A bitch, ready to whelp, earnestly begged a shepherd for a place where she might litter. When her request was granted, she besought permission to rear her puppies in the same spot. The shepherd again consented. But at last the bitch, protected by the bodyguard of her whelps, who had now grown up and were able to defend themselves, asserted her exclusive right to the place and would not permit the shepherd to approach.
Saturday, 25 March 2017
Friday, 24 March 2017
"Apparecchio alla Morte" by St Alfonso Maria de Liguori (in Italian) - XI
CONSIDERAZIONE X - MEZZI PER
APPARECCHIARSI ALLA MORTE
«Memorare novissima tua, et in aeternum non peccabis»
(Eccli. 7. 40).
PUNTO I
Tutti confessano che si ha da morire, e morire una sola
volta; e che non vi è cosa di maggiore
conseguenza di questa, poiché dal punto della morte dipende l'esser beato, o
disperato per sempre. Tutti sanno poi che dal viver bene o male dipende il fare
una buona o mala morte. E poi come va che dalla maggior parte de' cristiani si
vive, come non si avesse mai a morire, o come poco importasse il morir bene o
male? Si vive male, perché non si pensa alla morte: «Memorare novissima tua, et
in aeternum non peccabis». Bisogna persuaderci
che 'l tempo della morte non è proprio per aggiustare i conti, affin di
assicurare il gran negozio dell'eterna salute. I prudenti del mondo negli
affari di terra prendono a tempo opportuno tutte le misure per ottenere quel
guadagno, quel posto, quel matrimonio; per la sanità del corpo non differiscono
punto i rimedi necessari. Che diresti di taluno, che dovesse andare a qualche
duello o concorso di cattedra, se volesse attendere ad istruirsi, quando è già
arrivato il tempo? Non sarebbe pazzo quel capitano, che in tempo dell'assedio
si riserbasse a far la provvisione de' viveri e dell'armi? Non pazzo quel
nocchiero, che trascurasse a provvedersi d'ancore e di gomene sino al tempo
della tempesta? Tale appunto è quel cristiano, che si riduce ad aggiustar la
coscienza, quando è arrivata la morte. «Cum interitus quasi tempestas
ingruerit... tunc invocabunt me, et non exaudiam; comedent fructus vitae suae»
(Prov. 1. 27). Il tempo della morte è tempo di
tempesta, di confusione; allora i peccatori chiamano Dio in aiuto, ma per solo
timore dell'inferno, a cui si vedon vicini, senza vera conversione, e perciò
Dio non gli esaudisce. E perciò anche
giustamente non assaggeranno allora, che i soli frutti della loro mala vita.
«Quae seminaverit homo, haec et metet». Eh che
non basta allora prendere i sagramenti; bisogna morire odiando il peccato e
amando Dio sopra ogni cosa; ma come odierà i piaceri illeciti, chi sino ad
allora li avrà amati? come amerà Dio allora
sopra ogni cosa, chi sino a quel punto avrà amate le creature più di Dio?
Il Signore chiama stolte
quelle vergini (perché tali erano) che voleano
apparecchiar le lampane, quando già veniva lo
sposo. Tutti temono la morte subitanea, perché allora non vi è tempo di
aggiustare i conti. Tutti confessano che i Santi sono stati i veri savi, perché
si sono preparati alla morte, prima che giungesse la morte. E noi che facciamo?
vogliamo aspettare ad apparecchiarci a morir bene, quando la morte sarà già
vicina? Bisogna dunque fare al presente quel che vorremo aver fatto in morte. Oh che pena dà allora la memoria del tempo
malamente speso! tempo dato da Dio per meritare, ma tempo ch'è passato e non torna più. Che affanno darà allora il sentirsi
dire: «Iam non poteris amplius villicare». Non
ci è più tempo di far penitenza, di frequentar sagramenti, di sentir prediche,
di visitare Gesu-Cristo nelle chiese, di fare orazione; quel ch'è fatto, è
fatto. Vi bisognerebbe allora una mente più sana, un tempo più quieto per far
la confessione, come va fatta, per risolvere diversi punti di scrupoli gravi, e
così quietar la coscienza; ma «tempus non erit amplius».
Affetti e preghiere
Ah mio Dio, s'io moriva in quelle notti che sapete, dove
al presente starei? Vi ringrazio di avermi aspettato, e vi ringrazio per tutti
quelli momenti, in cui avrei avuto a star nell'inferno da quel primo momento,
in cui vi offesi. Deh datemi luce, e fatemi conoscere il gran torto che vi ho
fatto in perdere volontariamente la grazia vostra, che Voi mi avete meritata
col sagrificarvi per me su d'una croce. Deh Gesù mio, perdonatemi, mentr'io mi pento con tutto il cuore sopra ogni male di
avere disprezzato Voi, bontà infinita. Io spero che già mi abbiate perdonato.
Deh aiutatemi, o mio Salvatore, acciocché io non vi perda più. Ah mio Signore,
s'io tornassi ad offendervi dopo tanti lumi e tante grazie da Voi ricevute, non
meriterei un inferno a posta per me? Deh non lo permettete per li meriti di
quel sangue, che avete sparso per amor mio. Datemi la santa perseveranza,
datemi il vostro amore. V'amo, o sommo bene, e non voglio più lasciare d'amarvi
sino alla morte. Dio mio, abbiate pietà di me per amore di Gesu-Cristo.
Abbiate ancora pietà di me, o speranza mia Maria;
raccomandatemi a Dio; le vostre raccomandazioni non hanno ripulsa appresso quel
Signore, che tanto v'ama.
PUNTO II
Presto dunque,
fratello mio, giacché è certo che avete da morire, mettetevi a' piedi del
Crocifisso, ringraziatelo del tempo, che vi dà per sua misericordia di poter
aggiustare la vostra coscienza; e poi date una rivista a tutti gli sconcerti
della vita passata, specialmente a quelli della gioventù. Date un'occhiata a i
divini precetti, esaminate gl'impieghi
esercitati, le conversazioni, che avete frequentate, e notatevi in iscritto le
vostre mancanze, e fatevi una confession generale di tutta la vostra vita, se
non l'avete fatta ancora. Oh quanto giova la confessione generale per mettere
in buon sistema la vita d'un cristiano! Pensate che son conti per l'eternità, e
perciò fateli come ora stessivo in punto di
dovergli rendere a Gesu-Cristo giudice. Discacciate dal cuore ogni affetto
malvagio, ogni rancore: toglietevi ora ogni scrupolo di roba d'altri, di fama
tolta, di scandali dati, e risolvete di fuggir quelle occasioni, in cui potete
perdere Dio. Pensate che quel che ora vi pare difficile, in punto di morte vi
parerà impossibile.
Ciò che importa, risolvete di mettere in pratica i mezzi
per conservarvi in grazia di Dio. I mezzi sono la Messa ogni giorno, la
meditazione delle verità eterne, la frequenza della confessione e Comunione
almeno ogn'otto giorni, la visita ogni giorno al SS. Sagramento e alla divina
Madre, la congregazione, la lezione spirituale, l'esame di coscienza ogni sera,
qualche divozione speciale a Maria SS. con fare il
digiuno nel sabato; e sopra tutto proponete di spesso raccomandarvi a Dio ed
alla B. Vergine con invocare spesso, e specialmente in tempo di tentazioni, i
nomi sagrosanti di Gesù e di Maria. Questi sono
i mezzi, che possono ottenervi una buona morte e la salute eterna.
Il far ciò sarà un gran segno per voi della vostra
predestinazione. Ed in quanto poi al passato, confidate al sangue di Gesu-Cristo, il quale vi dona ora questi lumi,
perché vi vuol salvo, e confidate all'intercessione
di Maria che questi lumi v'impetra. Con tal registro di vita e confidenza in
Gesù e Maria, oh come Dio aiuta, e che forza acquista l'anima! Presto dunque,
lettor mio, datevi tutto a Dio che vi chiama; e cominciate a goder quella pace,
di cui sinora per vostra colpa siete stato privo. E quale pace maggiore può
sentire un'anima che 'l poter dire in porsi a letto la sera: Se stanotte viene
la morte, spero di morire in grazia di Dio! Quale consolazione è l'udire lo
strepito de' tuoni, vedere tremar la terra e star aspettando con rassegnazione
la morte, se Dio così dispone!
Affetti e preghiere
Ah Signor mio, quanto vi ringrazio della luce, che mi
date. Io v'ho lasciato tante volte, vi ho voltato
le spalle; ma Voi non mi avete abbandonato; se mi aveste abbandonato, io sarei
restato cieco, quale ho voluto essere per lo passato: sarei ostinato nel mio
peccato, e non avrei né volontà di lasciarlo, né volontà d'amarvi. Ora mi sento
un gran dolore di avervi offeso, un gran desiderio di stare in grazia vostra:
sento un abborrimento a quei gusti maledetti, che mi hanno fatto perdere la
vostra amicizia: tutte son grazie, che da Voi mi vengono, e mi fanno sperare
che Voi volete perdonarmi e salvarmi. Giacché dunque Voi con tanti peccati miei
non mi avete abbandonato e mi volete salvo; ecco Signore, io tutto a Voi mi
dono, mi pento sopra ogni male d'avervi offeso, e propongo di perdere prima
mille volte la vita, che la grazia vostra. V'amo, mio sommo bene: v'amo, Gesù
mio morto per me: e spero al sangue vostro, che
non permetterete ch'io abbia a separarmi più da voi. No, Gesù mio, non vi
voglio perdere. Vi voglio amar sempre in vita, vi voglio amare in morte, vi
voglio amare per tutta l'eternità. Conservatemi Voi dunque sempre e
accrescetemi l'amore verso di Voi; ve lo cerco
per li vostri meriti.
Maria speranza mia, pregate Gesù per me.
PUNTO III
In oltre, bisogna procurare di ritrovarci in ogni ora
quali desideriamo di ritrovarci in morte. «Beati mortui, qui in Domino
moriuntur» (Apoc. 14). Dice S. Ambrogio che quelli muoiono bene, che al tempo della morte si
trovano già morti al mondo, cioè distaccati da quei beni, da cui la morte
allora a forza avrà da separarci. Sicché bisogna che da ora accettiamo lo
spoglio delle robe, la separazione da' parenti e da tutte le cose di questa
terra. Se ciò non lo facciamo volontariamente in vita, l'avremo a fare
necessariamente in morte, ma allora con estremo dolore e con pericolo della
salute eterna. E con ciò avverte S. Agostino
che giova molto per morir quieto l'aggiustare in vita gl'interessi temporali,
facendo da ora la disposizione de' beni che si han da lasciare, acciocché in
morte la persona s'occupi solo a stringersi con Dio. Allora è bene discorrere
solamente di Dio e del paradiso. Son troppo preziosi quegli ultimi momenti, per
non dissiparli in pensieri di terra. In morte si compisce la corona degli eletti,
poiché allora si fa forse la migliore raccolta di meriti in abbracciare quei
dolori e quella morte con rassegnazione ed amore.
Ma non potrà avere questi buoni sentimenti in morte, chi
non gli ha esercitati in vita. A tal fine alcuni divoti con molto loro profitto
praticano di rinnovare in ogni mese la Protesta della morte cogli atti
cristiani, dopo essersi confessati e comunicati figurandosi di trovarsi già
moribondi vicini ad uscire di vita. («Nel nostro libretto della Visita al SS.
Sagramento, vi è questa Protesta cogli atti,
che può leggersi in poco tempo, perché è breve»). Ciò che non si fa in vita, è
molto difficile farlo in morte. La gran serva di Dio suor Catarina di S.
Alberto Teresiana morendo sospirava e dicea:
Sorelle, io non sospiro per timor della morte, perché da 25 anni la sto
aspettando, sospiro in vedere tanti ingannati, che menano la vita in peccato e
si riducono a far pace con Dio in morte, quand'io appena posso pronunziare
Gesù.
Esaminate dunque, fratello mio, se ora tenete attaccato
il cuore a qualche cosa di terra, a quella persona, a quell'onore, a quella
casa, a quei danari, a quella conversazione, a quegli spassi; pensate che non
siete eterno. L'avete da lasciare un giorno, e forse presto; e perché volete
starvi attaccato, con porvi a rischio di fare
una morte inquieta? Offerite da ora tutto a Dio, pronto a privarvene, quando a
Lui piace. Se volete morir rassegnato, bisogna che da ora vi rassegniate in
tutti gli accidenti contrari, che vi possono accadere, e vi spogliate degli
affetti alle cose della terra. Mettetevi innanzi il punto della morte e
disprezzerete tutto. «Facile contemnit omnia (dice S. Geronimo) qui semper se cogitat moriturum».
Se non avete eletto ancora lo stato di vostra vita,
eleggetevi quello stato che vorreste aver eletto, quando sarete in morte, e che
vi farà fare una morte più contenta. Se poi già l'avete eletto, fate quel che
vorreste aver fatto allora nel vostro stato. Fate come ogni giorno fosse
l'ultimo di vostra vita, ed ogni azione l'ultima che fate, l'ultima orazione,
l'ultima confessione, l'ultima comunione. Immaginatevi come in ogni ora vi
trovaste moribondo, steso in un letto, e vi sentiste intimare quel
«Proficiscere de hoc mundo». Questo pensiero oh quanto vi gioverà per ben camminare
e distaccarvi dal mondo: «Beatus ille servus, quem, cum venerit Dominus eius,
inveniet sic facientem» (Matth. 24. 46). Chi aspetta la morte ad ogni ora,
ancorché morisse all'improvviso, non lascerà di
morir bene.
Affetti e preghiere
Ogni cristiano dee star preparato a dire in quel punto,
in cui gli sarà data la nuova della morte, così: Dunque mio Dio, poche ore mi
restano? voglio in queste amarvi quanto posso nella presente vita, per più
amarvi nell'altra. Poco mi resta da offerirvi, vi offerisco questi dolori e 'l
sagrificio della mia vita, in unione del sagrificio che vi fece per me
Gesu-Cristo sulla croce. Signore, le pene che patisco son poche e leggiere, a
fronte di quelle ch'io ho meritate: quali sono io le abbraccio in segno dell'amor
che vi porto. Mi rassegno a tutti i castighi, che volete darmi in questa e
nell'altra vita, purché io v'abbia ad amare in eterno. Punitemi quanto vi piace, ma
non mi private del vostro amore. Conosco che non meriterei più d'amarvi, per
avere io tante volte disprezzato il vostro amore; ma Voi non sapete discacciare
un'anima pentita. Mi pento, o sommo bene, d'avervi offeso. V'amo con tutto il
cuore, e tutto in voi confido. La vostra morte, o mio Redentore, è la speranza
mia. Nelle vostre mani impiagate raccomando l'anima mia. «In manus tuas
commendo spiritum meum; redemisti me, Domine Deus veritatis». O Gesù mio, voi avete dato il sangue per salvarmi,
non permettete ch'io m'abbia a separare da Voi. V'amo, o Dio eterno, e spero
amarvi in eterno.
Maria Madre mia, aiutatemi in quel gran punto. Ora a voi
consegno il mio spirito; dite al vostro Figlio che abbia pietà di me. A voi mi
raccomando, liberatemi dell'inferno.
Thursday, 23 March 2017
Wednesday, 22 March 2017
Quotes from C.S. Lewis (in English)
1) “If we find ourselves with a
desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is
that we were made for another world.”
2) “I didn’t go to religion to make
me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion
to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”
3) “There are no ordinary people.
You have never talked to a mere mortal.”
4) “The Christian does not think
God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He
loves us.”
5) “God can’t give us peace and
happiness apart from Himself because there is no such thing.”
6) “A man can no more diminish
God’s glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by
scribbling the word ‘darkness’ on the walls of his cell.”
7) “It would seem that Our Lord
finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures,
fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us,
like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he
cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea.”
8) “True humility is not thinking
less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”
9) “Human history is the long
terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make
him happy.”
10) “A silly idea is current that
good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only
those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is… A man who gives in to
temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like
an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about
badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in.”
11) “Die before you die, there is
no chance after.”
12) “No man knows how bad he is
till he has tried very hard to be good.”
13) “Aim at Heaven and you will
get Earth ‘thrown in’: aim at Earth and you will get neither.”
14) “Progress means getting
nearer to the place you want to be. And if you have taken a wrong turning, then
to go forward does not get you any nearer. If you are on the wrong road,
progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in
that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.”
15) “Christianity, if false, is
of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot
be is moderately important.”
16) “Everyone thinks forgiveness
is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive.”
17) “Love may forgive all
infirmities and love still in spite of them: but Love cannot cease to will
their removal.”
18) “I know now, Lord, why you
utter no answer. You are yourself the answer. Before your face questions die
away. What other answer would suffice?”
19) “God is no fonder of
intellectual slackers than He is of any other slacker.”
Tuesday, 21 March 2017
"The Book of Exodus" - Chapter XXIV (translated into English)
Chapter 24
1 Moses himself was told, "Come up to the LORD,
you and Aaron, with Nadab, Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel. You
shall all worship at some distance, 2 but Moses
alone is to come close to the LORD; the others shall not come too near, and the
people shall not come up at all with Moses."
3 When Moses came to the people and related all the
words and ordinances of the LORD, they all answered with one voice, "We
will do everything that the LORD has told us." 4
Moses then wrote down all the words of the LORD and, rising early the next day,
he erected at the foot of the mountain an altar and twelve pillars for the
twelve tribes of Israel. 5
Then, having sent certain young
men of the Israelites to offer holocausts and sacrifice young bulls as peace
offerings to the LORD, 6 Moses took half of the
blood and put it in large bowls; the other half he splashed on the altar. 7 Taking the book of the covenant, he read it aloud to
the people, who answered, "All that the LORD has said, we will heed and
do." 8 Then he took the blood and sprinkled
it on the people, saying, "This is the blood of the covenant which the
LORD has made with you in accordance with all these words of his."
9 Moses then went up with Aaron, Nadab, Abihu, and
seventy elders of Israel, 10 and they beheld the
God of Israel. Under his feet there appeared to be sapphire tilework, as clear
as the sky itself. 11 Yet he did not smite these
chosen Israelites. After gazing on God, they could still eat and drink.
12 The LORD said to Moses, "Come up to me on the
mountain and, while you are there, I will give you the stone tablets on which I
have written the commandments intended for their instruction." 13 So Moses set out with Joshua, his aide, and went up
to the mountain of God. 14 The elders, however,
had been told by him, "Wait here for us until we return to you. Aaron and
Hur are staying with you. If anyone has a complaint, let him refer the matter
to them." 15 After Moses had gone up, a
cloud covered the mountain.
16 The glory of the LORD settled upon Mount Sinai. The
cloud covered it for six days, and on the seventh day he called to Moses from
the midst of the cloud. 17 To the Israelites the
glory of the LORD was seen as a consuming fire on the mountaintop. 18 But Moses passed into the midst of the cloud as he
went up on the mountain; and there he stayed for forty days and forty nights.
Monday, 20 March 2017
Sermon by Blessed John Henry Newman (in English)
The Religion of the Pharisee, the
Religion of Mankind
"O God, be merciful to
me, a sinner." Luke xviii. 13.
10th Sunday after Pentecost, 1856. Preached in the University Church,
Dublin.
These words
set before us what may be called the characteristic mark of the Christian
Religion, as contrasted with the various forms of worship and schools of
belief, which in early or in later times have spread over the earth. They are a
confession of sin and a prayer for mercy. Not indeed that the notion of
transgression and of forgiveness was introduced by Christianity, and is unknown
beyond its pale; on the contrary, most observable it is, the symbols of guilt
and pollution, and rites of deprecation and expiation, are more or less common
to them all; but what is peculiar to our divine faith, as to Judaism before it,
is this, that confession of sin enters into the idea of its highest
saintliness, and that its pattern worshippers and the very heroes of its history
are only, and can only be, and cherish in their hearts the everlasting memory
that they are, and carry with them into heaven the rapturous avowal of their
being, redeemed, restored transgressors. Such an avowal is not simply wrung
from the lips of the neophyte, or of the lapsed; it is not the cry of the
common run of men alone, who are buffeting with the surge of temptation in the
wide world; it is the hymn of saints, it is the triumphant ode sounding from
the heavenly harps of the Blessed before the Throne, who sing to their Divine
Redeemer, "Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God in Thy blood, out
of every tribe, and tongue, and people, and nation."
And
what is to the Saints above a theme of never-ending thankfulness, is, while they
are yet on earth, the matter of their perpetual humiliation. Whatever be their
advance in the spiritual life, they never rise from their knees, they never
cease to beat their breasts, as if sin could possibly be strange to them while
they were in the flesh. Even our Lord Himself, the very Son of God in human
nature, and infinitely separate from sin, - even His Immaculate Mother,
encompassed by His grace from the first beginnings of her existence, and
without any part of the original stain, - even they, as descended from Adam,
were subjected at least to death, the direct, emphatic punishment of sin. And
much more, even the most favoured of that glorious company, whom He has washed
clean in His Blood; they never forget what they were by birth; they confess, one
and all, that they are children of Adam, and of the same nature as their
brethren, and compassed with infirmities while in the flesh, whatever may be
the grace given them and their own improvement of it. Others may look up to
them, but they ever look up to God; others may speak of their merits, but they
only speak of their defects. The young and unspotted, the aged and most mature,
he who has sinned least, he who has repented most, the fresh innocent brow, and
the hoary head, they unite in this one litany, "O God, be merciful to me,
a sinner." So it was with St. Aloysius; so, on the other hand, was it with
St. Ignatius; so was it with St. Rose, the youngest of the saints, who, as a
child, submitted her tender frame to the most amazing penances; so was it with
St. Philip Neri, one of the most aged, who, when some one praised him, cried
out, "Begone! I am a devil, and not a saint;" and when going to
communicate, would protest before his Lord, that he "was good for nothing,
but to do evil." Such utter self-prostration, I say, is the very badge and
token of the servant of Christ; - and this indeed is conveyed in His own words,
when He says, "I am not come to call the just, but sinners;" and it
is solemnly recognized and inculcated by Him, in the words which follow the
text, "Every one that exalteth himself, shall be humbled, and he that
humbleth himself, shall be exalted."
This,
you see, my Brethren, is very different from that merely general acknowledgment
of human guilt, and of the need of expiation, contained in those old and
popular religions, which have before now occupied, or still occupy, the world.
In them, guilt is an attribute of individuals, or of particular places, or of
particular acts of nations, of bodies politic or their rulers, for whom, in
consequence, purification is necessary. Or it is the purification of the
worshipper, not so much personal as ritual, before he makes his offering, and
an act of introduction to his religious service. All such practices indeed are
remnants of true religion, and tokens and witnesses of it, useful both in
themselves and in their import; but they do not rise to the explicitness and
the fulness of the Christian doctrine. "There is not any man just."
"All have sinned, and do need the glory of God." "Not by the works
of justice, which we have done, but according to His mercy." The disciples
of other worships and other philosophies thought and think, that the many
indeed are bad, but the few are good. As their thoughts passed on from the
ignorant and erring multitude to the select specimens of mankind, they left the
notion of guilt behind, and they pictured for themselves an idea of truth and
wisdom, perfect, indefectible, and self-sufficient. It was a sort of virtue
without imperfection, which took pleasure in contemplating itself, which needed
nothing, and which was, from its own internal excellence, sure of a reward.
Their descriptions, their stories of good and religious men, are often
beautiful, and admit of an instructive interpretation; but in themselves they
have this great blot, that they make no mention of sin, and that they speak as
if shame and humiliation were no properties of the virtuous. I will remind you,
my Brethren, of a very beautiful story, which you have read in a writer of
antiquity; and the more beautiful it is, the more it is fitted for my present
purpose, for the defect in it will come out the more strongly by the very
contrast, viz., the defect that, though in some sense it teaches piety,
humility it does not teach. I say, when the Psalmist would describe the happy
man, he says, "Blessed are they whose iniquities are forgiven, and whose
sins are covered; blessed is the man to whom the Lord hath not imputed
sin." Such is the blessedness of the Gospel; but what is the blessedness
of the religions of the world? A celebrated Greek sage once paid a visit to a
prosperous king of Lydia, who, after showing him all his greatness and his
glory, asked him whom he considered to have the happiest lot, of all men whom
he had known. On this, the philosopher, passing by the monarch himself, named a
countryman of his own, as fulfilling his typical idea of human perfection. The
most blessed of men, he said, was Tellus of Athens, for he lived in a
flourishing city, and was prospered in his children, and in their families; and
then at length when war ensued with a border state, he took his place in the
battle, repelled the enemy, and died gloriously, being buried at the public
expense where he fell, and receiving public honours. When the king asked who
came next to him in Solon's judgment, the sage went on to name two brothers,
conquerors at the games, who, when the oxen were not forthcoming, drew their
mother, who was priestess, to the temple, to the great admiration of the
assembled multitude; and who, on her praying for them the best of possible
rewards, after sacrificing and feasting, lay down to sleep in the temple, and
never rose again. No one can deny the beauty of these pictures; but it is for
that reason I select them; they are the pictures of men who were not supposed
to have any grave account to settle with heaven, who had easy duties, as they
thought, and who fulfilled them.
Now
perhaps you will ask me, my Brethren, whether this heathen idea of religion be
not really higher than that which I have called pre-eminently Christian; for
surely to obey in simple tranquillity and unsolicitous confidence, is the
noblest conceivable state of the creature, and the most acceptable worship he
can pay to the Creator. Doubtless it is the noblest and most acceptable
worship; such has ever been the worship of the angels; such is the worship now
of the spirits of the just made perfect; such will be the worship of the whole
company of the glorified after the general resurrection. But we are engaged in
considering the actual state of man, as found in this world; and I say,
considering what he is, any standard of duty, which does not convict him of
real and multiplied sins, and of incapacity to please God of his own strength,
is untrue; and any rule of life, which leaves him contented with himself,
without fear, without anxiety, without humiliation, is deceptive; it is the
blind leading the blind: yet such, in one shape or other, is the religion of
the whole earth, beyond the pale of the Church.
The
natural conscience of man, if cultivated from within, if enlightened by those
external aids which in varying degrees are given him in every place and time,
would teach him much of his duty to God and man, and would lead him on, by the
guidance both of Providence and grace, into the fulness of religious knowledge;
but, generally speaking, he is contented that it should tell him very little,
and he makes no efforts to gain any juster views than he has at first, of his
relations to the world around him and to his Creator. Thus he apprehends part,
and part only, of the moral law; has scarcely any idea at all of sanctity; and,
instead of tracing actions to their source, which is the motive, and judging
them thereby, he measures them for the most part by their effects and their
outward aspect. Such is the way with the multitude of men everywhere and at all
times; they do not see the Image of Almighty God before them, and ask
themselves what He wishes: if once they did this, they would begin to see how
much He requires, and they would earnestly come to Him, both to be pardoned for
what they do wrong, and for the power to do better. And, for the same reason
that they do not please Him, they succeed in pleasing themselves. For that
contracted, defective range of duties, which falls so short of God's law, is
just what they can fulfil; or rather they choose it, and keep to it, because
they can fulfil it. Hence, they become both self-satisfied and self-sufficient;
- they think they know just what they ought to do, and that they do it all; and
in consequence they are very well content with themselves, and rate their merit
very high, and have no fear at all of any future scrutiny into their conduct,
which may befall them, though their religion mainly lies in certain outward
observances, and not a great number even of them.
So
it was with the Pharisee in this day's gospel. He looked upon himself with
great complacency, for the very reason that the standard was so low, and the
range so narrow, which he assigned to his duties towards God and man. He used,
or misused, the traditions in which he had been brought up, to the purpose of
persuading himself that perfection lay in merely answering the demands of
society. He professed, indeed, to pay thanks to God, but he hardly apprehended
the existence of any direct duties on his part towards his Maker. He thought he
did all that God required, if he satisfied public opinion. To be religious, in
the Pharisee's sense, was to keep the peace towards others, to take his share
in the burdens of the poor, to abstain from gross vice, and to set a good
example. His alms and fastings were not done in penance, but because the world
asked for them; penance would have implied the consciousness of sin; whereas it
was only Publicans, and such as they, who had anything to be forgiven. And
these indeed were the outcasts of society, and despicable; but no account lay
against men of well-regulated minds such as his: men who were well-behaved,
decorous, consistent, and respectable. He thanked God he was a Pharisee, and
not a penitent.
Such
was the Jew in our Lord's day; and such the heathen was, and had been. Alas! I
do not mean to affirm that it was common for the poor heathen to observe even
any religious rule at all; but I am speaking of the few and of the better sort:
and these, I say, commonly took up with a religion like the Pharisee's, more
beautiful perhaps and more poetical, but not at all deeper or truer than his.
They did not indeed fast, or give alms, or observe the ordinances of Judaism;
they threw over their meagre observances a philosophical garb, and embellished
them with the refinements of a cultivated intellect; still their notion of
moral and religious duty was as shallow as that of the Pharisee, and the sense
of sin, the habit of self-abasement, and the desire of contrition, just as
absent from their minds as from his. They framed a code of morals which they
could without trouble obey; and then they were content with it and with
themselves. Virtue, according to Xenophon, one of the best principled and most
religious of their writers, and one who had seen a great deal of the world, and
had the opportunity of bringing together in one the highest thoughts of many
schools and countries, - virtue, according to him, consists mainly in command
of the appetites and passions, and in serving others in order that they may
serve us. He says, in the well known Fable, called the choice of Hercules, that
Vice has no real enjoyment even of those pleasures which it aims at; that it
eats before it is hungry, and drinks before it is thirsty, and slumbers before
it is wearied. It never hears, he says, that sweetest of voices, its own
praise; it never sees that greatest luxury among sights, its own good deeds. It
enfeebles the bodily frame of the young, and the intellect of the old. Virtue,
on the other hand, rewards young men with the praise of their elders, and it
rewards the aged with the reverence of youth; it supplies them pleasant
memories and present peace; it secures the favour of heaven, the love of
friends, a country's thanks, and, when death comes, an everlasting renown. In
all such descriptions, virtue is something external; it is not concerned with
motives or intentions; it is occupied in deeds which bear upon society, and
which gain the praise of men; it has little to do with conscience and the Lord
of conscience; and knows nothing of shame, humiliation, and penance. It is in
substance the Pharisee's religion, though it be more graceful and more
interesting.
Now
this age is as removed in distance, as in character, from that of the Greek
philosopher; yet who will say that the religion which it acts upon is very
different from the religion of the heathen? Of course I understand well, that
it might know, and that it will say, a great many things foreign and contrary
to heathenism. I am well aware that the theology of this age is very different
from what it was two thousand years ago. I know men profess a great deal, and
boast that they are Christians, and speak of Christianity as being a religion
of the heart; but, when we put aside words and professions, and try to discover
what their religion is, we shall find, I fear, that the great mass of men in
fact get rid of all religion that is inward; that they lay no stress on acts of
faith, hope, and charity, on simplicity of intention, purity of motive, or
mortification of the thoughts; that they confine themselves to two or three
virtues, superficially practised; that they know not the words contrition,
penance, and pardon; and that they think and argue that, after all, if a man
does his duty in the world, according to his vocation, he cannot fail to go to
heaven, however little he may do besides, nay, however much, in other matters,
he may do that is undeniably unlawful. Thus a soldier's duty is loyalty,
obedience, and valour, and he may let other matters take their chance; a
trader's duty is honesty; an artisan's duty is industry and contentment; of a
gentleman are required veracity, courteousness, and self-respect; of a public
man, high-principled ambition; of a woman, the domestic virtues; of a minister
of religion, decorum, benevolence, and some activity. Now, all these are
instances of mere Pharisaical excellence; because there is no apprehension of
Almighty God, no insight into His claims on us, no sense of the creature's
shortcomings, no self-condemnation, confession, and deprecation, nothing of
those deep and sacred feelings which ever characterize the religion of a
Christian, and more and more, not less and less, as he mounts up from mere
ordinary obedience to the perfection of a saint.
And
such, I say, is the religion of the natural man in every age and place; - often
very beautiful on the surface, but worthless in God's sight; good, as far as it
goes, but worthless and hopeless, because it does not go further, because it is
based on self-sufficiency, and results in self-satisfaction. I grant, it may be
beautiful to look at, as in the instance of the young ruler whom our Lord
looked at and loved, yet sent away sad; it may have all the delicacy, the
amiableness, the tenderness, the religious sentiment, the kindness, which is
actually seen in many a father of a family, many a mother, many a daughter, in
the length and breadth of these kingdoms, in a refined and polished age like
this; but still it is rejected by the heart-searching God, because all such
persons walk by their own light, not by the True Light of men, because self is
their supreme teacher, and because they pace round and round in the small
circle of their own thoughts and of their own judgments, careless to know what
God says to them, and fearless of being condemned by Him, if only they stand
approved in their own sight. And thus they incur the force of those terrible
words, spoken not to a Jewish Ruler, nor to a heathen philosopher, but to a fallen
Christian community, to the Christian Pharisees of Laodicea, - "Because
thou sayest I am rich, and made wealthy, and have need of nothing; and knowest
not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked; I
counsel thee to buy of Me gold fire-tried, that thou mayest be made rich, and
be clothed in white garments, that thy shame may not appear, and anoint thine
eyes with eye-salve, that thou mayest see. Such as I love, I rebuke and
chastise; be zealous, therefore, and do penance."
Yes,
my Brethren, it is the ignorance of our understanding, it is our spiritual
blindness, it is our banishment from the presence of Him who is the source and
the standard of all Truth, which is the cause of this meagre, heartless
religion of which men are commonly so proud. Had we any proper insight into
things as they are, had we any real apprehension of God as He is, of ourselves
as we are, we should never dare to serve Him without fear, or to rejoice unto
Him without trembling. And it is the removal of this veil which is spread
between our eyes and heaven, it is the pouring in upon the soul of the
illuminating grace of the New Covenant, which makes the religion of the
Christian so different from that of the various human rites and philosophies,
which are spread over the earth. The Catholic saints alone confess sin, because
the Catholic saints alone see God. That awful Creator Spirit, of whom the
Epistle of this day speaks so much, He it is who brings into religion the true
devotion, the true worship, and changes the self-satisfied Pharisee into the
broken-hearted, self-abased Publican. It is the sight of God, revealed to the
eye of faith, that makes us hideous to ourselves, from the contrast which we
find ourselves to present to that great God at whom we look. It is the vision
of Him in His infinite gloriousness, the All-holy, the All-beautiful, the
All-perfect, which makes us sink into the earth with self-contempt and
self-abhorrence. We are contented with ourselves till we contemplate Him. Why
is it, I say, that the moral code of the world is so precise and well-defined?
Why is the worship of reason so calm? Why was the religion of classic
heathenism so joyous? Why is the framework of civilized society all so graceful
and so correct? Why, on the other hand, is there so much of emotion, so much of
conflicting and alternating feeling, so much that is high, so much that is
abased, in the devotion of Christianity? It is because the Christian, and the
Christian alone, has a revelation of God; it is because he has upon his mind,
in his heart, on his conscience, the idea of one who is Self-dependent, who is
from Everlasting, who is Incommunicable. He knows that One alone is holy, and
that His own creatures are so frail in comparison of Him, that they would dwindle
and melt away in His presence, did He not uphold them by His power. He knows
that there is One whose greatness and whose blessedness are not affected, the
centre of whose stability is not moved, by the presence or the absence of the
whole creation with its innumerable beings and portions; whom nothing can
touch, nothing can increase or diminish; who was as mighty before He made the
worlds as since, and as serene and blissful since He made them as before. He
knows that there is just One Being, in whose hand lies his own happiness, his
own sanctity, his own life, and hope, and salvation. He knows that there is One
to whom he owes every thing, and against whom he can have no plea or remedy.
All things are nothing before Him; the highest beings do but worship Him the
more; the holiest beings are such, only because they have a greater portion of
Him.
Ah!
what has he to pride in now, when he looks back upon himself? Where has fled
all that comeliness which heretofore he thought embellished him? What is he but
some vile reptile, which ought to shrink aside out of the light of day? This
was the feeling of St. Peter, when he first gained a glimpse of the greatness
of his Master, and cried out, almost beside himself, "Depart from me, for
I am a sinful man, O Lord!" It was the feeling of holy Job, though he had
served God for so many years, and had been so perfected in virtue, when the
Almighty answered him from the whirlwind: "With the hearing of the ear I
have heard Thee," he said; "but now my eye seeth Thee; therefore I
reprove myself, and do penance in dust and ashes." So was it with Isaias,
when he saw the vision of the Seraphim, and said, "Woe is me... I am a man
of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people that hath unclean lips,
and I have seen with my eyes the King, the Lord of Hosts." So was it with
Daniel, when, even at the sight of an Angel, sent from God, "there
remained no strength in him, but the appearance of his countenance was changed
in him, and he fainted away, and retained no strength." This then, my
Brethren, is the reason why every son of man, whatever be his degree of
holiness, whether a returning prodigal or a matured saint, says with the
Publican, "O God, be merciful to me;" it is because created natures,
high and low, are all on a level in the sight and in comparison of the Creator,
and so all of them have one speech, and one only, whether it be the thief on
the cross, Magdalen at the feast, or St. Paul before his martyrdom: - not that
one of them may not have, what another has not, but that one and all have
nothing but what comes from Him, and are as nothing before Him, who is all in
all.
For
us, my dear Brethren, whose duties lie in this seat of learning and science,
may we never be carried away by any undue fondness for any human branch of
study, so as to be forgetful that our true wisdom, and nobility, and strength,
consist in the knowledge of Almighty God. Nature and man are our studies, but
God is higher than all. It is easy to lose Him in His works. It is easy to become
over-attached to our own pursuit, to substitute it for religion, and to make it
the fuel of pride. Our secular attainments will avail us nothing, if they be
not subordinate to religion. The knowledge of the sun, moon, and stars, of the
earth and its three kingdoms, of the classics, or of history, will never bring
us to heaven. We may "thank God," that we are not as the illiterate
and the dull; and those whom we despise, if they do but know how to ask mercy
of Him, know what is very much more to the purpose of getting to heaven, than
all our letters and all our science. Let this be the spirit in which we end our
session. Let us thank Him for all that He has done for us, for what He is doing
by us; but let nothing that we know or that we can do, keep us from a personal,
individual adoption of the great Apostle's words, "Christ Jesus came into
this world to save sinners, of whom I am the chief." Topics - World,
Worldliness
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