We have groped for
the wall, like the blind, and we have groped as if we had no eyes; we have
stumbled at noonday as in darkness; we are in dark places as dead
men." (Is. 59:9-10).
What can equal the blindness of him who sells
eternal happiness for the fleeting and bitter pleasures of this
world? How incomprehensible is the ignorance of him who neither fears Hell
nor strives for Heaven; who feels no horror for sin; who disregards the
menaces as well as the promises of God; who makes no preparation for death,
which hourly seizes its victims; who does not see that momentary joys here
are laying up for him eternal torments hereafter! "They have not known
or understood; they walk on in the darkness" (Ps. 81:5) of sin
through this life, and will pass from it to the eternal darkness of the
life to come.
Before concluding this chapter we would make the
following suggestion: Notwithstanding the power and efficacy of this wisdom
with which God fills the souls of the just, no man, however great the light
he has received, should refuse to submit his judgment to his lawful
superiors, especially the authorized teachers and doctors of the Church.
Who ever received greater light than St. Paul, who was raised to the third
heaven; or than Moses, who spoke face to face with God? Yet St. Paul went
to Jerusalem to confer with the Apostles upon the Gospel which he had
received from Christ Himself; and Moses did not disdain to accept the
advice of his father-in-law, Jethro, who was a Gentile.
For the interior aids of grace do not exclude
the exterior succors of the Church. Divine Providence has willed to make
them both an aid to our salvation. As the natural heat of our body is stimulated
by that of the sun, and the healing powers of nature are aided by exterior
remedies, so the light of grace is strengthened by the teaching and
direction of the Church. Whoever refuses, therefore, to humble himself and
submit to her authority will render himself unworthy of any favor from God.
CHAPTER 15
The Fourth Privilege of Virtue:
The Consolations with which the Holy
Spirit visits the Just
We might regard charity, or the love of God, as the
fourth privilege of virtue, particularly as the Apostle accounts it the
first-fruit of the Holy Ghost; but our intention being at present to treat
more of the rewards of virtue than of virtue itself, we shall devote this
chapter to the consolations of the Holy Ghost, and refer to another pan the
consideration of charity, the most noble of virtues.
This fourth privilege of virtue is the effect of
that divine light of which we spoke in the preceding chapter.
This is the teaching of David when he says,
"Light is risen to the just, and joy to the right of heart." (Ps.
96: 11). The Holy Scriptures furnish abundant proof of this truth. If the
path of virtue, O deluded sinner, be as sad and difficult as you represent
it, what does the Psalmist mean when he exclaims, "O how great is the
multitude of thy sweetness, O Lord, which thou hast hidden for them that
fear thee!" (Ps. 30: 20). And again: "My soul shall
rejoice in the Lord, and shall be delighted in his salvation. All my bones
[that is, all the powers of my soul] shall say: Lord, who is like to
thee?" (Ps. 34: 9-10).
Do not these texts clearly tell us of the joy
with which the souls of the just overflow, which penetrates even to the
flesh, and which so inebriates man's whole being that he breaks forth into
transports of holy joy? What earthly pleasure can be compared to this? What
peace, what love, what delight can equal that of which Thou, O my God, art
the inexhaustible source? "The voice of rejoicing and of
salvation," continues the prophet, "is in the tabernacles of the
just." (Ps. 117:15). Yes, only just souls know true joy, true
peace, true consolation.
"Let the just feast and rejoice before God,
and be delighted with gladness." (Ps. 67:4). "They shall
be inebriated with the plenty of thy house, and thou shalt make them drink
of the torrent of thy pleasure." (Ps. 35:9). Could the prophet
more powerfully express the strength and sweetness of these consolations?
They shall be inebriated, he tells us; for as a man overcome by the fumes
of wine is insensible to all outward objects, so the just, who are filled
with the wine of heavenly consolations, are dead to the things of this
world.
"Blessed is the people," he further
says, "that knoweth jubilation." (Ps. 88:16). Many would
perhaps have said, "Blessed are they who abound in wealth, who are
protected by strong walls, and who possess valiant soldiers to defend
them!" But David, who had all these, esteemed only that people happy
who knew by experience what it was to rejoice in God with that joy of
spirit which, according to St. Gregory, cannot find expression in words or
actions. Happy are they who are sufficiently advanced in love for God to
know this jubilation! It is a knowledge which Plato, with all his wisdom,
and Demosthenes, with all his eloquence, could never attain. Since, then,
God is the author of this joy, how great must be its strength and
sweetness! For if His arm be so terrible when stretched forth to chastise,
it is equally tender when extended to caress.
We are told that St. Ephrem was frequently so
overcome with the strength of this divine sweetness that he was forced to
cry out, "Withdraw from me a little, O Lord, for my body faints under
the weight of Thy delights!" (St. John Climachus). Oh! Unspeakable
Goodness! Oh! Sovereign Sweetness, communicating Thyself so prodigally to
Thy creatures that the human heart cannot contain the effusions of Thy
infinite love! In this inebriation of heavenly sweetness the troubles and
trials of the world are forgotten, and the soul is strengthened and
elevated to joys beyond the power of her natural faculties.
Just as water under the action of fire loses its
property of heaviness, and rises in imitation, as it were, of the element
by which it is moved, so the soul inflamed with the fire of divine love
soars to Heaven, the source of this flame, and burns with desire for the
object of her love. "Tell my beloved," she cries, "that I
languish with love." (Cant. 5:8). These joys, which are the
portion of the just in this world, need not excite our wonder, if we
consider all that God endured in His Passion. All His sufferings and
ignominies were for the sinner as well as for the just. Hence, if He
endured so much for the sinner, what will He not do for the happiness of
faithful souls?
The devotion and fidelity of the just still
further enable us to form some conception of the ardor with which God
promotes their happiness. Look into their hearts, and you will find there
not a thought or desire which is not for Him whose glory is the end of all
their actions; that they spare no sacrifice to serve Him who is continually
giving them proofs of His love. If, therefore, frail and inconstant man be
capable of such devotedness, what will God not do for him? Isaias, and
after him St. Paul, tells us that "eye hath not seen, nor ear heard,
neither hath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath
prepared for them that love Him." (Is. 64:4 and 1Cor.
2:9).
We could cite many other passages from Scripture
in proof of this truth, particularly from the Canticle of Canticles, where
these divine consolations are represented, sometimes under the figure of
generous wine which rejoices the heart of man, or as milk sweeter than
honey, containing all strength, and filling the soul with life and joy. But
what we have said will suffice to prove to you the joys which are reserved
for the good, and how far these heavenly consolations exceed the pleasures
of this world. For what comparison can there be between light and darkness,
between Christ and Belial? How can the happiness afforded by a creature be
compared to that which is given by the Creator? That it is particularly in
prayer that just souls enjoy these divine consolations is a truth we now
wish to prove.
God Himself tells us, "The children of the stranger
that adhere to the Lord, to worship him, and to love his name, to be his
servants; every one that keepeth the sabbath from profaning it, and that
holdeth fast my covenant, I will bring them into my holy mount, and will
make them joyful in my house of prayer." (Is. 56:6-7).
Hence St. Lawrence Justinian tells us that the
hearts of the just are inflamed in prayer with love for their Creator; that
they are frequently raised above themselves and transported in spirit to
the abode of the angels, where, in the presence of their God, they unite
their praise to that of the celestial choirs. They weep and rejoice, for
the sighs of their exile mingle with the anticipations of their blessed
country. They feast, but are never filled. They drink, but are never satisfied.
They unceasingly long to be transformed into Thee, O Lord, whom they
contemplate with faith, whom they adore with humility, whom they seek with
desire, whom they possess and enjoy through love.
The powers of their mind are inadequate to
comprehend this happiness, which penetrates their whole being, yet they
tremble to lose it. Even as Jacob wrestled with the angel, so do their
hearts struggle to retain this divine sweetness amid the turmoil and
trouble of this world, crying out with the Apostle, "Lord, it is good
for us to be here." (Matt. 17:4).
When inflamed with this divine fire, the soul
longs to be freed from her prison of clay. She waters her bread with her
tears, that the hour of her deliverance may not be delayed. She mourns that
she has learned so late the enjoyment of these treasures which God has
prepared for all men. She longs to proclaim them in public places, crying
to the deluded victims of this world, "O unhappy people, senseless
men! Whither are you hastening? What is the object of your search? Why will
you not seek happiness at its source? Taste and see that the Lord is sweet;
blessed is the man that hopeth in him." (Ps. 33:9).
O Lord, "What have I in heaven, and besides
thee what do I desire upon earth? For thee my flesh and my heart hath
fainted away; thou are the God of my heart, and the God that is my portion
for ever." (Ps. 72:25-26).
You will probably tell me that these
consolations are reserved for those who are already advanced in virtue. No
doubt these intimate joys of the soul are known only to more perfect souls,
yet the Divine Master grants even beginners ineffable rewards. The
happiness of the prodigal, the rejoicing and feasting which resound in his
father's house, are an image of the spiritual joy which the soul experiences
when she is released from the slavery of the evil one and made an honored
child of Christ.
It is very evident that man, bound by the chains
of the flesh and the allurements of the world, could not trample pleasure
underfoot and resolutely enter the path of virtue, did not God accord him
favors which sweeten all his sacrifices. Therefore, when a soul is resolved
to turn to God, He smooths the way for her, and removes many obstacles that
might cause her to lose courage and fall back.
This is what God did for the children of Israel
when He led them out of the land of Egypt: "When Pharao had sent out
the people, the Lord led them not by way of the land of the Philistines,
which is near, thinking lest perhaps they would repent, if they should see
wars arise against them, and would return into Egypt." (Ex.
13:17).
This same Providence, which guided the
Israelites, continues daily to manifest like care for the faithful,
bringing them out of the slavery of the world and leading them to the
conquest of Heaven, the true promised land.
We find still another figure of this truth in
the Old Testament, where God commanded the first and the last days of the
week to be observed with particular solemnity, thus teaching us that He
rejoices with His children in the beginning as well as in the consummation
of their perfection. Those who are entering the path of virtue are treated
by God with the tenderness and consideration which are shown to children.
The affection of a mother for her younger sons is not greater than that which
she bears those of riper years, yet she tenderly carries the little ones in
her arms, and leaves the older ones to walk by themselves. The latter are
sometimes obliged to earn their food before it is given them, while the
little ones not only receive it unsolicited, but are tenderly fed. This is
a faint image of the loving care with which God surrounds those who are
beginning to serve Him.
It is no argument against this truth that you do
not experience these divine consolations when you think of God. Food is
tasteless to a disordered palate, and for a soul vitiated by sin and
sensual affections this heavenly manna has no relish. Cleanse your soul
with the tears of repentance and then "taste and see that the Lord is
sweet." (Pr. 33:9).
What are all the pleasures of this world
compared to these ineffable consolations? Why will you not begin to be
happy from this moment? "O man!" says Richard of St. Victor,
quoting the words of the Gospel, "since Paradise may be thine, why
dost thou not sell all thy possessions to purchase this pearl of great
price?"
Dear Christian, delay not an affair so
important. Every moment is worth more to you than all the riches of the
universe. Even though you attain this heavenly treasure, you will never
cease to lament the time you have lost, and to cry out with St. Augustine,
"Too late have I known Thee , too late have I loved Thee, O Beauty
ever ancient and ever new!" This illustrious penitent, though he
unceasingly lamented the lateness of his conversion, gave himself to God
with all his heart, and therefore, won an immortal crown. Imitate him, and
thus avoid the unhappy lot of lamenting not only the delay of your
conversion, but even the loss of your crown.
CHAPTER 16
The Fifth Privilege of Virtue: The Peace
of a Good Conscience
God, who gives His creatures all that is
necessary for their perfection, has planted the seed of virtue in the soul
of man, and has endowed him with a natural inclination for good and an
instinctive hatred of evil. This inclination may be weakened and perverted
by a habit of vice, but it can never be totally destroyed.
We find a figure of this truth in Job, where we
see that, in the calamities which befell the holy man, one servant always
escaped to announce the misfortune which had overtaken his master. So the
faithful servant, conscience, always remains with the sinner in the midst
of his disorders to show him what he has lost and the state to which his
sins have reduced him.
This is still another striking proof of that
providence we have been considering, and of the value God attaches to
virtue. He has placed in the center of our souls a guardian that never
sleeps, a monitor that is never silent, a master that never ceases to guide
and sustain us. Epictetus, the Stoic philosopher, was deeply impressed with
this truth when he said that "as fathers are wont to entrust their
children to a tutor who will prudently guard them from vice and lead them
to virtue, so God, after creating man, confides him to the care of that
interior guide which stimulates him to virtue and warns him against
vice."
But conscience, which is such a kind master to
the just, becomes a scourge to the wicked. It tortures them with the
remembrance of their crimes and embitters all their pleasures. Among these
torments of conscience, one of the greatest is the hideousness and
deformity of sin, which is so abominable in itself that a heathen
philosopher once said, "Though I knew that the gods would pardon me if
I sinned, and that men would never know it, yet I would not take upon me a
thing so abominable in itself."
Another rod with which conscience scourges the
wicked is the sight of the evil caused by sin, which, like the blood of
Abel, seems to cry to Heaven for vengeance. Thus we are told that King
Antiochus, during his sickness, was so assailed by the thoughts of his past
crimes that the grief they occasioned brought on his death. "I
remember," he cried, "the evils that I did in Jerusalem, whence
also I took away all the spoils of gold and of silver that were in it, and I
sent to destroy the inhabitants of Juda without cause. I know, therefore,
that for this cause these evils have found me; and behold I perish with
great grief in a strange land." (Mac. 6:12-13).
The shame and dishonor of sin form another
torment for the wicked. It is natural for man to desire esteem, but who can
honor the sinner? It is natural for him to wish to be loved, but who is
there who does not hate iniquity? To these miseries let us add the fear of
death, which never fails to haunt the wicked, unless they are utterly
abandoned. What comfort can they have in reflecting on the uncertainty of
life, the thought of the terrible account they must render, and the
anticipation of eternal torments? Consider the sentiments which such
reflections must awaken in the sinner's breast, and you will form some idea
of the torments of his conscience.
Of these torments one of the friends of Job
spoke when he said, "The wicked man is proud all his days, and the
number of the years of his tyranny is uncertain. The sound of dread is
always in his ears"-the dread sound of an accusing conscience.
"And when there is peace, he always suspecteth treason," for he
cannot escape the alarms and the warning cries of conscience. "He
believeth not that he may return from darkness to light." He believes
it impossible to extricate himself from the terrible darkness which
envelops him; he almost despairs of ever again enjoying the peace of a good
conscience. "Looking round about for the sword on every side," he
is in constant dread of avenging justice. "When he moveth himself to
seek bread he knoweth that the day of darkness is at hand." Even at
table, the place of mirth and rejoicing, the fear of judgment is upon him.
"Tribulation shall terrify him, and
distress shall surround him, as a king that is prepared for the battle. For
he hath stretched out his hand against God, and hath strengthened himself
against the Almighty." (Job 15:22-26).
Thus does Holy Scripture portray the torments of
which the heart of the sinner is both the theater and the victim. A philosopher
has wisely said that by an eternal law of God it is ordained that fear
should be the inseparable companion of evil; and this is confirmed by
Solomon, who tells us, "The wicked man fleeth when no man pursueth,
but the just, bold as a lion, shall be without dread." (Prov.
28:1). This thought is also expressed by St. Augustine, who says,
"Thou hast ordained, O Lord, that every soul in which disorder reigns
should be a torment to herself; and truly it is so." (Conf.
1,12).
Nature teaches us the same. Does not every
creature suffer for infringing the law of its being? Consider the pain
which follows the displacement of a bone in the body. What violence a
creature endures when out of its element! How quickly does sickness follow
when the different parts of the body are not in harmony! Since, then, it
belongs to a rational creature to lead a regular life, how can he escape
suffering, how can he fail to become his own torment, when he disregards
the laws of reason and the order of Divine Providence? "Who hath
resisted God and hath had peace?" (Job 9:4). Hence we see that
creatures who submit to the order of God enjoy a peace and security which
abandon them the moment they resist this divine law. Man, in his innocence,
was absolute master of himself; but after his disobedience he lost his
peaceful empire and began to experience remorse and an interior warfare
against himself.
"Is there any greater torment in this
world," asks St. Ambrose, "than remorse of conscience? Is it not a
misery more to be feared than sickness, than exile, than loss of life or
liberty?" (De Officiis, L.3,4).
"There is nothing," says St. Isidore,
"from which man cannot fly, save from himself. Let him go where he
will, he cannot escape the pursuit of an accusing conscience." The
same Father adds elsewhere, "There is no torment which exceeds that of
a guilty conscience. If, then, you desire to live in peace, live in the
practice of virtue."
This truth is so manifest that even pagan
philosophers acknowledged it. "What doth it avail thee," says
Seneca, "to fly from the conversation of men? For as a good conscience
may call all the world to witness its truth, so a bad conscience will be
tormented by a thousand fears, a thousand anxieties, even in a desert. If
thy action be good all the world may witness it; if it be evil what will it
avail thee to hide it from others, since thou canst not hide it from
thyself? Alas for thee if thou makest no account of such a witness, for its
testimony is worth that of a thousand others." (Epist.97).
"Great," says Cicero, "is the
power of conscience; nothing can more effectually condemn or acquit a man.
It raises the innocent above all fear and keeps the guilty in perpetual
alarm." This is one of the eternal torments of the wicked, for it
begins even in this life and will continue forever in the life to come. It
is the undying worm mentioned by Isaias. (Cf. Is. 66:24).
Having thus seen the sad effects of an evil
conscience, we will be enabled to realize more fully the blessed peace which
the just enjoy.
Virtue shelters them from the remorse and
sufferings which have been described as the lot of the wicked. The
consolations and sweet fruits of the Holy Ghost fill them with joy and
transform the soul into a terrestrial paradise, where He is pleased to take
up His abode. "The joy of a good conscience," says St. Augustine,
"makes the soul a true paradise." (De Gen. ad Lit., L. 12,
c. 34). And elsewhere he says, "Be assured, ye who seek that true
peace promised to a future life, that you may here enjoy it by
anticipation, if you will but love and keep the commandments of Him who
promises this reward; for you will soon find by experience that the fruits
of justice are sweeter than those of iniquity. You will learn that the joys
of virtue, even in the midst of trials and misfortunes, far exceed all the
delights of pleasure and prosperity accompanied by the remorse of a bad
conscience." (Lib. de Cat. 2,9).
Sin, as we have said, finds in its baseness and
enormity its own punishment; so virtue finds in its beauty and worth its
own reward. David teaches us this truth: "The judgments of the Lord
that is, His holy commandments are true, justified in themselves. More to
be desired than gold and precious stones, and sweeter than honey and the
honeycomb." (Ps. 18:10-11). This was his own experience, for he
says, "I have been delighted in the way of thy testimonies, as in all
riches." (Ps. 118:14). The chief cause of this joy is the
dignity and beauty of virtue, which as Plato declares, is incomparably fair
and lovely. Finally, so great are the advantages of a good conscience that,
according to St. Ambrose, they constitute in this life the happiness of the
just.
The ancient philosophers, as we have seen,
though deprived of the light of faith, knew the torments of a guilty
conscience. Nor were they ignorant of the joy of a good Ν conscience, as we
learn from Cicero, who, in his Tusculan Questions, says, "A
life spent in noble and honorable deeds ' brings such consolations with it
that just men are either insensible to the trials of life or feel them very
little." The same author adds elsewhere that virtue has no more
brilliant, no more honorable theater than that in which the applause of
conscience is heard. Socrates, being asked who could live free from passion,
answered, "He who lives virtuously." And Bias, another celebrated
philosopher, gave almost the same reply to a similar question.
"Who," he was asked, "can live without fear?" "He
who has the testimony of a good conscience," he replied. Seneca, in one
of his epistles, wrote, "A wise man is always cheerful and his
cheerfulness comes from a good conscience."
If pagan philosophers, knowing nothing of future
rewards, so justly esteemed the peace of a good conscience, how dearly
should a Christian prize it! This testimony of a good conscience does not,
however, exclude that salutary fear with which we must work out our
salvation; but such a fear, so far from discouraging us, inspires us with
marvelous courage in the fulfillment of our duties. We feel, in the depth
of our hearts, that our confidence is better founded when moderated by this
holy fear, without which it would be only a false security and a vain
presumption.
It was of this privilege that the Apostle spoke
when he said, "Our glory is this, the testimony of our conscience,
that in simplicity of heart and sincerity of God, and not in carnal wisdom,
but in the grace of God, we have conversed in this world." (2Cor.
1:12).
We have endeavored to explain this privilege of
virtue, but, despite all that could be said, there is nothing save
experience that can give us a keen realization of it.
CHAPTER 17
The Sixth Privilege of Virtue: The
Confidence of the Just
The joy of a good conscience is always
accompanied by that blessed hope of which the Apostle speaks when he tells
us to rejoice in hope and to be patient in tribulation. (Cf. Rom.
12:12). This is the rich inheritance of the children of God, their general
refuge in tribulation, and their most efficacious remedy against all the
miseries of life.
Before entering upon this subject we must bear
in mind that as there are two kinds of faith, one barren and dead, the
other living and strengthened by charity, fruitful in good works; so there
are two kinds of hope one barren, which gives the soul no light in
darkness, no strength in weakness, no consolation in tribulation; the other
"lively" (Cf. 1Pet. 1:3), which consoles us in sorrow,
strengthens us in labor, and sustains us in all the dangers and trials of
this world.
This living hope works in the soul many
marvelous effects, which increase according as the charity which
accompanies it becomes more ardent. The first of these effects is the
strength which supports man under the labors of life by holding before his
eyes the eternal reward reserved for him; for, in the opinion of the
saints, the stronger this hope of reward the greater is man's courage in
overcoming obstacles in the path of virtue.
"Hope," says St. Gregory, "fixes
our hearts so steadfastly upon the joys of Heaven that we are insensible to
the miseries of this life." "The hope of future glory,"
Origen tells us, "sustains the just under the trials of life, as the
hope of victory supports the soldier during battle." "If the
furious tempests of the sea," says St. Chrysostom, "cannot daunt
the sailor; if hard frosts and withering blight cannot discourage the
farmer; if neither wounds nor death itself affright the soldier; if neither
falls nor blows dishearten the wrestler, because of the fleeting recompense
they hope from their labors, how much greater should be the courage of a
Christian, who is toiling for an eternal reward! Therefore, consider not
the roughness of the path of virtue, but rather the end to which it leads;
look not upon the pleasures which strew the path of vice, but rather upon the
precipice to which it is hurrying you."
Who is so foolish as willingly to pursue a path,
though strewn with flowers, if it lead to destruction? Who, conversely,
would not choose a rugged and difficult path if it lead to life and
happiness?
Holy Scripture is full of commendations of this
blessed hope. "The eyes of the Lord," the prophet Hanani tells
King Asa, "behold all the earth, and give strength to them that with a
perfect heart trust in him." (2Par. 16:9). "The Lord is
good to them that hope in him, and to the soul that seeketh him." (Lam.
3:25). "The Lord is good, and giveth strength in the day of trouble,
and knoweth them that hope in him." (Nahum 1:7).
"If you return and be quiet, you shall be
saved; in silence and in hope shall your strength be." (Is.
30:15) By silence the prophet here signifies that interior calm and sweet
peace experienced by the soul amid all her troubles, and which is the
result of that hope in God's mercy which expels all fear. "Ye that
fear the Lord, hope in him, and mercy shall come to you for your delight.
My children, behold the generations of men, and know ye that no one ma hath
hoped in the Lord and hath been confounded." (Ecclus. 2:9,11).
"Mercy shall encompass him that hopeth in
the Lord."(Ps. 31:10). Mark the strength of this word encompass,
by son which the prophet teaches us that a virtuous man is shielded by
God's protection, as a king surrounded by his guards. Read the Psalms, and
you will see how beautifully David speaks of the power and merit of divine
hope.
In one of his sermons, St. Bernard dwells at
some length on this virtue, and concludes by saying, "Faith teaches us
that God has inestimable rewards reserved for His faithful servants. Hope
answers, 'It is for me that they are prepared'; and charity, inspired by
hope, cries out, 'I will hasten to possess them.'"
Behold, then, the happy fruits of hope! It is a
port of refuge from the storms of life; it is a buckler against the attacks
of the world; it is a storehouse to supply us in the time of famine; it is
the shade and tent of which Isaias spoke, to protect us from the heat of
summer and the frosts of winter; in fine, it is a remedy for all our evils,
for there is no doubt that all we confidently and justly hope from God will
be granted to us, if for our welfare. Hence St. Cyprian says that God's
mercy is a healing fountain, hope a vessel into which its waters flow.
Therefore, the larger the vessel the more abundantly will we receive of
these waters. God told the children of Israel that every place upon which they
set their feet should be theirs. So every salutary blessing upon which man
fixes his hope will be granted to him. Hope, then, for all blessings, and
you will obtain them.
Thus we see that this virtue is an imitation of
the divine power; for, says St. Bernard, nothing so manifests the power of
God as the omnipotence with which He invests those who hope in Him. Witness
Josue, at whose command the sun stood still; or Ezechiel, who bade King
Ezechias choose whether he would have the sun advance or go backward in its
course, as a sign from God.
In studying the inestimable treasures of hope,
you have some idea of one of the blessings of which the wicked are
deprived. Whatever hope remains to them is dead; destroyed by sin, it can
produce none of the glorious fruits we have been considering. Distrust and
fear as inevitably accompany a bad conscience as the shadow does the body.
Hence the happiness of the sinner is the measure of his hope. He sets his
heart upon the vanities and follies of the world; he rejoices in them; he
glories in them; and in them he hopes in the time of affliction.
It is of such hope that God speaks when He says,
"The hope of the wicked is as dust, which is blown away with the winds,
and as a thin froth which is dispersed by the storm; and a smoke which is
scattered abroad by the wind." (Wis. 5:15). Can you imagine a
weaker or a vainer confidence than this? But it is not only vain, it is
deceptive and injurious. "Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help,
trusting in horses, and putting their confidence in chariots, because they
are many; and in horsemen, because they are very strong; and have not
trusted in the Holy One of Israel, and have not sought after the Lord.
Egypt is man, and not God; and their horses flesh, and not spirit; and the
Lord shall put down his hand, and the helper shall fall, and he that is
helped shall fall, and they shall all be confounded together." (Is.
31:1,3).
Behold, dear Christian, the difference between
the hope of the just and the hope of the wicked. One is of the flesh, the
other of the spirit; one is centered in man, the other in God. And even as
God exceeds man, so does the hope of the just exceed that of the sinner.
Therefore, the prophet exhorts us, "Put not your trust in princes; in
the children of men, in whom there is no salvation. Blessed is he who hath
the God of Jacob for his helper, whose hope is in the Lord his God; who
made heaven and earth, the sea, and all things that are in them." (Ps.
114:3,5-6).
"Some trust in chariots, and some in
horses; but we will call upon the name of the Lord our God. They are bound,
and have fallen; but we are risen, and are set upright." (Ps.
19:8-9). Thus we see that our hopes are realized according to that upon
which they rest in ruin and destruction, or in honor and victory.
Therefore, he whose hope is fixed upon the
things of this world is rightly compared to the man in the Gospel who built
his house upon the sand and beheld it beaten down by the rain and winds;
while he whose hope is fixed upon the things of Heaven is like the man
whose house was built upon a rock, and which stood unshaken amidst the
storms. (Cf. Matt. 7:25).
"Cursed be he," cries out the prophet,
"that trusteth in man, and maketh flesh his arm, and whose heart
departeth from the Lord. For he shall be like tamaric [a barren shrub] in
the desert, and he shall not see when good shall come; but he shall dwell
in dryness in the desert, in a salt land and not inhabited. But blessed be
the man that trusteth in the Lord, and the Lord shall be his confidence;
and he shall be as a tree that is planted by the waters, that spreadeth out
its roots towards moisture; and it shall not fear when the heat cometh. And
the leaf thereof shall be green, and in the time of drought it shall not be
solicitous, neither shall it cease at any time to bring forth fruit."
(Jer. 17:5-9).
Can there be any misery compared to life without
hope? To live without hope is to live without God. If this support be taken
from man, what remains for him? There is no nation, however barbarous, that
has not some knowledge of a god whom they worship and in whom they hope.
When Moses was absent for a short time from the children of Israel, they imagined
themselves without God; and in their ignorance they besought Aaron to give
them a god, for they feared to continue without one. Thus we see that human
nature, though ignorant of the true God, instinctively acknowledges the
necessity of a Supreme Being, and, recognizing its own weakness, turns to
God for assistance and support.
As the ivy clings to a tree, and as woman
naturally depends on man, so human nature in its weakness and poverty seeks
the protection and assistance of God. How deplorable, then, is the
condition of those who deprive themselves of His support! Whither can they
turn for comfort in trials, for relief in sickness? Of whom will they seek
protection in dangers, counsel in difficulties? If the body cannot live
without the soul, how can the soul live without God? If hope, as we have
said, be the anchor of life, how can we trust ourselves without it on the
stormy sea of the world? If hope be our buckler, how can we go without it
into the midst of our foes?
What we have said must sufficiently show us that
an infinite distance separates the hope of the just from that of the
wicked. The hope of the just man is in God, and that of the wicked is in
the staff of Egypt, which breaks and wounds the hand which sought its
support. For when man leans upon such a reed, God wishes to make him
sensible of his error by the sorrow and shame of his fall. We have an
example of this in God's treatment of Moab: "Because thou hast trusted
in thy bulwarks, and in thy treasures, thou also shalt be taken: and Chamos
[the god of the Moabites] shall go into captivity, his priests, and his
princes together." (Jer. 48:7). Consider what a support that is
which brings ruin upon those who invoke it.
Behold, then, dear Christian, how great is this
privilege of hope, which, though it appears one with the special providence
of which we have been treating, differs from it, nevertheless, as the
effect differs from the cause. For though the hope of the just proceeds
from several causes, such as the goodness of God, the truth of His
promises, the merits of Christ, yet its principal foundation is this
paternal providence. It is this which excites our hope; for who could fail
in confidence, knowing the fatherly care that God has for us all?
CHAPTER 18
The Seventh Privilege of Virtue: The True
Liberty of the Just
From the privileges we have been considering,
but particularly from the graces of the Holy Spirit and His divine
consolations, there arises a seventh, though no less marvelous, privilege,
which is true liberty of the soul. The Son of God brought this gift to men;
hence He is called the Redeemer, or Deliverer, for He freed mankind from
the slavery of sin, and restored them to the true liberty of the children
of God. This is one of the greatest of God's favors, one of the most signal
benefits of the Gospel, and one of the principal effects of the Holy Ghost.
"Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty." (2Cor.
3:17). This liberty is one of the most magnificent rewards which God has
promised to His servants in this life: "If you continue in my word,
you shall be my disciples indeed. And you shall know the truth, and the
truth shall make you free."
To this the Jews answered, "We are the seed
of Abraham, and we have never been slaves to any man; how sayest thou: You
shall be free?" Jesus answered them, "Amen, amen I say unto you,
that whosoever committeth sin is the servant of sin. Now the servant
abideth not in the house for ever; but the son abideth for ever. If,
therefore, the son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed." (Jn.
8:31-37).
Our Saviour teaches us by these words that there
are two kinds of liberty. The first is the liberty of those who are
doubtless free in body, but whose souls are enslaved by sin, as Alexander
the Great, who, though master of the world, was a slave to his own vices.
The second is that true liberty which is the portion of those whose souls
are free from the bondage of sin, though their bodies may be held in
chains. Witness the great Apostle, whose mind, despite his fetters, soared
to Heaven, and whose preaching and doctrine freed the world. To such a
condition we unhesitantly give the glorious name of liberty. For the
noblest part of man is the soul; in a measure it constitutes man. The body
is merely matter vivified by the soul. Hence, only he whose soul is at
liberty is truly free, and he whose soul is in bondage, however free his
body may be, possesses only the semblance of liberty.
Now, the sinner is in bondage under sin, the
most cruel of tyrants. The torments of Hell are but the effects of sin;
consider, then, how horrible sin itself must be. It is to this cruel tyrant
that the wicked are enslaved, for Our Saviour tells us, "Whosoever
committeth sin is the servant of sin." (Jn. 8:34). Nor is the
sinner a slave to sin only, but to all that incites him to sin that is,
to the world, the devil, and the flesh with all its disorderly appetites.
These three powers are the sources of all sin, and, therefore, are called
the three enemies of the soul, because they imprison her and surrender her
to a most pitiless master.
The first two powers make use of the flesh, as
Satan made use of Eve, to tempt and incite us to every kind of iniquity.
Therefore, the Apostle calls flesh "sin," giving the name of the
effect to the cause, for there is no evil to which man is not incited by
the flesh. (Rom. 7:25). For this reason theologians term it fomes
peccati that is, the germ and fuel of sin; for, like wool and oil, it
serves to feed the fire of sin. It is more commonly called sensuality, or
concupiscence, which, to speak more plainly, is our sensual appetite.
Hence, St. Basil tells us that our desires are the principal arms with
which the devil makes war upon us; for, carried away by the immoderate
desires of the flesh, we seek to gratify them by any means in our power,
regardless of God's law. From this disorder all sins arise.
This appetite of the flesh is one of the
greatest tyrants to whom, in the language of the Apostle, the sinner has
made himself a slave. By this we do not mean that the sinner loses his free
will, for free will is never lost, however great the multitude of his
crimes. But sin so weakens the will, and so strengthens the appetites of
the flesh, that the stronger naturally prevails over the weaker. What is
there more painful than the consequences of such a victory?
Man possesses a soul made to the image of God, a
mind capable of rising above creatures to the contemplation of God; yet he
despises all these privileges and places himself in subjection to the base
appetites of a flesh corrupted by sin and incited and directed by the
devil. What can man expect from such a guidance, or rather from such a
bondage, but innumerable falls and incomparable misfortunes?
Our souls may be considered as consisting of two
parts, which theologians call the superior and the inferior parts. The
first is the seat of the will and of reason, the natural light with which
God endowed us at creation. This noble and beautiful gift of reason makes
man the image of God and capable of enjoying God, and raises him to a
companionship with the angels. The inferior part of the soul is the seat of
the sensual appetites, which have been given to us to aid us in procuring
the necessities of life and in preserving the human race. But these
appetites are blind they must follow the guidance of reason. They are
unfitted to command, and, therefore, like good stewards, they should act
only in obedience to their master. Alas! How often do we see this order
reversed! How often do we behold the servant become the master!
How many men are so enslaved by their appetites
that they will outrage every law of justice and reason to gratify the
sensual desires of their hearts! They carry their folly still further, and
make the noble faculty of reason wait upon their base appetites and furnish
them with means to attain their unlawful desires. For when man devotes the
powers of his mind to the invention of new fashions in dress, new pleasures
in eating; when he strives to excel his fellow men in wealth and voluptuous
luxuries, does he not turn his soul from the noble and spiritual duties
suited to her nature, and make her the slave of the flesh? When he devotes
his genius to the composition of odes and sonnets to the object of a sinful
love, does he not debase his reason beneath this vile passion? Seneca,
though a pagan, blushed at such degradation, saying, "I was born for
nobler things than to be a slave to ( the flesh." (Epist. 65).
Notwithstanding the folly and enormity of this disorder, it is so common
among us that we give it little attention. As St. Bernard says, "We
are insensible to the odor of our crimes because they are so
numerous." In the country of the Moors no one feels affronted if
called black, because it is the color of all the inhabitants. So where the
vice of drunkenness prevails no one thinks it disgraceful to drink to
excess, notwithstanding the degrading nature of this sin.
Yes, the bondage of the flesh is so general that
few realize its enormity. How complete, therefore, is this servitude, and
how great must be the punishment reserved for one who delivers so noble a
creature as reason into the hands of so cruel a tyrant! It is from this
slavery that the Wise Man prays to be delivered when he asks that the
inordinate desires of the flesh be taken from him, and that he be not given
over to a shameless and foolish mind. (Cf. Ecclus. 23:6).
If you would know the power of this tyranny you
have only to consider the evils it has wrought since the beginning of the
world. I will not set before you the inventions of the poets on this subject,
or the example of their famous hero, Hercules, who, after destroying or
subduing all the monsters of the world, was himself so enslaved by the love
of an impure woman that he abandoned his club for a distaff, and all future
feats of valor, to sit and spin among the maidens of his haughty mistress.
It is a wise invention of the poets to show the arbitrary power this
passion exercises over its victims. Nor will I quote from Holy Scripture
the example of Solomon, the wisest of men, enslaved by sensual affections,
and so far forgetting the true God as to build temples to the idols of his
sinful companions. But I will give you an illustration which, alas, is not
an uncommon occurrence.
Consider, for instance, all that a married woman
risks by abandoning herself to an unlawful love. We choose this passion
from among the rest to show you the strength of the others. She cannot but
know that should her husband discover her crime he may kill her in his
anger, and thus in one moment she will lose her reputation, her children,
her life, her soul, and all that she can desire in this life or the next.
She knows, moreover, that her disgrace will fall upon her children, her
parents, her brothers, her sisters, and all her race; yet so great is the
strength of this passion, or rather the power of this tyrant, that she
tramples all these considerations underfoot to obey its dictates. Was there
ever a master more cruel in his exactions? Can you imagine a more
miserable, a more absolute servitude?
Yet such is the bondage in which the wicked
live. They are seated "in darkness and the shadow of death," says
the prophet, "hungry and bound with chains." (Ps. 106:10).
What is the darkness, if not the deplorable blindness of the wicked, who
neither know themselves nor their Maker, nor the end for which they were
created? They see not the vanity of the things upon which they have set
their hearts, and they are insensible to the bondage in which they live.
What are the chains which bind them so cruelly,
if not the ties of their disorderly affections? And is not this hunger
which consumes them the insatiable desire for things which they can never
obtain?
Not unfrequently the gratification of man's
inordinate desires, so far from satisfying him, only creates other more violent
passions, as we learn from the example of Amnon, the wicked son of David,
who could neither eat nor rest because of his love for Thamar; but he no
sooner obtained possession of her than he hated her even more intensely
than he had loved her. (Cf. 2Kg. 13:1-16).
Such is the condition of all who are enslaved by
this vice. They cease to be masters of themselves; it allows them no rest;
they can neither think nor speak of anything else; it fills their dreams at
night; and nothing, not even the fear of God, the interests of their souls,
the loss of their honor, or life itself, can turn them from their course or
break the guilty chains which bind them. Consider also the jealousy and
suspicions with which they are tormented, and the dangers of body and soul
which they willingly risk for these base pleasures. Was there ever a master
who exercised such cruelty towards a slave as this tyrant inflicts upon the
heart of his victims? Hence we read that "wine and women make wise men
fall off." (Ecclus. 19:2). Most fitly are these two passions
classed together, for the vice of impurity renders a man as little master
of himself, and unfits him for the duties of life, as completely as if
robbed of the use of his senses by wine.
The great Latin poet admirably paints the power
of this passion in the example of Dido, Queen of Carthage. She no sooner
falls in love with Ζneas than she abandons the care of public affairs; the
walls and fortifications of the city are left unfinished; public works are
suspended; the youth are no longer exercised in the noble profession of
arms; the harbors are left defenceless, and the city unprotected. Enslaved
by this tyrannical passion, Dido is unfitted for the duties of her
position; all the powers of her great genius are concentrated upon the
object of her love. Oh! Fatal passion! Oh! Pestilential vice, destroying
families and overthrowing kingdoms! It is the poison of souls, the death of
genius, the folly of old age, the madness of youth, and the bane of
mankind.
But this is not the only vice which reduces man
to slavery. Study one who is a victim to pride or ambition, and see how
eagerly he grasps at honors, how he makes them the end of all his actions.
His house, his servants, his table, his dress, his gait, his bearing, his
principles are all fashioned to excite the applause of the world; his words
and actions are but baits to win admiration. If we wonder at the folly of
the Emperor Domitian, armed with a bodkin and spending his leisure in the
pursuit of flies, how much more astonishing and pitiable it is to see a man
devote not only his leisure but a lifetime to the pursuit of worldly
vanities which cannot but end in smoke! Behold how he enslaves himself! He
cannot do his own will; he cannot dress to please himself; he cannot go
where he chooses; nay, many times he dares not enter a church or converse
with virtuous souls, lest his master, the world, should ridicule him.
To satisfy his ambition he imposes upon himself
innumerable privations; he lives above his income; he squanders his means;
he robs his children of their inheritance, and leaves them only the burden
of his debts and the evil example of his follies. What punishment is more
fitting for such madness than that which we are told a certain king
inflicted upon an ambitious man, whom he condemned to be executed by having
smoke poured into his nostrils till he expired, saying to the unhappy
victim that as he had lived for smoke, so it was fit that he should die by
smoke?
What shall we say of the avaricious man whose
money is his master and his god? Is it not in this idol that he finds his
comfort and his glory? Is it not the end of all his labors, the object of
his hopes? For it does he hesitate to neglect body and soul, to deny
himself the necessities of life? Is he restrained even by the fear of God?
Can such a man be said to be master of his treasures? On the contrary, is
he not their slave as completely as if he were created for his money, and
not his money for him?
Can there be a more terrible slavery? We call a
man a captive who is placed in prison and bound with chains, but his
bondage does not equal that of a man whose soul is the slave of an
inordinate affection. Such a man vainly thinks himself free, but no power
of his soul enjoys true liberty; his free will, weakened by sin, is the
only possession which remains to him. It matters little what fetters bind
man, if the nobler part of his soul be captive. Nor does the fact that he
has voluntarily assumed these chains make his bondage less real or less
ignominious. The sweetness of a poison by no means diminishes its fatal
effects.
A man who is the slave of a passion is
unceasingly tormented by desires which he cannot satisfy and will not curb.
So strong is the bondage of the unhappy victim that when he endeavors to
regain his liberty he meets with such resistance that frequently he
despairs of succeeding and returns to his chains.
If these miserable captives were held by one
chain only, there would be more hope of their deliverance. But how numerous
are the fetters which bind them! Man is subject to many necessities, each
of which excites some desire; therefore, the greater the number of our
inordinate desires, the more numerous our chains. This bondage is stronger
in some than in others: there are men of such tenacious disposition that it
is only with difficulty they reject what has once taken possession of their
imaginations. Others are of a melancholy temperament and cling with gloomy
obstinacy to their desires. Many are so narrow-minded that the most
insignificant object cannot escape their covetousness. This accords with
the saying of Seneca, that to small souls trifles assume vast proportions.
Others, again, are naturally vehement in all their desires; this is
generally the character of women, who, as a philosopher observes, must either
love or hate, for it is difficult for them to observe a just medium.
If the misery of serving one arbitrary master be
so great, what must be the suffering of the unhappy man who is enslaved by
as many masters as there are ungoverned affections in his heart? If the
dignity of man depend upon his reason and free will, what can there be more
fatal to this dignity than passion, which obscures the reason and enslaves
the will? Without these powers he descends to the level of the brute.
From this miserable slavery the Son of God has
delivered us. By the superabundant grace of God we have been redeemed; by
the sacrifice of the cross we have been purchased. Hence the Apostle tells
us that "our old man [our sensual appetite] is crucified with Christ."
(Rom. 6:6). By the merits of His crucifixion, we have been
strengthened to subdue and crucify our enemies, inflicting upon them the
suffering which they caused us to endure, and reducing to slavery the
tyrants whom we formerly served. Thus do we verify the words of Isaias:
"They shall make them captives that had taken them, and shall subdue
their oppressors." (Is. 14:2). Before the reign of grace, the
flesh ruled the spirit and made it the slave of the most depraved desires.
But strengthened by grace, the spirit rules the flesh and makes it the
docile instrument of the noblest deeds.
We find a forcible illustration of this defeat
of the power of darkness and the triumph of truth in the example of King
Adonibezec, whom the children of Israel put to death after cutting off his
fingers and toes. In the midst of his suffering the unhappy king exclaimed,
"Seventy kings having their fingers and their toes cut off, gathered
up the leavings of the meat under my table; as I have done, so God hath
requitted me." (Jud. 1:7). This cruel tyrant is a figure of the
prince of this world, who has disabled the children of God by robbing them
of the use of their noblest faculties, .thus rendering them powerless to do
any good. They being reduced to so helpless a condition, he throws to them,
from the store of his vile pleasures, what are fitly called crumbs, for the
gratifications which sin brings are never able to satisfy the appetites of
the wicked. See, then, that even of the brutal pleasures for which they
bargained with Satan, their cruel master will not give them sufficient.
Christ came and by His Passion overcame this
enemy and compelled him to endure the same sufferings which he had
inflicted on others. He cut off his members-that is, He deprived him of his
power and bound him hand and foot. Adonibezec, the Holy Scriptures tell us,
suffered death in Jerusalem. In the same city Our Saviour died to destroy
the tyrant sin. It was after this great Sacrifice that men learned to
conquer the world, the flesh, and the devil. Strengthened by the grace
which Christ has purchased for us, neither the pleasures of the world nor
the power of Satan can force them to commit a mortal sin.
You will ask, perhaps, what is the source of
this liberty and the glorious victory which it enables us to gain. After
God, its source is grace, which, by means of the virtues it nourishes in
us, subdues our passions and compels them to submit to the empire of
reason. Certain men are said to charm serpents to such a degree that,
without injuring them or lessening their venom, the snakes are rendered
perfectly harmless. In like manner, grace so charms our passions-the
venomous reptiles of the flesh that, though they continue to exist in our
nature, they can no longer harm us or infect us with their poison.
St. Paul expresses this truth with great
clearness. After speaking at some length of the tyranny of our sensual
appetites, he concludes with the memorable words, "Unhappy man that I
am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" And he answers,
"The grace of God by Jesus Christ our Lord." (Rom. 7:
24,25). The body of death here mentioned by St. Paul is not the natural
death of the body which all must undergo, but "the body of sin" (Rom.
6:6) our sensual appetites, the fruitful source of all our miseries. These
are the tyrants from which the grace of God delivers us.
A second source of this liberty is the joy of a
good conscience and the spiritual consolations experienced by the just.
These so satisfy man's thirst for happiness that he can easily resist the
grosser pleasures of the flesh. Having found the fountain of all happiness,
he desires no other pleasures. As Our Saviour Himself declared: Whoever
will drink of the water that He will give him shall thirst no more. (Cf. Jn.
4:13).
St. Gregory thus develops this text: He who has
experienced the sweetness of the spiritual life rejects the objects of his
sensual love. He generously disposes of his treasures. His heart is
inflamed with a desire for heavenly things. He sees but deformity in the
beauty which formerly allured him. His heart is filled with the water of
life, and, therefore, he has no thirst for the fleeting pleasures of the
world. He finds the Lord of all things, and thus, in a measure, he becomes
the master of all things, for in this one Good every other good is
contained.
Besides these two divine favors, there is
another means by which the liberty of the just is regained. This is the
vigilant care with which the virtuous man unceasingly labors to bring the
flesh under the dominion of reason. The passions are thereby gradually
moderated, and lose that violence with which they formerly attacked the
soul. Habit does much to cause this happy change, but when aided and
confirmed by grace its effects are truly wonderful. Accustomed to the
influence of reason, our passions seem to change their nature. They are no
longer the fierce assailants of our virtue, but rather its submissive
servants.
Hence it is that they who serve God very often
find more pleasure, even sensible pleasure, in recollection, silence, pious
reading, meditation, prayer, and other devout exercises, than in any
worldly amusement. In this happy state the work of subduing the flesh is
rendered very easy. Weakened as it is, the attacks it makes on us serve
only as occasions of new conquests and new merits. Nevertheless, the ease
with which we win these victories should not disarm our prudence or render
us less vigilant in guarding the senses as long as we are on earth, however
perfectly the flesh may be mortified.
These are the principal sources of that
marvelous liberty enjoyed by the just. This liberty inspires us with a new
knowledge of God and confirms us in the practice of virtue. This we learn
from the prophet: "They shall know that I am the Lord when I shall
have broken the bonds of their yoke, and shall have delivered them out of
the hand of those that rule over them." (Ezech. 34:27). St.
Augustine, who experienced the power of this yoke, says, "I was bound
by no other fetters than my own iron will , which was in the possession of
the enemy. With this he held me fast. From it sprang evil desires, and in
satisfying these evil desires I contracted a vicious habit. This habit was
not resisted, and, increasing in strength as time passed, finally became a
necessity, which reduced me to the most cruel servitude." (Conf.
8,5).
When a man who has long been oppressed by the
bondage under which St. Augustine groaned turns to God, and sees his chains
fall from him, his passions quelled, and the yoke which oppressed him lying
at his feet, he cannot but recognize in his deliverance the power of God's
grace. Filled with gratitude, he will cry out with the prophet, "Thou
hast broken my bonds, O Lord! I will sacrifice to thee a sacrifice of
praise, and I will call upon the name of the Lord." (Ps.
115:7).
CHAPTER 19
The Eighth Privilege of Virtue: The Peace
enjoyed by the Just
The liberty of the children of God is the cause
of another privilege of virtue, no less precious than itself the interior
peace and tranquillity which the just enjoy. To understand this more
clearly, we must remember that there are three kinds of peace: peace with
God, peace with our neighbor, and peace with ourselves. Peace with God
consists in the favor and friendship of God, and is one of the results of
justification.
The Apostle, speaking of this peace, says,
"Being justified, therefore, by faith, let us have peace with God
through our Lord Jesus Christ." (Rom. 5:1). Peace with our
neighbor consists in a friendly union with our fellow men, which banishes
from us all ill-will towards them. David enjoyed this peace when he said,
"With them that hated peace I was peaceable; when I spoke to them they
fought against me without cause." (Ps. 119:7). To this peace
St. Paul exhorted the Romans, "As much as is in you, have peace with
all men." (Rom. 12:18). Peace with ourselves is the
tranquillity arising from a good conscience, and the harmony existing
between the spirit and the flesh when the latter has been reduced to
submission to the laws of reason.
We will first consider the agitation and anxiety
of the sinner, in order more keenly to appreciate the blessing of holy
peace. The wicked hearken to the flesh, and, therefore, they are never free
from the disturbance caused by the unceasing and insatiable demands of
their passions. Deprived of God's grace which can alone check their unruly
appetites, they are a prey to innumerable desires. Some hunger for honors,
titles, and dignities, others long for riches, honorable alliances,
amusements, or sensual pleasures.
But none of them will ever be fully satisfied,
for passion is as insatiable as the daughters of the horse-leech, which
continually cry out for more and more. (Cf. Prov. 30:15). This leech
is the gnawing desire of our hearts, and its daughters are necessity and
concupiscence. The first is a real thirst, the second a fictitious thirst;
but both are equally disturbing. Therefore, it is evident that without
virtue man cannot know peace, either in poverty or riches; for in the
former, necessity allows him no ease, and in the latter, sensuality is
continually demanding more. What rest, what peace, can one enjoy in the
midst of ceaseless cries which he cannot satisfy? Could a mother know peace
surrounded by children asking for bread which she could not give them?
This, then, is one of the greatest torments of
the wicked. "They hunger and thirst," says the prophet, "and
their souls faint within them." (Ps. 106:5). Having placed
their happiness in earthly things, they hunger and thirst for them as the
object of all their hope. The fulfillment of desire, says Solomon, is the
tree of life. (Cf. Prov. 8:12). Consequently, there is nothing more
torturing to the wicked than their unsatisfied desires. And the more their
desires are thwarted, the stronger and more intense they become. Their
lives, then, are passed in wretched anxiety, constant war raging within
them.
The prodigal is a forcible illustration of the
unhappy lot of the wicked. Like him, they separate themselves from God and
plunge into every vice. They abuse and squander all that God has given
them. They go into a far country where famine rages; and what is this
country but the world, so far removed from God, where men hunger with
desires which can never be satisfied, where, like ravenous wolves, they are
constantly seeking more? And how do such men understand the duties of life?
They recognize no higher duty than that of feeding swine. To satisfy the
animal within them, to feed their swinish appetites, is their only aim.
If you would be convinced of this, study the
life of a worldling. From morning until night, and from night until
morning, what is the object of his pursuit? Is it not the gratification of
some pleasure of sense, either of sight, of hearing, of taste, or of touch?
Does he not act as if he were a follower of Epicurus and not a disciple of
Christ? Does he seem to be conscious that he possesses any faculty but
those which he has in common with the beasts? For what does he live but to
enjoy the grossest pleasures of the flesh? What is the end of all his
revels, his feasts, his balls, his gallantry, his luxurious couches, his
enervating music, his degrading spectacles, but to afford new delights to
the flesh?
Give all this what name you will fashion,
refinement, elegance in the language of God and the Gospel it is feeding
swine. For as swine love to wallow in the mire, so these depraved hearts
delight to wallow in the mire of sensual pleasures.
But what is most deplorable in this condition is
that a son of such noble origin, born to partake of the Bread of Angels at
God's own table, would feed upon husks which cannot even satisfy his
hunger. In truth, the world cannot gratify its votaries. They are so
numerous that, like swine grunting and fighting for acorns at the foot of
an oak, they quarrel and wrest from one another the pleasures and
gratifications for which they hunger.
This is the miserable condition which David
described when he said, "They wandered in a wilderness, in a place
without water. They were hungry and thirsty; their soul fainted in
them." (Ps. 106:4-5). A terrible characteristic of this hunger
is that it is increased by the gratifications which are meant to appease
it. The poisoned cup of this world kindles in the hearts of the wicked a
fire to which pleasures only add renewed heat. Is it strange that they are
consumed by a burning thirst? Unhappy man! Whence is it that you thirst so
cruelly, if it be not that you "have forsaken the fountain of living
waters, and sought broken cisterns which can hold no water"? (Jer.
2:13). You have mistaken the source of happiness. You wander in a
wilderness, and, therefore, you faint with hunger and thirst.
When Holofernes besieged Bethulia he cut off the
aqueducts, leaving to the besieged but a few little streams which served
only to moisten their lips. The besieged city is an image of your
condition. You have cut yourselves off from the source of living waters,
and you find in creatures the little springs which may moisten your lips,
but, far from allaying your thirst, will only increase it.
The blindness and vehemence of our desires often
make us long for what we cannot possibly obtain; and when, after violent
efforts, the object of our pursuit eludes our grasp, anger is added to our
disappointment, and both combine to throw us into a state of confusion.
This gives rise to that internal warfare mentioned by St. James when he
asks "Whence are wars and contentions among you? Are they not from
your concupiscences, which war in your members? You covet, and have
not." (James 4:1-2). Another lamentable feature of this
condition is that very often when men have attained the summit of their
wishes they are seized with a desire for some other worldly advantage, and
if their caprice is not gratified, all they possess is powerless to comfort
them. Their unsatisfied desire is a continual thorn. It poisons all their
pleasure.
"There is also another evil," says
Solomon, "which I have seen under the sun, and which is frequent among
men. A man to whom God hath given riches, and substance, and honor, and his
soul wanteth nothing of all that he desireth; yet God doth not give him
power to eat thereof, but a stranger shall eat it up. This is vanity and a
great misery." (Eccles. 6:1-2). Does not the Wise Man here
clearly point out the wretched condition of one in the midst of abundance,
and yet unhappy because of his unsatisfied desires?
If such be the condition of those who possess
the goods of the world, how miserable must be the lot of those who are in
need of everything! For the human heart in every state is alike subject to
unruly appetites, is alike the theater of a most bitter warfare which rages
among its opposing passions. When these importunate desires are unsatisfied
at every point, the misery of their victim must be beyond description.
The condition of the wicked which we have been
considering will enable us by contrast to set a true value on the peace of
the just. Knowing how to moderate their appetites and passions, they do not
seek their happiness in the pleasures of this life, but in God alone. The
end of their labors is not to acquire the perishable goods of this world,
but the enduring treasures of eternity. They wage unceasing war upon their
sensual appetites, and thus keep them entirely subdued. They are resigned
to God's will in all the events of their lives, and, therefore, experience
no rebellion of their will or appetites to disturb their interior peace.
This is one of the principal rewards which God
has promised to virtue. "Much peace have they that love thy law, and
to them there is no stumbling-block." (Ps. 118:165).
"Oh! That thou hadst hearkened to my
commandments; thy peace had been as a river, and thy justice as the waves
of the sea." (Is. 48:18). Peace is here represented by the
prophet under the figure of a river, because it extinguishes the fire of
concupiscence, moderates the ardor of our desires, fertilizes the soil of
our heart, and refreshes our soul. Solomon no less clearly asserts this
same truth: "When the ways of man shall please the Lord, he will
convert even his enemies to peace." (Prov. 16:7). He will
convert his enemies, the sensual appetites and passions, to peace, and by
the power of grace and habit He will subject them to the spirit.
Virtue meets with much opposition in its first
efforts against the passions, but as it begins to be perfected, this
opposition ceases and its course becomes calm and peaceful. The truth of
this is most keenly realized by the just in their practices of piety. They
cannot but contrast their present peace with the restless fears and
jealousies to which they were a prey when they served the world.
Now that they have given themselves to God and
placed all their confidence in Him, none of these alarms can reach them.
Their calm resignation to His will has wrought such a change in them that
they can hardly believe themselves the same beings. In truth, grace has
transformed them by creating in them new hearts. Can we, then, be surprised
that such souls enjoy a peace which, the Apostle says, surpasses all
understanding?
He who enjoys this favor cannot but turn to the
Author of so many marvels and cry out with the prophet, "Come and
behold ye the works of the Lord, what wonders he hath done upon earth,
making wars to cease even to the ends of the earth. He shall destroy the
bow, and break the weapons; and the shields he shall burn in the
fire." (Ps. 45:9-10). What, then, is more beautiful, more
worthy of our ambition, than this peace of soul, this calm of conscience,
which is the work of grace and the privilege of virtue?
As one of the twelve fruits of the Holy Ghost,
peace is the effect of virtue and its inseparable companion. It is one of
those blessings which give us on earth many of the joys of Heaven. For the
Apostle tells us, "The kingdom of God is not meat and drink; but
justice, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost." (Rom. 14:17).
According to the Hebrew version, justice here means the perfection of
virtue, which, together with its beautiful fruits, peace and joy, gives the
just a foretaste of eternal happiness. If you would have still further
proof that this peace flows from virtue, hear the words of the prophet:
"The work of justice shall be peace, and the service of justice
quietness and security for ever." (Is. 32:17).
A second cause of this peace is the liberty
which the just enjoy. This liberty is gained by the triumph of the nobler
part of the soul over the inferior appetites, which, after they have been
subjugated, are easily prevented from causing any disturbance. The great
spiritual consolations which we considered in a preceding chapter form
another source of this peace. They soothe the affections and appetites of
the flesh by making them content to share in the joys of the spirit, which
they afterwards begin to relish as the sovereign sweetness of God becomes
better known. Seeking, therefore, no other delights, they are never
disappointed, and consequently never feel the attacks of anger. The happy
result of all this is the reign of peace in the soul.
Finally, this great privilege proceeds from the
just man's confidence in God, which is his comfort in all trials and his
anchor in all storms. He knows that God is his Father, his Defender, his
Shield. Hence, he can say with the prophet, "In peace in the selfsame
I will sleep and I will rest; for thou, O Lord, singularly hast settled me
in hope." (Ps. 4:9-10).
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CHAPTER 20
The Ninth Privilege of Virtue:
The Manner in which God hears the
Prayers of the Just
To comprehend what we are about to say
upon this subject, you must remember that there have been two universal deluges,
one material, the other moral. The former took place in the time of Noe
and destroyed everything in the world but the ark and what it contained.
The moral deluge, much greater and more fatal than the material, arose
from the sin of our first parents. Unlike the flood in the days of Noe,
it affected not only Adam and Eve, its guilty cause, but every human
being. It affected the soul even more than the body. It robbed us of all
the spiritual riches and supernatural treasures which were bestowed upon us
in the person of our first parent.
From this first deluge came all the
miseries and necessities under which we groan. So great and so numerous
are these that a celebrated doctor, who was also an illustrious pontiff,
has devoted to them an entire work. (Innocent III, De Vilitate
Conditionis Humanae). Eminent philosophers; considering on the one
hand man's superiority to all other creatures, and on the other the
miseries and vices to which he is subject, have greatly wondered at such
contradictions in so noble a creature. Unenlightened by revelation, they
knew not the cause of this discord. They saw that of all animals man had
most infirmities of body; that he alone was tormented by ambition, by
avarice, by a desire to prolong his life, by a strange anxiety concerning
his burial, and, as it appeared to them, by a still stranger anxiety
concerning his condition after death. In fine, they saw that he was
subject to innumerable accidents and miseries of body and soul, and
condemned to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow.
His wretchedness was briefly but
forcibly described by Job when he said that "the life of man upon
earth is a warfare; and his days are like the days of a hireling." (Job
7:1). Many of the ancient philosophers were so impressed with this truth
that they doubted whether nature should not be called a stepmother rather
than a mother, so great are the miseries to which she subjects us. Others
argued that it would be better never to be born, or to die immediately
after birth. And some have said that few would accept life could they
have any experience of it before it was offered them.
Reduced to this miserable condition,
and deprived of our possessions by the first deluge, what resource, what
remedy, has been left us by the Master who has punished us so severely?
There is but one remedy for us, and that is to have recourse to Him,
crying out with the holy king Josaphat, "We know not what to do; we
can only turn our eyes to thee." (2Par. 20:12). Ezechias,
powerful monarch though he was, knew that this was his only refuge, and
therefore declared that he would cry to God like a swallow and would moan
before Him as a dove. (Cf. Is. 38:14).
And David, though a still greater
monarch, placed all his confidence in this heavenly succor. Inspired with
the same sentiment, he exclaimed, "I cried to the Lord with my
voice; to God with my voice, and he gave ear to me. In the day of my
trouble I sought God, with my hands lifted up to him in the night, and I
was not deceived." (Ps. 76:2-3). Thus when all other avenues
of hope were closed against him, when all other resources failed him, he
had recourse to prayer, the sovereign remedy for every evil.
You will ask, perhaps, whether this is
truly the sovereign remedy for every evil. As this depends solely upon
the will of God, they alone can answer it who have been instructed in the
secrets of His will the Apostles and prophets. "There is no other
nation so great, that hath gods so nigh them, as our God is present to
all our petitions." (Deut. 4:7).
These are the words of God Himself,
though expressed by His servant. They assure us with absolute certainty
that our prayers are not addressed in vain, that God is invisibly present
with us to receive every sigh of our soul, to compassionate our miseries,
and to grant us what we ask, if it be for our welfare. What is there more
consoling in prayer than this guarantee of God's assistance? But still
more reassuring are the promises of God Himself in the New Testament
where He tells us, "Ask, and you shall receive; seek, and you shall
find; knock, and it shall be opened to you." (Matt. 7:7).
What stronger, what fuller pledge could we find to allay our doubts?
Is it not evident that this is one of
the greatest privileges enjoyed by the just, to whom these consoling
words are in a special manner addressed? "The eyes of the Lord are
upon the just, and his ears unto their prayers." (Ps. 33:16).
"Then shalt thou call, and the Lord shall hear; thou shalt cry, and
he shall say: Here I am." (Is. 58:9). By the same prophet God
promises more to grant the prayers of the just even before they are
addressed to Him. And yet none of these promises equal those of Our
Saviour in the New Testament. "If you abide in me, " He says,
"and my words abide in you, you shall ask whatever you will, and it
shall be done unto you." (Jn. 15:7).
"Amen, amen I say to you: if you
ask the Father any thing in my name, he will give it you." (Jn.
16:23). Oh! Promise truly worthy of Him who utters it! What other power
could offer such a pledge? Who but God could fulfill it? Does not this
favor make man, in a measure, the lord of all things? Is he not thereby
entrusted with the keys of Heaven? "Whatsoever you shall ask"
provided it lead to your salvation shall be given to you." There
is no limitation, no special blessing all the treasures of grace are
offered to us.
Ah! If men knew how to appreciate
things at their true value, with what confidence would these words
inspire them! If men glory in possessing the favor of an earthly monarch
who places his royal power at their disposal, how much more reason have
we to rejoice in the favor and protection of the King of kings!
If you would learn how such promises
are fulfilled, study the lives of the saints and see what marvels they
effected by prayer. What did not Moses accomplish by prayer in Egypt and
throughout the journey of the Israelites in the desert? How wonderful
were the works of Elias and his disciple Eliseus! Behold the miracles
which the Apostles wrought! Prayer was the source of their power. It is,
moreover, the weapon with which the saints have fought and overcome the
world. By prayer they ruled the elements, and converted even the fierce
flames into refreshing dew. By prayer they disarmed the wrath of God and
opened the fountains of His mercy. By prayer, in fine, they obtained all
their desires.
It is related that our holy Father, St.
Dominic, once told a friend that he never failed to obtain a favor which
he asked from God. Whereupon his friend desired him to pray that a
celebrated doctor named Reginald might become a member of his order. The
saint spent the night in prayer for this disciple, and early in the
morning, as he was beginning the first hymn of the morning office,
Reginald suddenly came into the choir, and, prostrating himself at the
feet of the saint, begged for the habit of his order. Behold the
recompense with which God rewards the obedience of the just. They are
docile to the voice of His commandments, and He is equally attentive to
the voice of their supplications. Hence Solomon tells us that "an
obedient man shall speak of victory." (Prov. 21:28).
How differently are the prayers of the
wicked answered! "When you stretch forth your hands," the
Almighty tells them, "I will turn away my eyes from you; and when
you multiply prayer I will not hear." (Is. 1:15). "In
the time of their affliction," says the prophet, "they will say
to the " Lord, Arise, and deliver us." But God will ask, Where
are the gods whom thou hast made thee? Let them arise and deliver
thee." (Jer. 2:27-28).
"What is the hope of the
hypocrite, if through covetousness he takes by violence? Will God hear
his cry when distress shall come upon him?" (Job 27:8).
"Dearly beloved," says St.
John, "if our heart do not reprehend us, we have confidence towards
God; and whatsoever we shall ask, we shall receive of him, because we
keep his commandments, and do those things which are pleasing in his
sight." (1Jn. 3:21-22).
"If I have looked at iniquity in
my heart," the royal prophet tells us; "the Lord will not hear
me"; but I have not committed iniquity, and "therefore God hath
heard me, and attended to the voice of my supplication." (Ps.
65:18-19).
It would be easy to find in Holy
Scripture many similar passages, but these will suffice to manifest the
difference between the prayers of the just and those of the wicked, and,
by consequence, the incomparable privileges which the former enjoy. The
just are heard and treated as the children of God; the wicked are
rejected as His enemies. This should not astonish us, for a prayer
unsupported by good works, devoid of fervor, charity, or humility, cannot
be pleasing to God.
Nevertheless, the sinner who reads
these lines must not give way to discouragement. It is only the
obstinately wicked who are rejected. It is only those who wish to
continue in their disorders who are thus cut off. Though your sins are as
numerous as the sands on the shore, though your life has been wasted in
crime, never forget that God is your Father, that He awaits you with open
arms and open heart, that He is continually calling upon you to return
and be reconciled to Him. Have the desire to change your life; be
resolved to walk in the path of virtue, and turn to God in humble prayer,
with unshaken confidence that you will be heard. "Ask, and you shall
receive; seek, and you shall find; knock, and it shall be opened to
you."
CHAPTER 21
The Tenth Privilege of Virtue:
The Consolation and Assistance
with which God sustains the Just in
their Afflictions
As we have already remarked, there is
no sea more treacherous or more inconstant than this life. No man's
happiness is secure from the danger of innumerable accidents and
misfortunes. It is, therefore, important to observe how differently the
just and the wicked act under tribulation. The just, knowing that God is
their Father and the Physician of their souls, submissively and
generously accept as the cure for their infirmities the bitter chalice of
suffering. They look on tribulation as a file in the hands of their Maker
to remove the rust of. sin from their souls, and to restore them to their
original purity and brightness. They have learned in the school of the
Divine Master that affliction renders a man more humble, increases the
fervor of his prayers, and purifies his conscience.
Now, no physician more carefully
proportions his remedies to the strength of his patient than this
Heavenly Physician tempers trials according to the necessities of souls.
Should their burdens be increased, He redoubles the measure of their
consolations. Seeing from this the riches they acquire by sufferings, the
just no longer fly from them, but eagerly desire them, and meet them with
patience and even with joy. They regard not the labor, but the crown; not
the bitter medicine, but the health to be restored to them; not the pain
of their wounds, but the goodness of Him who has said that He loves those
whom He chastises. (Cf. Heb. 12:6).
Grace, which is never wanting to the
just in the hour of tribulation, is the first source of the fortitude
which they display. Though He seems to have withdrawn from them, God is
never nearer to His children than at such a time. Search the Scriptures
and you will see that there is no truth more frequently repeated than
this. "Call upon me in the day of trouble," says the Lord;
"I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." (Ps.
49:15). "When I called upon the Lord," David sings, "the
God of my justice heard me; when I was in distress, thou hast enlarged
me." (Ps. 4:2).
Hence the calmness and fortitude of the
just under suffering. They are strong in the protection of a powerful
Friend who constantly watches over them. Witness the three young men who
were cast into the burning furnace. God sent His angel to accompany them,
and "He drove the flame of the fire out of the furnace, and made the
midst of the furnace like the blowing of a wind bringing dew, and the
fire touched them not, nor troubled them, nor did them any harm
Then
Nabuchodonosor was astonished, and rose up in haste, and said to his
nobles: Did we not cast three men bound into the midst of the fire? They
answered the king and said: True, O king. He answered and said: Behold I
see four men loose, and walking in the midst of the fire, and there is no
hurt in them, and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God." (Dan.
3:49-50 and 91-92). Does this not teach us that God's protection never
fails the just in the hour of trial?
A no less striking example is that of
Joseph, with whom God's protection "descended into the pit, and left
him not till he was brought to the scepter of the kingdom, and power
against those that had oppressed him, and showed them to be liars that
had accused him, and gave him everlasting glory." (Wis.
10:13-14). Such examples prove more powerfully than words the truth of
God's promise, "I am with him in tribulation; I will deliver him and
I will glorify him." (Ps. 90:15). Oh! Happy affliction which
merits for us the companionship of God! Let our prayers, then, be with
St. Bernard: "Give me, O Lord, tribulations through life, that I may
never be separated from Thee!" (Serm. 17 in Ps. 90).
To the direct action of grace we must
add that of the virtues, each of which, in its own way, strengthens the
afflicted soul. When the heart is oppressed, the blood rushes to it to
facilitate its movement, to strengthen its action. So, .when the soul is
oppressed by suffering, the virtues hasten to assist and strengthen it.
First comes faith, with her absolute
assurance of the eternal happiness of Heaven and the eternal misery of
Hell. She tells us, in the words of the Apostle, that "the sufferings
of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come that
shall be revealed in us." (Rom. 8:18). Next comes hope,
softening our troubles and lightening our burdens with her glorious
promises of future rewards. Then charity, the most powerful help of the
soul, so inflames our will that we even desire to suffer for love of Him
who has endured so much for love of us.
Gratitude reminds us that as we have
received good things from God, we should also be willing to receive evil.
(Cf. Job 2:10). Resignation helps us recognize and cheerfully
accept God's will or permission in all things. Humility bows the heart
before the wind of adversity, like a young tree swept by the storm.
Patience gives us strength above nature to enable us to bear the heaviest
burden. Obedience tells us that there is no holocaust more pleasing to
God than that which we make of our will by our perfect submission to Him.
Penance urges that it is but just that one who has so often resisted
God's will should have his own will denied in many things. Fidelity
pleads that we should rejoice to be able to prove our devotion to Him who
unceasingly showers His benefits upon us.
Finally, the memory of Christ's Passion
and the lives of the saints show us how cowardly it would be to complain
of our trials. Yet among all the virtues, hope consoles us most
effectually. "Rejoice in hope," says the Apostle; "be
patient in tribulation" (Rom. 12:12), thus teaching us that
our patience is the result of our hope. Again, he calls hope an anchor (Heb.
6:19), because it holds firm and steady the frail barque of our life in
the midst of the most tempestuous storms.
Strengthened by these considerations
and by God's unfailing grace, the just endure tribulation not only with
invincible fortitude, but even with cheerfulness and gratitude. They know
that the duty of a good Christian does not consist solely in praying,
fasting, or hearing Mass, but in proving their faith under tribulation,
as did Abraham, the father of the faithful, and Job, the most patient of
men. Consider also the example of Tobias, who, after suffering many
trials, was permitted by God to lose his sight. The Holy Ghost bears
witness to his invincible patience and virtue. "Having always feared
God from his infancy, and kept his commandments, he repined not against
God because the evil of blindness had befallen him, but continued
immovable in the fear of God, giving thanks to God all the days of his
life." (Tob, 2:13-14). We could cite numerous examples of men
and women who even in our time have cheerfully and lovingly borne
cruel infirmities and painful labors, finding honey in gall, calm in
tempest, refreshment and peace in the midst of the flames of Babylon.
But we feel that we have said
sufficient to prove that God consoles the just in their sufferings, and
therefore we shall next consider the unfortunate condition of the wicked
when laboring under affliction. Devoid of hope, of charity, of courage,
of every sustaining virtue, tribulation attacks them unarmed and
defenceless. Their dead faith sheds no ray of light upon the darkness of
their afflictions. Hope holds out no future reward to sustain their
failing courage. Strangers to charity, they know not the loving care of
their Heavenly Father. How lamentable a sight to behold them swallowed in
the gulf of tribulation! Utterly defenceless, how can they breast the
angry waves? How can they escape being dashed to pieces against the rocks
of pride, despair, rage, and blasphemy?
Have we not seen unhappy souls lose
their health, their reason, their very life in the excess of their
misery? While the just, like pure gold, come out of the crucible of
suffering refined and purified, the wicked, like some viler metal, are
melted and dissolved. While the wicked shed bitter tears, the. just sing
songs of gladness. "The voice of rejoicing and of salvation is in
the tabernacles of the just" (Ps. 117:15), while the
habitations of sinners resound with cries of sorrow and despair.
Observe, moreover, the extravagant
grief of the wicked when those they love are taken from them by death.
They storm against Heaven; they deny God's justice; they blaspheme His
mercy; they accuse His providence; they rage against men; and not
unfrequently they end their miserable lives by their own hands. Their
curses and blasphemies bring upon them terrible calamities, for the
Divine Justice cannot but punish those who rebel against the providence
of God.
Unhappy souls! The afflictions which
are sent for the cure of their disorders only increase their misery. May
we not say that the pains of Hell begin for them even in this life?
Consider, too, the loss which they suffer by their murmurings and
impatience. No man can escape the trials of life, but all can lighten
their burden and merit eternal reward by bearing their sorrows in patience.
Not only is this precious fruit lost by the wicked, but to the load of
misery which they are compelled to carry they add the still more
intolerable burden of their impatience and rebellion. They are like a
traveler who, after a long and weary journey through the night, finds
himself in the morning further than ever from the place he wished to
reach.
What a subject is this for our
contemplation! "The same fire," says St. Chrysostom,
"which purifies gold, consumes wood; so in the fire of tribulation the
just acquire new beauty and perfection, while the wicked, like dry wood,
are reduced to ashes." (Hom.14 in Matt.1). St. Cyprian
expresses the same thought by another illustration: "As the wind in
harvest time scatters the chaff but cleanses the wheat, so the winds of
adversity scatter the wicked but purify the just." (De Unitate
Eccl.).
The passage of the children of Israel
through the Red Sea is still another figure of the same truth. Like
protecting walls the waters rose on each side of the people, and gave
them a safe passage to the dry land; but as soon as the Egyptian army
with its king and chariots had entered the watery breach, the same waves
closed upon them and buried them in the sea. In like manner the waters of
tribulation are a preservation to the just, while to the wicked they are
a tempestuous gulf which sweeps them into the abyss of rage, of
blasphemy, and of despair.
Behold the admirable advantage which
virtue possesses over vice. It was for this reason that philosophers so
highly extolled philosophy, persuaded that its study rendered man more
constant and more resolute in adversity, But this was one of their
numerous errors. True constancy, like true virtue, cannot be drawn from
the teaching of worldly philosophy. It must be learned in the school of
the Divine Master, who from His cross consoles us by His example, and
from His throne in Heaven sends us His Spirit to strengthen and encourage
us by the hope of an immortal crown.
CHAPTER 22
The Eleventh Privilege of Virtue: God's
Care for the Temporal Needs of the Just
The privileges of virtue which we
considered in the preceding chapters are the spiritual blessings accorded
to the just in this life, independently of the eternal reward of Heaven.
As, however, there may be some who, like the Jews of old, cling to the
things of the flesh rather than to those of the spirit, we shall devote
this chapter to the temporal blessings which the virtuous enjoy.
The Wise Man says of wisdom, which is
the perfection of virtue, that "length of days is in her right hand,
and in her left hand riches and glory." (Prov. 3:16). Perfect
virtue, then, possesses this double reward with which she wins men to her
allegiance, holding out to them with one hand the temporal blessings of
this life, and with the other the eternal blessings of the life to come.
Oh, no; God does not leave His followers in want! He who so carefully
provides for the ant, the worm, the smallest of His creatures, cannot
disregard the necessities of His faithful servants.
I do not ask you to receive this upon
my word, but I do ask you to read the Gospel according to St. Matthew, in
which you will find many assurances and promises on this subject.
"Behold the birds of the air," says Our Saviour, "for they
neither sow, nor do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your heavenly
Father feedeth them. Are not you of much more value than they?
Be not
solicitous, therefore, saying: What shall we eat, or what shall we drink,
or wherewith shall we be clothed? For after all these things do the heathen
seek. For your Father knoweth that you have need of all these things.
Seek ye, therefore, first the kingdom of God, and his justice, and all
these things shall be added unto you." (Matt. 6:26, 31-33).
"Fear the Lord, all ye his
saints," the psalmist sings, "for they that fear him know no
want. The rich have wanted, and have suffered hunger; but they that seek
the Lord shall not be deprived of any good." (Ps. 33:10-11).
"I have been young, and now am old, and I have not seen the just
forsaken nor his seed seeking bread." (Ps. 36:25).
If you would satisfy yourself still
further concerning the temporal blessings conferred on the just, read the
divine promises recorded in Deuteronomy: "If thou wilt hear the
voice of the Lord thy God, to do and keep all his commandments which I
command thee this day, the Lord thy God will make thee higher than all
the nations that are on the earth. And all these blessings shall come
upon thee and overtake thee, if thou hear his precepts. Blessed shalt
thou be in the city, and blessed in the field. Blessed shall be the fruit
of thy womb, and the fruit of thy ground, and the fruit of thy cattle,
the droves of thy herds, and the folds of thy sheep. Blessed shall be thy
barns and blessed thy stores. Blessed shalt thou be coming in and going
out. The Lord shall cause thy enemies that rise up against thee to fall
down before thy face; one way shall they come out against thee, and seven
ways shall they thee before thee. The Lord will send forth a blessing
upon thy storehouses, and upon all the works of thy hands, and will bless
thee in the land that thou shalt receive.
"The Lord will raise thee up to be
a holy people to himself, as he swore to thee, if thou keep the
commandments of the Lord thy God and walk in his ways. And all the people
of the earth shall see that the name of the Lord is invoked upon thee,
and they shall fear thee. The Lord will make thee abound with all goods,
with the fruit of thy womb, and the fruit of thy cattle, with the fruit
of thy land which the Lord swore to thy fathers that he would give thee.
The Lord will open his excellent treasure, the heaven, that it may give
rain in due season; and he will bless all the works of thy hands." (Deut.
28:1-12).
What riches can be compared to such
blessings as these? And they have been promised not only to the Jews, but
to all Christians who are faithful to God's law. Moreover, they are
bestowed with two extraordinary advantages unknown to the wicked. The
first of these is the wisdom with which God awards them. Like a skillful
physician, He gives His servants temporal blessings according to their
necessities, and not in such measure as to inflate them with pride or
endanger their salvation. The wicked despise this moderation and madly
heap up all the riches they can acquire, forgetting that excess in this
respect is as dangerous to the soul as excess of nourishment is injurious
to the body. Though a man's life lies in his blood, too copious a supply
only tends to choke him.
The second of these advantages is that
temporal blessings afford the just, with far less disturbance or display,
that rest and contentment which all men seek in worldly goods. Even with
a little, the just enjoy as much repose as if they possessed the
universe. Hence St. Paul speaks of himself as having nothing, yet
possessing all things. (Cf. 2Cor. 6:10). Thus the just journey
through life, poor but knowing no want, possessing abundance in the midst
of poverty. The wicked, on the contrary, hunger in the midst of
abundance, and though, like Tantalus, they are surrounded by water, they
can never satisfy their thirst. (Tantalus, according to the fable of the
ancients, was a king of Corinth, condemned by the gods, for divulging
their secrets, to be placed in Hell in the midst of water which reached
his chin, but which he could not even taste; to have fruit suspended over
his head which he could not eat; and to be always in fear of a large
stone falling on his hand.).
For like reasons Moses earnestly
exhorted the people to the observance of God's law. "Lay up these words
in thy heart," he says; "teach them to thy children; meditate
upon them sitting in thy house, walking on thy journey, sleeping and
rising. Bind them as a sign upon thy hand; keep them before thy eyes;
write them over the entrance to thy house, on the doors of thy house. Do
that which is pleasing and good in the sight of the Lord, that it may be
well with thee all the days of thy life in the land which God shall give
thee." (Deut. 6:6-10).
Having been admitted to the counsels of
the Most High, Moses knew the inestimable treasure contained in the
observance of the law. His prophetic mind saw that all temporal and
spiritual blessings, both present and future, were comprised in this. It
is a compact which God makes with the just, and which, we may feel
assured, will never be broken on His part. Nay, rather, if we prove
ourselves faithful servants we will find that God will be even more
generous than His promises.
"Godliness," says St. Paul,
"is profitable to all things, having promise of the life that now
is, and of that which is to come." (1Tim. 4:8). Behold how
clearly the Apostle promises to piety, which is the observance of God's
commandments, not only the blessings of eternity but those of this life
also.
If you desire to know the poverty,
miseries, and afflictions which are reserved for the wicked, read the
twenty eighth chapter of the Book of Deuteronomy. Therein Moses, in the
name of God, utters most terrible threats and maledictions against the
impious. "If thou wilt not hear the voice of the Lord thy God, to
keep and to do all his commandments and ceremonies which I command thee
this day, all these curses shall come upon thee and overtake thee. Cursed
shalt thou be in the city, cursed in the field. Cursed shall be thy barn,
and cursed thy stores. Cursed shall be the fruit of thy womb, and the
fruit of thy ground, the herds of thy oxen, and the flocks of thy sheep.
Cursed shalt thou be coming in and going out. The Lord shall send upon
thee famine and hunger, and a rebuke upon all the works which thou shalt
do, until he consume and destroy thee quickly for thy most wicked
inventions, by which thou hast forsaken me. May the Lord set the
pestilence upon thee until he consume thee out of the land which thou
shalt go in to possess.
"May the Lord afflict thee with
miserable want, with the fever and with cold, with burning and with heat,
and with corrupted air and with blasting, and pursue thee till thou
perish. Be the heaven that is over thee of brass, and the ground thou
treadest on of iron. The Lord give thee dust for rain upon thy land, and
let ashes come down from heaven upon thee till thou be consumed. The Lord
make thee fall down before thy enemies; one way mayst thou go out against
them, and flee seven ways, and be scattered throughout all the kingdoms
of the earth. And be thy carcass meat for all the fowls of the air and
the beasts of the earth, and be there none to drive them away. The Lord
strike thee with madness and blindness, and fury of mind. And mayst thou
grope at midday as the blind is wont to grope in the dark, and not make
straight thy ways. And mayst thou at all times suffer wrong, and be
oppressed with violence, and mayest thou have no one to deliver thee. May
thy sons and thy daughters be given to another people, thy eyes looking
on, and languishing at the sight of them all the day, and may there be no
strength in thy hand.
"May a people which thou knowest
not eat the fruits of thy land, and all thy labors, and mayst thou always
suffer oppression, and be crushed at all times. May the Lord strike thee
with a very sore ulcer in the knees and in the legs, and be thou
incurable from the sole of thy foot to the top of thy head.
And all
these curses shall come upon thee, and shall pursue and overtake thee,
till thou perish; because thou heardst not the voice of the Lord thy God,
and didst not keep his commandments. Because thou didst not serve the
Lord thy God with joy and gladness of heart for the abundance of all
things, thou shalt serve thy enemy whom the Lord will send upon thee, in
hunger, in thirst, and nakedness, and in want of all things; and he shall
put an iron yoke upon thy neck till he consume thee. The Lord will bring
upon thee a nation from afar, and from the uttermost ends of the earth, a
most insolent nation, that will show no regard to the ancient, nor have
pity on the infant, and will devour the fruit of thy cattle, and the
fruits of thy land, until thou be destroyed, and will leave thee no
wheat, nor wine, nor oil, nor herds of oxen, nor flocks of sheep, till he
consume thee in all thy cities, and thy strong and high walls be brought
down, wherein thou trustedst in all thy land. Thou shalt be besieged
within thy gates, and thou shalt eat the fruit of thy womb, and the flesh
of thy sons and thy daughters, in the distress and extremity wherewith
thy enemies shall oppress thee."
Let us not forget that these
maledictions are recorded in Holy Scripture, with many others, equally
terrible, which we have not cited. Learn from them the rigor with which
Divine Justice pursues the wicked, and the hatred God must bear to sin,
which He punishes with such severity in this life and with still greater
torments in the next.
Think not these were idle menaces. No;
they were words of prophecy, and were terribly verified in the Jewish
nation. For we read that during the reign of Achab, King of Israel, his
people were besieged by the army of the King of Syria, and reduced to
such straits that they fed upon pigeons' dung, which sold at a high
price, and that a mother devoured her own child. (Cf. 4Kg. 6). And
these scenes the historian Josephus tells us, were repeated during the
siege of Jerusalem. The captivity of this people and the complete
destruction of their kingdom and power are well-known to all.
Think not that these calamities were
reserved for the Jewish people only. All the nations that have known
God's law and despised it have been the objects of His just and terrible
anger. "Did not I bring up Israel out of the land of Egypt, and the
Philistines out of Cappadocia, and the Syrians out of Cyrene? Behold the
eyes of the Lord God are upon the sinful kingdom, and I will destroy it
from the face of the earth." (Amos 9:7-8). From this we can
understand that wars and revolutions, the downfall of some kingdoms and
the rise of others, are due to the sins of men.
Read the annals of the early ages of
the Church, and you will find that God has dealt in like manner with the
wicked, especially with those who were once enlightened by His law, and
who afterwards rejected it. See how He has punished infidelity in
Christian nations. Vast portions of Europe, Asia, and Africa, formerly
filled with Christian churches are now in the hands of infidels and
barbarians. Behold the ravages wrought in Christian nations by the Goths,
the Huns, and the Vandals! In the time of St. Augustine they laid waste
all the countries of Africa, sparing none of the inhabitants, not even
women and children. At the same time Dalmatia and the neighboring towns
were so devastated by the barbarians that St. Jerome, who was a native of
that kingdom, said that a traveler passing through the country would find
only earth and sky, so universal was the desolation.
Is it not evident, therefore, that
virtue not only helps us attain the joys of eternity, but that it also
secures for us the blessings of this life?
Let, then, the consideration of this
privilege, with the others which we have mentioned, excite you to renewed
ardor in the practice of virtue, which is able to save you from so many
miseries and procure you so many blessings.
CHAPTER 23
The Twelfth Privilege of Virtue: The
Happy Death of the Just
The end, it is said, crowns the work,
and, therefore, it is in death that the just man's life is most fittingly
crowned, while the departure of the sinner is a no less fitting close to
his wretched career. "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death
of his saints" (Ps.115:15), says the Psalmist, but "the
death of the wicked is very evil." (Ps. 33:22). Commenting
upon the latter part of this text, St. Bernard says, "The death of
the wicked is bad because it takes them from this world; it is still
worse because it separates the soul from the body; and it is worst
because it precipitates them into the fire of Hell, and delivers them a
prey to the undying worm of remorse."
To these evils which haunt the sinner
at the hour of death add the bitter regrets which gnaw his heart, the
anguish which fills his soul, and the torments which rack his body. He is
seized with terror at the thought of the past; of the account he must
render; of the sentence which is to be pronounced against him; of the
horrors of the tomb; of separation from wife, children, and friends; of
bidding farewell to the things he has loved with an inordinate and a
guilty love wealth, luxuries, and even the gifts of nature, the light of
day and the pure air of heaven. The stronger his love for earthly things
has been, the more bitter will be his anguish in separating from them. As
St. Augustine says, we cannot part without grief from that which we have
possessed with love. It was in the same spirit that a certain philosopher
said that he who has fewest pleasures in life has least reason to fear
death.
But the greatest suffering of the
wicked at the hour of death comes from the stings of remorse, and the
thought of the terrible future upon which they are about to enter. The
approach of death seems to open man's eyes and make him see all things as
he never saw them before. "As life ebbs away," says St.
Eusebius, "man is free from all distracting care for the necessities
of life. He ceases to desire honors, emoluments, or dignities, for he
sees that they are beyond his grasp. Eternal interests and thoughts of
God's justice demand all his attention. The past with its pleasures is
gone; the present with its opportunities is rapidly gliding away; all
that remains to him is the future, with the dismal prospect of his many
sins waiting to accuse him before the judgment-seat of the just
God."
"Consider," the saint again says,
"the terror which will seize the negligent soul when she is entering
eternity; the anguish with which she will be filled when, foremost among
her accusers, her conscience will appear with its innumerable retinue of
sins. Its testimony cannot be denied; its accusations will leave her mute
and helpless; there will be no need to seek further witnesses, for the
knowledge of this life-long companion will confound her."
Still more terrible is the picture of
the death of the sinner given by St. Peter Damian. "Let us try to
represent to ourselves," he says, "the terror which fills the
soul of the sinner at the hour of death and the bitter reproaches with
which conscience assails him. The commandments he has despised and the
sins he has committed appear before him, to haunt him by their presence.
He sighs for the time which he has squandered, and which was given to him
to do penance; he beholds with despair the account he must render before
the dread tribunal of God. He longs to arrest the moments, but they speed
relentlessly on, bearing him nearer and nearer to his doom.
"If he looks back, his life seems
but a moment, and before him is the limitless horizon of eternity. He
weeps bitterly at the thought of the unspeakable happiness which he has
sacrificed for the fleeting pleasures of the flesh: Confusion and shame
overwhelm him when he sees he has forfeited a glorious place among the
angelic choirs, through love for his body, which is about to become the
food of worms. When he turns his eyes from the abode of these beings of
light to the dark valley of this world, he sees how base and unworthy are
the things for which he has rejected immortal glory and happiness. Oh!
Could he but regain a small portion of the time he has lost, what
austerities, what mortifications he would practice! What is there that
could overcome his courage? What vows would he not offer, and how fervent
would be his prayers! But while he is revolving these sad thoughts, the
messengers of death appear in the rigid limbs, the dark and hollow eyes,
the heaving breast, the foaming lips, the livid face. And as these
exterior heralds approach, every thought, word, and action of his guilty
life appears before him.
"Vainly does he strive to turn his
eyes from them; they will not be banished. On one side and this is true
of every man's death Satan and his legions are present, tempting the
dying man, in the hope of seizing his soul even at the last minute. On
the other side are the angels of Heaven, helping, consoling, and
strengthening him. And yet it is his own life that will decide the
contest between the spirits of darkness and the angels of light. In the
case of the good, who have heaped up a treasure of meritorious works, the
victory is with the angels of light. But the impious man, whose unexpiated
crimes are crying for vengeance, rejects the help that is offered to him,
yields to despair, and as his unhappy soul passes from his pampered body,
the demons are ready to seize it and bear it away."
What stronger proof does man require of
the wretched condition of the sinner, and what more does he need to make
him avoid a career which ends so deplorably? If, at this critical hour,
riches could help him as they do at many other periods of life, the evil
would be less. But he will receive no succor from his riches, his honors,
his dignities, his distinguished friends. The only patronage which will
then avail him will be that of virtue and innocence. "Riches,"
says the Wise Man, "shall not profit in the day of revenge, but
justice shall deliver from death." (Prov. 11:4).
As the wicked, therefore, receive at
the hour of death the punishment of their crimes, so do the just then
receive the reward of their virtues. "With him that feareth the Lord
", says the Holy Ghost, "it shall go well in the latter end; and
in the day of his death he shall be blessed." (Ecclus. 1:13).
St. John declares this truth still more forcibly when he tells us that he
heard a voice from Heaven commanding him, "Write: Blessed are the
dead who die in the Lord. From henceforth, saith the Spirit, they rest
from their labors, for their works follow them." (Apoc.
14:13). With such a promise from God Himself, how can the just man fear?
Can he dread that hour in which he is to receive the reward of his life's
labors?
Since, as we read in Job, he has put
away iniquity, brightness like that of the noonday shall arise to him at
evening, and when he shall think himself consumed he shall rise as the
day-star. (Cf. Job 11:14,17). Explaining these words, St. Gregory
says that the light which illumines the close of the just man's life is
the splendor of that immortal glory which is already so near. When
others, therefore, are weighed down by sadness and despair, he is full of
confidence and joy. For this reason Solomon has said that the wicked
shall be rejected because of their wickedness, but the just man hath hope
in the hour of his death. (Cf. Prov. 14:32).
What more striking example of this
confident hope can we find than that of the glorious St. Martin? Seeing
the devil beside his bed at the hour of death, he cried out, "What
art thou doing here, cruel beast? Thou wilt find no mortal sin in my soul
by which thou mayest bind me. I go, therefore, to enjoy eternal peace in
Abraham's bosom." Equally touching and beautiful was the confidence
of our holy Father, St. Dominic. Seeing the religious of his order
weeping around his bed, he said to them, "Weep not, my children, for
I can do you more good where I am going than I could ever hope to do on
earth." How could the fear of death overcome one who so confidently
hoped to obtain Heaven, not only for himself, but also for his disciples?
Far, then, from fearing death, the just
hail it as the hour of their deliverance and the beginning of their
reward. In his commentary on the Epistle of St. John, St. Augustine writes,
"It cannot be said that he who desires to be dissolved and to be
with Christ endures death with patience, but rather that he endures life
with patience and embraces death with joy." It is not, therefore,
with cries and lamentations that the just man sees his end approaching,
but like the swan, which is said to sing as death draws near he
departs this life with words of praise and thanksgiving on his lips.
He does not fear death, because he has
always feared God, and he who fears God need fear nothing else. He does
not fear death, because his life has been a preparation for death, and he
who is always armed and ready need not fear the enemy. He does not fear
death, because he has sought during life to secure in virtue and good
works powerful advocates for that terrible hour. He does not fear death,
because he has endeavored, by devoted service, to incline his Judge in
his favor. Finally, he does not fear death, because to the just, death is
only a sweet sleep, the end of toil, and the beginning of a blessed
immortality.
Nor can the accompanying accidents and
pains of death alarm him, for he knows that they are but the throes and
pangs in which he must be brought forth to eternal life. He is not
dismayed by the memory of his sins or the rigor of God's justice, since
he has Christ for his Friend and Advocate. He does not tremble at the
presence of Satan and his followers, for his Redeemer, who has conquered
Hell and ! death, stands at his side. For him the tomb has no terrors,
for he knows that he must sow a natural body in order that it may rise a
spiritual body, that this corruptible must put on incorruption. (Cf. 1Cor.
15:42,44).
Since, as we have already remarked, the
end crowns the work, and, as Seneca tells us, the last day condemns or
justifies the whole life, how can we, beholding the peaceful and blessed
death of the just and the miserable departure of the wicked, seek for any
other motive to make us embrace a life of virtue?
Of what avail will be the riches and
prosperity which you may enjoy during your short stay in this life, if
your eternity will be spent in the endless torments of Hell? Or how can
you shrink from the temporary sufferings that will win for you an
eternity of happiness? Of what advantage are learning and skill, if the
sinner uses them only to acquire those things which flatter his pride,
feed his sensuality, confirm him in sin, make him unfit to practice
virtue, and thus render death as bitter and unwelcome as his life was
pleasant and luxurious? We consider him a wise and skillful physician who
prudently seeks by every it means to restore the health of his patient,
since this is the end of his science. So is he truly wise who regulates
his life with a view to his last end, who constantly employs all the
means in his power to fit himself for a happy death.
Behold, then, dear Christian, the
twelve fruits of virtue in this life. They are like the twelve fruits of
the tree of life seen by St. John in his prophetic vision. (Cf. Apoc.
22:2). This tree represents Jesus Christ, and is also a symbol of virtue
with its abundant fruits of holiness and life. And what fruits can be
compared to those which we have been considering? What is there more
consoling than the fatherly care with which God surrounds the just? What
blessings equal those of divine grace, of heavenly wisdom, of the
consolations of the Holy Spirit, of the testimony of a good conscience,
of invincible hope, of unfailing efficacy in prayer, and of that peaceful
and happy death with which the just man's life is crowned? But one of
these fruits, rightly known and appreciated, should suffice to make us
embrace virtue.
Think not that you will ever regret any
labor or any sacrifice made in pursuit of so great a good. The wicked do
not strive to attain it, for they know not its value. To them the kingdom
of Heaven is like a hidden treasure. (Cf. Matt. 13:44). And yet it
is only through the divine light and the practice of virtue that they
will learn its beauty and worth. Seek, therefore, this light, and you
will find the pearl of great price.
Do not leave the source of eternal life
to drink at the turbid streams of the world. Follow the counsel of the
prophet, and taste and see that the Lord is sweet. Trusting in Our
Saviour's words, resolutely enter the path of virtue, and your illusions
will vanish. The serpent into which the rod of Moses was converted was
frightful at a distance, but at the touch of his hand it became again a
harmless rod. To the wicked, virtue wears a forbidding look; to sacrifice
their worldly pleasures for her would be to buy her at too dear a rate.
But when they draw near they see how lovely she is, and when they have
once tasted the sweetness she possesses they cheerfully surrender all
they have to win her friendship and love. How gladly did the man in the
Gospel hasten to sell all he had to purchase the field which contained a
treasure! (Cf. Matt. 13:44).
Why, then, do Christians make so little
effort to obtain this inestimable good? If a companion assured you that a
treasure lay hidden in your house, you would not fail to search for it,
even though you doubted its existence. Yet though you know, on the
infallible word of God, that you can find a priceless treasure within
your own breast, you do nothing to discover it. Oh! That you would
realize its value! Would that you knew how little it costs to obtain it,
and how "nigh is the Lord unto all them that call upon him, that
call upon him in truth" (Ps. 144:18)!
Be mindful of the prodigal, of so many
others who have returned from sin and error, to find, instead of an angry
Judge, a loving Father awaiting them. Do penance, therefore, for your
sins, and God will no longer remember your iniquities (Cf. Ezech.
18:21-22). Return to your loving Father; rise with the dawn and knock at
the gates of His mercy; humbly persevere in your entreaties, and He will
not fail to reveal to you the treasure of His love. Having once
experienced the sweetness which it contains, you will say with the spouse
in the Canticle, "If a man should give all the substance of his
house for love, he shall despise it as nothing." (Cant. 8:7).
CHAPTER 24
The Folly of those who Defer their
Conversion
The considerations offered in the
preceding chapters should be more than sufficient to excite men to the
love and practice of virtue. However, sinners never seem to be in want of
excuses to defend their loose lives. "A sinful man," says the
Scripture, "will flee reproof, and will find an excuse according to
his will." (Ecclus. 32:21).
"He that hath a mind to depart
from a friend seeketh occasions." (Prov. 18:1). Thus the
wicked, who flee reproach, who wish to withdraw from God, are never
without an excuse. Some defer this important affair of salvation to an
indefinite future; others till the hour of death. Many allege that it is
too difficult and arduous an undertaking. Many presume upon God's mercy,
persuading themselves that they can be saved by faith and hope without
charity. Others, in fine, who are enslaved by the pleasures of the world,
are unwilling to sacrifice them for the happiness which God promises.
These are the snares most frequently employed by Satan to allure men to
sin, and to keep them in its bondage until death surprises them.
At present we intend to answer those
who defer their conversion, alleging that they can turn to God more
efficaciously at another time. With this excuse was St, Augustine kept
back from a virtuous life. "Later, Lord," he cried
"later I will abandon the world and sin."
It will not be difficult to prove that
this is a ruse of the father of lies, whose office since the beginning of
the world has been to deceive man. We know with certainty that there is
nothing which a Christian should desire more earnestly than salvation. It
is equally certain that to obtain it the sinner must change his life,
since there is no other possible means of salvation. Therefore, all that
remains for us is to decide when this amendment should begin. You say, at
a future day I answer, at this present moment. You urge that later it
will be easier. I insist that it will be easier now. Let us see which of
us is right.
Before we speak of the facility of
conversion, tell me who has assured you that you will live to the time
you have appointed for your amendment. Do you not know how many have been
deceived by this hope? St. Gregory tells us that "God promises to
receive the repentant sinner when he returns to Him, but nowhere does He
promise to give him tomorrow." St. Caesarius thus expresses the same
thought: "Some say, 'In my old age I will have recourse to penance';
but how can you promise yourself an old age, when your frail life cannot
count with security upon one day?"
I cannot but think that the number of
souls lost in this way is infinite. It was the cause of the ruin of the
rich man in the Gospel, whose terrible history is related by St. Luke:
"The land of a certain rich man brought forth plenty of fruits; and
he thought within himself, saying: What shall I do, because I have no
room where to bestow my fruits? And he said: This will I do: I will pull
down my barns, and will build greater, and into them will I gather all
things that are grown to me, and my goods; and I will say to my soul:
Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thy rest, eat,
drink, make good cheer. But God said to him: Thou fool, this night do
they require thy soul of thee; and whose shall those things be which thou
hast provided?" (Lk. 12:16-21). What greater folly than thus
to dispose of the future, as if time were our own!
God, says St. John (Cf. Apoc.
1:18), holds the keys of life and death. Yet a miserable worm of the
earth dares usurp this power. Such insolence merits the punishment which
the sinner usually receives. Rejecting the opportunity God gives him for
amendment, he is denied the time he has presumptuously chosen for
penance, and thus miserably perishes in his sins. Since the number who
are thus chastised is very great, let us profit by their misfortunes and
heed the counsel of the Wise Man: "Delay not to be converted to the
Lord, and defer it not from day to day. For his wrath shall come on a sudden,
and in the time of vengeance he will destroy thee." (Ecclus.
5:8-9).
But, even granting that you will live
as long as you imagine, will it be easier to begin your conversion now or
some years hence? To make this point clear we shall give a brief summary
of the causes which render a sincere conversion difficult. The first of
these causes is the tyranny of bad habits. So strong are these that many
would die rather than relinquish them. Hence St. Jerome declares that a
long habit of sin robs virtue of all its sweetness. For habit becomes
second nature, and to overcome it we must conquer nature itself, which is
the greatest victory a man can achieve.
"When a vice is confirmed by
habit," says St. Bernard, "it cannot be extirpated except by a
very special and even miraculous grace." Therefore, there is nothing
which a Christian should dread more than a habit of vice, because, like
other things in this world, vice claims prescription, and once that is
established it is almost impossible to root it out. A second cause of
this difficulty is the absolute power which the devil has over a soul in
sin. He is then the strongly-armed man mentioned in the Gospel, who does
not easily relinquish what he has acquired. Another cause of this
difficulty is the separation which sin makes between God and the soul.
Though represented in Scripture (Cf. Is. 60) as a sentinel
guarding the walls of Jerusalem, God withdraws further and further from a
sinful soul, in proportion as her vices increase. We can learn the
deplorable condition into which this separation plunges the soul from God
Himself, who exclaims by His prophet, "Woe to them, for they have
departed from me. Woe to them when I shall depart from them." (Osee
7:13 and 9:12). This abandonment by God is the second woe of which St. John
speaks in the Apocalypse.
The last cause of this difficulty is
the corruption of sin, which weakens and impairs the faculties of the
soul, not in themselves, but in their operations and effects. Sin darkens
the understanding, excites the sensual appetites, and, though leaving it
free, so weakens the will that it is unable to govern us. Being the
instruments of the soul, what but trouble and disorder can be expected
from these faculties in their weak and helpless state? How, then, can you
think that your conversion will be easier in the future, since every day
increases the obstacles you now dread, and weakens the forces with which
you must combat them? If you cannot ford the present stream, how will you
pass through it when it will have swollen to an angry torrent? Perhaps
you are now a prey to a dozen vices, which you tremble to attack. With
what courage, but especially with what success, will you attack them when
they will have increased a hundredfold in numbers and power? If you are
now baffled by a year or two of sinful habits, how can you resist their
strength at the end of ten years? Do you not see that this is a snare of
the archenemy, who deceived our first parents, and who is continually
seeking to deceive us also?
Can you, then, doubt that you only
increase the difficulties of your conversion by deferring it? Do you
think that the more numerous your crimes, the easier it will be to obtain
a pardon? Do you think that it will be easier to effect a cure when the
disease will have become chronic? "A long sickness is troublesome to
the physician, but a short one" that is, one which is taken in the
beginning "is easily cut off." (Ecclus. 10:11-12).
Hear how an angel disabused a holy
solitary of an illusion like yours: Taking him by the hand, he led him
into a field and showed him a man gathering fagots. Finding the bundle he
had collected too heavy, the woodcutter began to add to it; and
perceiving that he was still less able to lift it, he continued to add to
the quantity, imagining that he would thus carry it more easily. The holy
man wondering at what he saw, the angel said to him: Such is the folly of
men, who, unable to remove the present burden of their sins, continue to
add to it sin after sin, foolishly supposing that they will more easily
lift a heavier burden in the future.
But among all these obstacles, the
greatest is the tyranny of evil habits. Would that I could make you
understand the power with which they bind us! As each blow of the hammer
drives a nail further and further into the wood, until it can hardly be
withdrawn, so every sinful action is a fresh blow which sinks vices
deeper and deeper into our souls until it is almost impossible to uproot
them. Thus it is not rare to see the sinner in his old age a prey to
vices which have dishonored his youth, in which he is no longer capable
of finding pleasure, and which his years and the weakness of nature would
repel, were he not bound to them by long-continued habit. Are we not told
in Scripture that "the bones of the sinner shall be filled with the
vices of his youth, and that they shall sleep with him in the dust"?
(Job 20:11). Thus we see that even death does not terminate the
habit of vice; its terrible effects pass into eternity. It becomes a
second nature, and is so imprinted iri the sinner's flesh that it
consumes him like a fatal poison for which there is scarcely any remedy.
This Our Saviour teaches us in the
resurrection of Lazarus. He had raised other dead persons by a single
word, but to restore Lazarus, who had been four days in the tomb, He had
recourse to tears and prayers, to show us the miracle God effects when he
raises to the life of grace a soul buried in a habit of sin. For,
according to St. Augustine, the first of these four days represents the
pleasure of sin; the second, the consent; the third, the act; and the
fourth, the habit of sin. Therefore, the sinner who has reached this
fourth day can only be restored to life by the tears and prayers of Our
Saviour.
But let us suppose that you will not be
disappointed, that you will live to do penance. Think of the inestimable
treasures you are now losing and how bitterly you will regret them when
too late. While your fellow Christians are enriching themselves for
Heaven, you are idling away your time in the childish follies of the
world.
Besides this, think of the evil you are
accumulating. We i should not, says St. Augustine, commit one venial sin
even to gain the whole world. How, then, can you so carelessly heap up
mortal sins, when the salvation of a thousand worlds would not justify
one? How dare you offend with impunity Him at whose feet you must kneel
for mercy, in whose hands lies your eternal destiny? Can you afford to
defy Him of whom you have such urgent need?
"Tell me," says St. Bernard,
"you who live in sin, do you think God will pardon you or not? If
you think He will reject you, is it not foolish to continue to sin when
you have no hope of pardon? And if you rely upon His goodness to pardon
you, notwithstanding your innumerable offences, what can be more base
than the ingratitude with which you presume upon His mercy, which,
instead of exciting you to love Him, only leads you to offend Him?"
How can you answer this argument of the saint?
Consider also the tears with which you
will expiate your present sins. If God visits you one day, if He causes
you to hear His voice (and alas for you if He does not!), be assured that
the remorse for your sins will be so bitter that you will wish you had
suffered a thousand deaths rather than have offended so good a Master.
David indulged but a short time in sinful pleasures, yet behold how
bitter was his sorrow, how long he wept for his sins. "I have
labored in my goanings," he cried; "every night I will wash my
bed, I will water my couch with my tears." (Ps. 6:7). Why,
then, will you sow what you can only reap in tears? Consider, moreover,
the obstacles to virtue which continual sin establishes in us. Moses
compelled the children of Israel, in punishment of their idolatry, to
drink the ashes of the golden calf which they had adored. (Cf. Ex.
32:20). God often inflicts a like punishment upon sinners, permitting
their very bones to become so impregnated with the effects of sin that
the idol which they formerly worshipped becomes for them a punishment and
a constant source of torment.
Let me call your attention to the
foolish choice you make in selecting old age as a time for repentance,
and permitting your youth to go fruitlessly by. What would you think of a
man who, having several beasts of burden, put all the weight upon the
weakest, letting the others go unloaded`! Greater is the folly of those
Christians who assign all the burden of penance to old age, which can
hardly support itself, and who spend in idleness the vigorous years of
youth. Seneca has admirably said that he who waits until old age to
practice virtue clearly shows that he desires to give to virtue only the
time of which he can make no other use. (De Brev. Vitae, cap.15).
And do not lose sight of the
satisfaction God requires for sin, which is so great that, in the opinion
of St. John Climachus, man can with difficulty satisfy each day for the
faults he commits each day. Why, then, will you continue to accumulate
the debt of sin and defer its payment to old age, which can so poorly
satisfy for its own transgressions? St. Gregory considers this the basest
treason, and says that he who defers the duty of penance to old age falls
far short of the allegiance he owes to God, and has much reason to fear
that he will be a victim of God's justice rather than the object of that
mercy upon which he has so rashly presumed.
But apart from all these
considerations, if you have any sense of justice or honesty, will not the
benefits you have received and the rewards you are promised induce you to
be less sparing in the service of so liberal a Master? How wise is the
counsel we read in Ecclesiasticus: "Let nothing hinder thee from
praying always, and be not afraid to be justified even to death; for the
reward of God continueth for ever." (Ecclus. 18:22). Since
the reward is to continue as long as God remains in Heaven, why should
not your service continue as long as you remain upon earth? If the
duration of the recompense is limitless, why will you limit the time of
your service?
You hope, no doubt, to be saved;
therefore, you must believe yourself of the number of those whom God has
predestined. Will you, then, wait until the end of your life to serve Him
who has loved you and chosen you heir to His kingdom from all eternity?
Will you be so ungenerous with Him whose generosity to you has been boundless?
The span of human life is so limited, how can you dare rob this generous
Benefactor of the greatest part, leaving Him only the smallest and most
worthless portion? "Dregs alone," says Seneca, "remain at
the bottom of a vessel." "Cursed is the deceitful man,"
says God, "that hath in his flock a male, and making a vow offereth
in sacrifice that which is feeble to the Lord; for I am a great King,
saith the Lord of hosts, and my name is dreadful among the
Gentiles." (Mal.1:14).
In other words, none but great services
are worthy of His greatness. Imperfect offerings are an affront to His
majesty. Will you, then, give the best and most beautiful part of your
life to the service of the devil, and reserve for God only that portion
which the world refuses? He has said that there shall not be in thy house
a greater measure and a less; that thou shalt have a just and true
weight. (Cf. Deut. 25:14-15). Yet, in contradiction to this law,
you have two unequal measures a great one for the devil, whom you treat
as your friend, and a small one for God, whom you treat as your enemy.
If all these benefits fail to touch
you, do not be insensible to the favor your Heavenly Father has conferred
upon you in giving His Divine Son to redeem you. Were you possessed of an
infinite number of lives, you would owe them all in payment and they
would be but a small return for that Life, more precious than that of
angels and men, which was offered for you. How, then, can you refuse the
service of your miserable life to Him who sacrificed Himself for you?
I shall conclude this chapter with a
passage from Ecclesiastes in which man is exhorted to give himself to the
service of his Creator in his youth, and not to defer it till old age,
the infirmities of which are described under curious and admirable
figures: "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, before the
time of affliction comes, and the years draw nigh of which thou shalt
say: They please me not. Before the sun, and the light, and the moon, and
the stars be darkened
when the keepers of the house [that is, the
hands] shall tremble, and the strong men [the legs, which support the
frame] shall stagger, and the teeth shall be few and idle; when they that
looked through the eyes [the faculties of the soul] shall be darkened;
when they shall shut the doors in the street [that is, the senses by
which we communicate with the outer world]
when man shall rise with the
bird [for old age requires little sleep]; when all the daughters of music
shall grow deaf [for the organs of the voice grow weak and narrow]; when
man shall fear high things and be afraid in the way [for old age shuns a
steep and rugged way, and trembles as it walks]; when the almond tree
shall flourish [that is, when the head shall be crowned with white hair]
when man shall enter the house of his eternity [which is the tomb];
when his friends shall lament and mourn for him
and when dust shall
return to the earth whence it came, and the spirit shall return to God
who gave it." (Eccles. 12:1-7).
Therefore, defer not your repentance
until old age, when virtue will seem a necessity rather than a choice,
and when it may be said that your vices have left you, rather than that
you have left them. Remember, however, that old age is generally what
youth has been: For as the sacred writer observes, "how shalt thou
find in thy old age the things thou hast not gathered in thy youth?"
(Ecclus. 25:5). Let me urge you, then, in the words of the same inspired
author, to "give thanks whilst thou art living and in health, to praise
God and glory in His mercies." (Ecclus. 17:27).
Among those who waited at the pool of
Bethsaida (Cf. Jn. 5:4), he only was cured who first plunged into
the water after it had been moved by the angel. The salvation of our
soul, in like manner, depends upon the promptness and submission with
which we obey the inspiration with which God moves us. Delay not,
therefore, dear Christian, but make all the haste you can; and if, as the
prophet says, "you shall hear his voice today" (Ps.
94:8), defer not your answer till tomorrow, but set about a work the
difficulty of which will be so much lessened by a timely beginning.
CHAPTER 25
Of those who Defer their Conversion
until the Hour of Death
The arguments we have just stated should
certainly be sufficient to convince men of the folly of deathbed
repentances; for if it be so dangerous to defer penance from day to day,
what must be the consequence of deferring it until the hour of death? But
as this is a very general error, causing the ruin of many souls, we shall
devote a special chapter to it. The reflections which we are about to
make may alarm and discourage weak souls, but the consequences of
presumption are still more fatal, for a greater number is lost through
false confidence than through excessive fear. Therefore, we, who are one
of the sentinels mentioned by Ezechiel, must warn you of these dangers,
that you may not rush blindly to your ruin, and that your blood may not
be upon us. As the safest light for us is that of Holy Scripture,
interpreted by the Fathers and Doctors of the Church, we shall first
study their opinions on this subject, and afterwards we shall learn what
God Himself teaches us by His inspired writers.
Before entering upon the subject we
must bear in mind an undeniable principle, concerning which St. Augustine
and all the holy Doctors are agreed namely, that as true repentance is
the work of God, so He can inspire it when and where he wills. Hence if
the heart of the sinner, even at the hour of death, be filled with true
contrition for his sins, it will avail him for salvation. But, to show
you how rare such examples of repentance are, I shall give you the
testimony of the saints and Doctors of the Church. I do not ask you to
believe me, but believe them, the chosen instruments of the Holy Ghost.
And first hear St. Augustine. In a work
entitled, True and False Penance he says, "Let no one hope to
do penance when he can no longer sin. God wishes us to perform this work
cheerfully and not through compulsion. Therefore, he who, instead of
leaving his sins, waits until they leave him, acts from necessity rather
than from choice. For this reason they who would not return to God when
they could, but are willing to seek Him when they are no longer able to
sin, will not so easily obtain what they desire." Speaking of the
character of true conversion, he says, "He is truly converted who
turns to God with his whole heart, who not only fears punishment but
earnestly desires to merit God's graces and favors. Should anyone turn to
God in this way, even at the end of his life, we would have no reason to
despair of his salvation. But as examples of this perfect conversion are
very rare, we cannot but tremble for one who defers his repentance until
the hour of death.
"Moreover, if he obtain the pardon
of his sins, their temporal punishment is not remitted; he must expiate
them in the fire of Purgatory, the pain of which is greater than any
suffering known on earth. Never did the martyrs in their most terrible
torments, never did malefactors, though subjected to all the cruelties
which human malice could invent, endure sufferings equal to those of
Purgatory. Let him, then, if he would avoid these dreadful punishments
after death, begin from this time to amend his life."
St. Ambrose, in his book on penance,
which some attribute to St. Augustine, treats of this subject at great
length. Here is one of the many excellent things he tells us: "If a
man ask for the sacrament of penance on his deathbed, we do not refuse
him what he asks, but we are far from assuring you that if he dies after
it he is on the way to Heaven. It is more than we dare affirm or promise,
for we. would not deceive you. But if you would be relieved of this
uncertainty, if you would dissipate this doubt, do penance for your sins
while you are in health, and then I can positively assure you that you
will be in a good way, for you will have repented for your crimes when
you might have been increasing them. If, on the contrary, you defer your
repentance until you are no longer able to sin, it will not be that you
have abandoned your sins, but rather that they have abandoned you."
St. Isidore forcibly expresses the same
truth: "If you would have a hope of being pardoned your sins at the
hour of death, do penance for them while you are able. But if you spend
your life in wickedness, and still hope for forgiveness at your death,
you are running a most serious risk. Though you are not sure that you
will be damned, your salvation is by no means more certain."
The authorities which we have just
quoted are very alarming; yet the words of St. Jerome, uttered as he lay
in sackcloth upon the ground awaiting his last hour, are still more
terrifying. I dare not give his words in all their rigor, lest I should
discourage weak souls; but I refer him who desires to read them to an
epistle on the death of St. Jerome written by his disciple, Eusebius, to
a bishop named Damasus. I will quote only this passage: "He who
daily perseveres in sin will probably say: 'When I am going to die I shall
do penance.' Oh! Melancholy consolation! Penance at the hour of death is
a very doubtful remedy for him who has always done evil, and has thought
of penance only as a dream, to be realized in the uncertain future.
Wearied by suffering; distracted with grief at parting from family,
friends, and worldly possessions which he can no longer enjoy; a prey to
bitter anguish how will he raise his heart to God or conceive a true
sorrow for his sins? He has never done so in life, and he would not do it
now had he any hope of recovery. What kind of penance must that be which
a man performs when life itself is leaving him? I have known rich
worldlings who have recovered from bodily sickness only to render the
health of their souls still more deplorable. Here is what I think, what I
know, for I have learned it by a long experience: If he who has been a
slave to sin during life die a happy death, it is only by an
extraordinary miracle of grace."
St. Gregory expresses himself not less
strongly upon this subject. Writing upon these words of Job, "What
is the hope of the hypocrite, if through covetousness he take by
violence? Will God hear his cry when distress shall come upon him?"
(Job 27:8-9) he says, "If a man be deaf to God's voice in
prosperity, God will refuse to hear him in adversity, for it is written:
'He that turneth away his ears from hearing the law, his prayer shall be
an abomination.'" (Prov. 28:9). And Hugh of St. Victor,
comprehending in one sentence the teaching of the Fathers, says, "It
is very difficult for that penance to be true which comes at the hour of
death, for we have much reason to suspect it because it is forced."
You now know the sentiments of these
great Doctors of the Church on deathbed repentance. See, then, what folly
it would be in you to contemplate without fear a passage of which the
most skillful pilots speak with terror. A lifetime is not too long to
learn how to die well. At the hour of death our time is sufficiently
occupied in dying. We have then no leisure to learn the lesson of dying
well.
The teaching of the Fathers which we
have just given is also the teaching of the doctors of the schools. Among
the many authorities whom we could quote we shall select Scotus, one of
the most eminent, who, after treating this subject at great length,
concludes that conversion at the hour of death is so difficult that it is
rarely true repentance. He supports his conclusion by these four reasons:
First, because the physical pains and
weakness which precede death prevent a man from elevating his heart to
God or fulfilling the duties of true repentance. To understand this you
must know that uncontrolled passions lead man's free will where they
please. Now, philosophers teach that the passions which excite sorrow are
much stronger than those which cause joy. Hence it follows that no
passions, no sentiments, exceed in intensity the passions and sentiments
awakened by the approach of death,; for, as Aristotle tells us, death is
the most terrible of all terrible things. To sufferings of body it unites
anguish of soul awakened by parting from loved ones and from all that
bind our affections to this world. When, therefore, the passions are so
strong and turbulent, whither can man's will and thoughts turn but to
those things to which these violent emotions draw them? We see how
difficult it is even for a man exercised in virtue to turn his thoughts
to God or spiritual things when his body is racked with pain. How much
more difficult will it be for the sinner to turn his thoughts from his
body, which he has always preferred to his soul!
I myself knew a man who enjoyed a
reputation for virtue, but who, when told that his last hour was at hand,
was so terrified that he could think of nothing but applying remedies to
ward off the terrible moment. A priest who was present exhorted him to
turn his thoughts to his soul's interests; but he impatiently repelled
his counsels, and in these disedifying dispositions soon after expired.
Judge by this example the trouble which the presence of death excites in
those who have an inordinate love for this life, if one who loves it in
moderation clings to it so tenaciously, regardless of the interests of
the life to come.
The second reason given by Scotus is
that repentance should be voluntary, not forced. Hence St. Augustine
tells us that a man must not only fear, but also love his Judge. We
cannot think that one who has refused to repent during life, and only has
recourse to this remedy at the hour of death, seeks it freely and
voluntarily.
Such was the repentance of Semei for
his outrage against David when he fled from his son Absalom. When King
David returned in triumph, Semei went forth to meet him with tears and
supplications; but though David then spared his life, on his deathbed he
enjoined his son Solomon to deal with the traitor according to his
deserts. (Cf. 2Kg. 16 and 17 and 3Kg. 2). Similar is the
repentance of Christians who, after outraging God with impunity during
life, piteously claim His mercy at the hour of death. We may judge of the
sincerity of such repentance by the conduct of many who have been
restored to health, for they are no sooner released from the imminent
fear of death than they relapse into the same disorders. The salutary
sentiments excited by fear, and not by virtue, vanish when the danger is
past.
The third reason is that a habit of sin
confirmed by long indulgence accompanies man as inseparably as the shadow
does the body, even to the tomb. It becomes, as we have said, a second
nature which it is almost impossible to conquer. How often do we see old
men on the verge of the grave as hardened to good, and as eager for
honors and wealth, which they know they cannot take with them, as if they
were at the beginning of their career!
This is a punishment, says St. Gregory,
which God frequently inflicts upon sin, permitting it to accompany its
author even to the tomb; for the sinner, who has forgotten God during
life, too often forgets his own eternal interest at this terrible hour.
We have frequent and striking proof of this, for how often do we hear of
persons who refuse to be separated from the objects of their sinful love
even at their last hour, and, by a just judgment of God, expire wholly
forgetful of what is due to their Maker and their own souls!
The fourth reason given by Scotus is
taken from the value of actions done at such a time; for it is manifest
to all who have any knowledge of God that He is much less pleased with
services offered at this hour than with the same services offered under
different circumstances. "What merit is there," says the virgin
and martyr St. Lucy, "in giving up what you are forced to
leave," in pardoning an injury which it would be a dishonor to
avenge, or in breaking sinful bonds which you can no longer maintain?
From these reasons this doctor
concludes that repentance at the hour of death is a dangerous and
difficult matter. He goes even further, and affirms that the act by which
a Christian deliberately resolves to defer his conversion till the hour
of death is in itself a mortal sin, because of the injury he thereby
inflicts on his soul, and because of the peril to which he exposes his
salvation.
As the final decision of this question
depends on the word of God, I pray you to hear what He teaches us through
Holy Scripture. The Eternal Wisdom, after inviting men to practice
virtue, utters by the mouth of Solomon the following malediction against
those who are deaf to His voice: "Because I called, and you refused:
I stretched out my hand, and there was none that regarded. You have
despised all my counsels, and have neglected my reprehensions. I also
will laugh in your destruction, and will mock when that shall come to you
which you feared. When sudden calamity shall fall on you, and
destruction, as a tempest, shall be at hand; when tribulation and
distress shall come upon you, then shall they call upon me, and I will
not hear. They shall rise in the morning, and shall not find me, because
they have hated instruction, and received not the fear of the Lord, nor
consented to my counsel, but despised all my reproof." (Prov.
1:24-31).
We have the authority of St. Gregory
for saying that these words of the Holy Ghost apply to our present
subject. Are they not sufficient to open your eyes and determine you to
save yourself from God's vengeance by a timely preparation for this
terrible hour?
In the New Testament we find no less
striking authority. Our Saviour, when speaking to His Apostles of the day
of His coming, never fails to warn them to be always ready. "Blessed
is that servant," He says, "whom when his lord shall come he
shall find watching. Amen I say to you, he shall place him over all his
goods. But if the evil servant shall say in his heart: My lord is long
coming, and shall begin to strike his fellow servants, and shall eat and
drink with drunkards, the lord of that servant shall come in a day that
he hopeth not, and at an hour that he knoweth not, and shall separate
him, and appoint his portion with the hypocrites. There shall be weeping
and gnashing of teeth." (Matt. 24:46-51). In this parable Our
Saviour, who reads the secret designs of the wicked, tells them what they
are to expect and what will be the result of their vain confidence. You
are this bad servant, since you cherish the same designs in your heart
and seize the present time to eat and drink and gratify every passion.
Why do you not fear the wrath of Him who is all-powerful to execute what
He threatens? It is to you that His menaces are addressed. Awake, unhappy
soul, and hasten to profit by the time that remains to you!
We are devoting much time to this
subject, which ought to be clear to all, but we must do so, since there
are so many unhappy Christians who endeavor to satisfy their consciences
with this false excuse. Hear, then, another lesson of Our Saviour:
"Then shall the Kingdom of heaven," He says, "be like to
ten virgins who, taking their lamps, went out to meet the bridegroom and
the bride." What time does Our Saviour indicate by "then"?
The hour of general judgment and of each particular judgment, St.
Augustine replies, for the sentence uttered in secret immediately after
death will be ratified before all men on the last day. Five of these
virgins were wise and five were foolish, Our Saviour continues. The
foolish virgins took no oil with them for their lamps, and when at
midnight a time of profoundest slumber, when men give least thought to
their interests a cry was heard, "The bridegroom cometh," all
the virgins arose, and they who had trimmed their lamps and furnished
them with oil went in to the marriage, and the door was shut. When the
foolish virgins, who had gone to seek oil for their lamps, came, saying:
"Lord, Lord, open to us," He answered them saying, "Amen I
say to you, I know you not." Our Saviour concludes the parable with
these words: "Watch, therefore, because you know not the day nor the
hour." Could we ask a plainer warning than this? Could we desire a
clearer condemnation of the folly of those who rely on deathbed
repentances?
You will perhaps urge in opposition to
all this that the good thief was saved at the last hour. St. Augustine
answers this objection by saying that the good thief received in one hour
the grace of conversion and baptism, which being immediately followed by
death, his soul went directly to Paradise. Moreover, the conversion of
the good thief was one of the many miracles which marked Our Saviour's
coming, one of the chief testimonies to His glory. The rocks were rent;
the earth trembled; the sun refused to give its light; the graves were
opened and the dead came forth to bear witness to the divinity of Him who
was crucified. For a like purpose the grace of repentance was bestowed on
the good thief, whose confession of Christ was no less wonderful than his
conversion, for he acknowledged Christ when the Apostles fled from Him
and denied Him; he glorified Christ when the world blasphemed and
insulted Him. This miracle being one of the extraordinary marvels marking
the coming of Christ, it is folly to expect that it will be repeated in
our behalf. No; St. Paul tells us that the end of the wicked corresponds to
their works. This is a truth which is constantly repeated in Holy
Scripture. It is sung by the psalmist, foretold by the prophets,
announced by the Evangelists, and preached by the Apostles.
Others argue that attrition joined to
the sacraments suffices to obtain the pardon of sin, and claim that at
the hour of death they will have at least attrition. But they should
remember that the attrition which, joined to the sacraments, obtains the
pardon of sin, is a special degree of sorrow, and God only can know whether
they possess it.
The holy Doctors were not ignorant of
the efficacy of attrition joined to the sacraments; yet see how little
confidence they had in deathbed repentances. "We give the ;
sacrament of Penance to such a sinner who asks for it," says St.
Ambrose, "but we give him no assurance of salvation."
If you cite the example of the
Ninivites, whose conversion was the effect of fear, I would remind you
not only of the rigorous penance they performed, but of the amendment which
was wrought in their lives. Let there be the same amendment in your life,
and you will not fail to find equal mercy. But when I see that you no
sooner recover your health than you relapse into your former disorders,
what am I to think of your repentance?
What we have said in this and the
preceding chapters is not intended to close the door of hope or salvation
against anyone. Our only intention is to rout the sinner from the
stronghold in which he entrenches himself that he may continue to sin.
Tell me, dear Christian, for the love of God, how you dare expose
yourself to such peril when the Fathers of the Church, the saints, Holy
Scripture, and reason itself unite in warning you of the dangers
attending a repentance deferred until the hour of death? In what do you
place your confidence? In the prayers and Masses you will have offered
for you? In the money you will leave for good works?
Alas! The foolish virgins filled their
lamps at the last hour, but they called in vain upon the Bridegroom. Do
you think your tears will avail you at that time? Tears, no doubt, are
powerful, and blessed is he who weeps in sincerity; but your tears, like
those of Esau, who sold his birthright to satisfy his gluttony, will
flow, not for your sins, but for what you have lost; and like his, as the
Apostle tells us, they will flow in vain. (Cf. Neb. 12:17). Will
your promises and good resolutions help you? Good resolutions are
excellent when sincere, but remember what edifying and valiant
resolutions Antiochus formed when the hand of God had been laid upon him.
Yet Holy Scripture tells us, "This wicked man prayed to the Lord, of
whom he was not to obtain mercy." (2Mac. 9:13). And why?
Because his good purposes and resolutions sprang not from love, but from
servile fear, which, though commendable, is not sufficient of itself to
justify the sinner. The fear of Hell can arise from the love man
naturally bears himself, but love of self gives us no right to Heaven. As
no one clothed in sackcloth could enter the palace of Assuerus (Cf. Esther
4:2), so no one can enter Heaven clothed in the dress of a slave that
is, with the garment of servile fear. We must be clothed with the wedding
garment of love, if we would be admitted to the palace of the King of
kings.
I conjure you, then, dear Christian, to
think of this hour which must inevitably come to you. And it may not be
far distant. But a few years, and you will experience the truth of my
predictions. You will find yourself distracted with pain, filled with
anguish and terror at the approach of death and at the thought of the
eternal sentence which is about to be pronounced upon you. Vainly will
you then essay to change it, to soften its rigor. But that which will be
impossible then is not only possible but easily accomplished now, for it
is in your own power to make your sentence what you will wish it at the
hour of death. Lose no time, therefore; hasten to propitiate your Judge.
Follow the counsel of the prophet, and "seek the Lord while he may
be found; call upon him while he is near." (Is. 55:6). He is
now near to hear us, though we cannot see Him. On the day of judgment we
shall see Him, but He will not hear us, unless we live so as to merit
this blessing from Him.
CHAPTER 26
Of those who Continue in Sin, trusting
in the Mercy of God
Besides those who defer their
conversion till the hour of death, there are others who persevere in sin,
trusting in the mercy of God and the merits of His Passion. We must now
disabuse them of this illusion.
You say that God's mercy is great,
since He died on the cross for the salvation of sinners. It is indeed
great, and a striking proof of its greatness is the fact that He bears
with the blasphemy and malice of those who so presume upon the merits of
His death as to make His cross, which was intended to destroy the kingdom
of evil, a reason for multiplying sin. Had you a thousand lives you would
owe them all to Him, yet you rob Him of that one life which you have and
for which He died. This crime was more bitter to Our Saviour than death
itself. For it He reproaches us by the mouth of His prophet, though He
does not complain of His sufferings: "The wicked have wrought upon
my back; they have extended their iniquity." (Ps. 128:3).
Who taught you to reason that because
God was good you could sin with impunity? Such is not the teaching of the
Holy Spirit. On the contrary, those who listen to His voice reason thus:
God is good; therefore, I must serve Him, obey Him, and love Him above
all things. God is good; therefore, I will turn to Him with all my heart;
I will hope for pardon, notwithstanding the number and enormity of my
sins. God is good; therefore, I must be good if I would imitate Him. God
is good; therefore, it would be base ingratitude in me to offend Him by
sin.
Thus, the greater you represent God's
goodness the more heinous are your crimes against Him. Nor will these
offenses remain unpunished, for God's justice, which protects His mercy,
cannot permit your sinful abuse of it to remain unavenged.
This is not a new pretext; the world
has long made use of it. In ancient times it distinguished the false from
the true prophets. While the latter announced to the people, in God's
name, the justice with which He would punish their Μ iniquities, the
former, speaking in their own name, promised them mercy which was but a
false peace and security.
You say God's mercy is great; but if
you presume upon it you show that you have never studied the greatness of
His justice. Had you done so you would cry out to the Lord with the
psalmist: "Who knoweth the power of thy anger, and for thy fear who
can number thy wrath?" (Ps. 89:11-12).
But to dissipate your illusion, let me
ask you to contemplate this justice in the only way in which we may have
any knowledge of it that is, in its effects here below.
Besides the result we are seeking, we
shall reap another excellent advantage by exciting in our hearts the fear
of God, which, in the opinion of the saints, is the treasure and defence
of the soul. Without the fear of God the soul is like a ship without
ballast; the winds of human or divine favor may sweep it to destruction.
Notwithstanding that she may be richly laden with virtue, she is in
continual danger of being wrecked on the rocks of temptation, if she be
not stayed by this ballast of the fear of God. Therefore, not only those
who have just entered God's service, but those who have long been of His
household, should continue in this salutary fear; the former by reason of
their past transgressions, the latter on account of their weakness, which
exposes them to danger at every moment.
This holy fear is the effect of grace,
and is preserved in the soul by frequent meditation. To aid you in this
reflection we shall here propose a few of the practical proofs of the
greatness of God's justice.
The first work of God's justice was the
reprobation of the angels. "All the ways of God are mercy and
justice" (Cf. Ps. 24:10), says David; but until the fall of
the angels, divine justice had not been manifested. It had been shut up
in the bosom of God like a sword in the scabbard, like that sword of
which Ezechiel speaks with alarm, foretelling the ruin it will cause.
(Cf. Ezech. 21). This first sin drew the sword of justice from its
scabbard, and terrible was the destruction it wrought. Contemplate its
effects; raise your eyes and behold one of the most brilliant beings of
God's house, a resplendent image of the divine beauty, flung with
lightning-like rapidity from a glorious throne in Heaven to the uttermost
depths of Hell, for one thought of pride. (Cf. Lk, 10:18). The
prince of heavenly spirits becomes the chief of devils. His beauty and
glory are changed into deformity and ignominy. God's favorite subject is
changed into His bitterest enemy, and will continue such for all
eternity. With what awe this must have filled the angels, who knew the
greatness of his fall! With what astonishment they repeat the words of
Isaias: "How art thou fallen from heaven, 0 Lucifer, who didst rise
in the morning"? (Is. 14:12).
Consider also the fall of man, which
would have been no less terrible than that of the angels, if it had not
been repaired. Behold in it the cause of all the miseries we suffer on
earth: original and actual sin, suffering of body and mind, death, and
the ruin of numberless souls who have been lost forever. Terrible are the
calamities it brought upon us; and even greater would be our misfortunes
had not Christ, by His death, bound the power of sin and redeemed us from
its slavery. How rigorous, therefore, was the justice of God in thus
punishing man's rebellion; but how great was His goodness in restoring
him to His friendship!
In addition to the penalties imposed on
the human race for the sin of Adam, new and repeated punishments have at
different times been inflicted upon mankind for the crimes they have
committed. In the time of Noe, the whole world was destroyed by the
deluge. (Cf. Gen. 7). Fire and brimstone from Heaven consumed the
wicked inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrha. (Cf. Gen. 19). The earth
opened and swallowed alive into Hell Core, Dathan, and Abiron for
resisting the authority of Moses. (Cf. Num. 16). Nadab and Abiu,
sons of Aaron, were destroyed by a sudden flame from the sanctuary
because they offered strange fire in the sacrifice. (Cf. Lev. 10).
Neither their priestly character, nor the sanctity of their father, nor
the intimacy with God of their uncle, Moses, could obtain for them any
remission for their fault.
Recall the example of Ananias and
Sapphira, struck dead by God for telling a lie. (Cf. Acts 5). But
the strongest proof of the rigor of God's justice was the satisfaction
required for sin, which was nothing less than the death of His
only-begotten Son. Think of this Price of man's Redemption, and you will
begin to realize what sin is and how the justice of God regards it.
Think, too, of the eternity of Hell, and judge of the rigor of that
justice which inflicts such punishment. This justice terrifies you, but
it is no less certain than the mercy in which you trust. Yes, through
endless ages, God will look upon the indescribable torments of the
damned, but they will excite in Him no compassion; they will not move Him
to limit their sufferings or give them any hope of relief. Oh! Mysterious
depths of divine justice! Who can reflect upon them and not tremble?
Another subject to which I would call
your serious attention is the state of the world. Reflect on this, and
you will begin to realize the rigors of God's justice.
As an increase in virtue is the effect
and reward of virtue, so likewise an increase in sin is the effect and
punishment of sin. Indeed, it is one of the greatest chastisements that
can be inflicted on us, when we are permitted, through blindness and
passion, to rush headlong down the broad road of vice, adding sin to sin
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