Part 3

_He came unto His own_--that is, He comes as far as He can--from heaven to the Host, and down to the altar rails. Further He cannot come. The rest of the way must be ours. We must meet Him there in Holy Communion, or His loving journey to us will have been in vain. He will not force our free will. But He does so want to come. Shall we disappoint Him? Oh, if our own love will not draw us to Him, at least let us have compassion on His! If we think ourselves at liberty to deprive ourselves of our communions, surely we are not free to deprive Him of His.

You long, O Lover of my soul, to come to me. Your delights are to be with me, cold, inhospitable as I am. Come, then; come, Lord Jesus, and in satisfying Your own desire, enkindle mine.

[43] Job vi.

[44] John xvi.

XI.

FAITH.

Sola fides sufficit!

What mainly hinders the freedom and happiness of our intercourse with Christ our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament is the account we make _of feelings_. In spite of all that can be said to us, we persist in applying this untrustworthy test to our relations with God, the result being discouragement and all its evil consequences.

Feelings are wayward children, all the more refractory often for blandishments and coaxing. Our wisest plan is not to notice them overmuch; to be glad certainly when they show themselves friendly, and when they are unpropitious to let them alone.

Feelings we may dispense with, but faith never. Faith we must follow, lean upon, cling to, with all the more tenacity as the days draw on of which our Lord said: “The Son of man when He cometh, shall He find, think you, faith on earth?”[45] With the vehemence that will take no refusal we must constrain her, saying: “Stay with us, because it is towards evening”.[46] Where faith enters and takes full possession, all good things enter with her. We need not go about to seek anxiously for anything else: _Sola fides sufficit!_

* * * * *

Give me, my God, a deep and lively faith in all Your Holy Spirit has revealed and Your Church teaches. Give me this one thing necessary, and it is enough for me. _Sola fides sufficit!_ The faith I ask is a living faith that must needs prove its vitality by good works. Give me the faith that lit up the lives of Your saints. Strengthen my hold on all revealed truth. But give me above all an intense, ever-growing realisation of the mystery of the altar, the central Mystery of our faith.

Realised by me as it was by Your saints, what a change that Presence would make in my life! Mind, heart, imagination, will, views, aims, desires directed to it, absorbed by it--O Jesus, what a transformation this would be! _Sola fides sufficit!_ Lord, increase my faith!

Thou Who of old didst love Thy hand to lay On the dull, vacant eyes that craved for light, Behold, I come to Thee, and crying, pray: O Christ, O Son of David, give me sight! A faith scarce clouded by the mists of earth, A faith that pierceth heaven I ask of Thee, Faith to prize all things by their lasting worth: Thou canst, Thou wilt--O Lord, that I may see!

If we would think more about arousing our faith than exciting our feelings, would not our visits and our communions be the gainers? And would not the affections of the heart often follow the lead of faith? A few minutes spent in trying to bring home to ourselves that He Who is really present a few yards from where we sit or kneel is the world’s long-promised Messiah, Whose advent kings and prophets desired to see; Whom in His own time all men desired to see and hear; He at Whose feet Mary sat at Bethany, unmindful of all but that Face and that Voice; He Whose words--“Peace be still,” “Thy brother shall rise again,” “Go, and now sin no more”--brought hope and joy to the troubled heart; He Who fell on His Face under the olive trees, crushed to the earth by my sins; Who died with the thought and the love of me in His Heart that Good Friday long ago; Who is to come again in the eastern sky where every eye shall see Him--a few minutes of earnest dwelling on thoughts such as these will rouse in our souls faith and hope and charity, will kindle humility, sorrow, gratitude, desire--for fuel is furnished for the fire.

“Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief.” I believe that beneath Your humble veils You are here truly present, O hidden God! I believe the day draws near when You will be the hidden God no more; when I shall see You coming in the clouds of heaven with great power and majesty, all nature trembling at Your approach; whilst the elect lift up their heads because their redemption is at hand.

O Judge of the living and the dead, in that awful day remember me! Remember me when You come to gather Your own into Your kingdom! Remember, I beseech You, in that second coming, how often I have welcomed You at Your hidden coming, and let my heart welcome and leap up to meet You then.

Jesu, quem velatum nunc aspicio, Oro, fiat illud, quod tam sitio, Ut, Te revelata cernens facie, Visu sim beatus Tuae gloriae.

O Jesu, Whom by faith I now descry Shrouded from mortal eye; When wilt Thou slake the thirsting of my heart To see Thee as Thou art, Face unto face in all Thy glad array, ’Tranced with the glory of that everlasting day.

--G. T.

[45] Luke xviii.

[46] _Ibid._ xxiv.

XII.

AFTER A DEFEAT.

Let not this thing discourage thee, for various is the event of war.--2 _Kings_ xi. 25.

The cheery words You have for me, O Lord and Leader, when downcast and troubled I come to tell You of another reverse to our arms! Truly Your ways are not our ways. With us results are everything. A general may do his best, take every precaution, be skilful in preparation, and brave in action. Yet repeated mishaps will beget mistrust, and he will find himself superseded in command. It must be so. But it is not Your way with us.

I have not done my best. I have been careless in preparation, and weak and cowardly in action. Yet You have nothing but encouragement for me after a rout. No reproach, no withdrawal of confidence: “Fight like a good soldier; and if sometimes thou fall through frailty, rise up again with greater strength than before, confiding in My more abundant grace”.[47] At my first call for help reinforcements are sent to the front, not _less_, by reason of my unfaithfulness, but _more_, because of my need. And if I am superseded in command, it is only by Your coming Yourself on to the field, and so strengthening my hands, that all must give way before us.

I am sorry, O my Chief, for the dishonour to Your name and the loss to Your cause through my fault. But I do not despond. I may fail in everything else, but in trust I will never fail. If I am overthrown seventy-seven times in the day, I will return to the charge as often, my resolution the same, my confidence the same as at first. These perpetual beginnings are painful, weary work, but Your patience, Lord, will never fail: neither shall my goodwill. I know that the struggle itself brings You glory. I know that if I keep up the struggle to the end, You will meet me when the time of trial is over with the welcome word: “_Well done!_”

Fearful of self, with sore temptation pressing, I hasten, God of armies, unto Thee, My every power, my every sense confessing Its insufficiency. Taught by the past there is no help in me, I cast myself on Thee.

This is not hard. But false in face of Heaven, To turn with trusting heart again to Thee, Not once, not twice, but seventy times seven, In brave humility: When smarting self would hide its misery, To cast myself on Thee--

Lord, _this is hard_. Thine eye alone can measure The weary pain of each relapse to me: Yet fraught with grace, all stored with hidden treasure, Is my infirmity; Strongest of pleas, the creature’s frailty, That casts it upon Thee.

[47] Imit. of Christ, iii. 6.

XIII.

AFTER A VICTORY.

Thanks be to God, Who hath given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.--1 _Cor._ xv. 57.

So often, dear Lord, so very often I come to You with my defeats, that it is a refreshment to have something more cheering to offer to Your Sacred Heart.

* * * * *

_Thanks be to God_--It was Your grace, my God, throughout--before, accompanying, crowning--my share just the co-operation that did not reject the help You gave.

_Who hath given us_--given _me_, so weak, so cowardly, so little to be depended on in moments of trouble and conflict; _me_, such a disgrace to the colours often, such a sorry soldier at best--

_The victory_--nothing much for anyone else, but something of a triumph, dear Lord, for me. Our small successes are not accounted small by You, O generous Leader. You welcome all, are proud of all, lay up reward and praise for all against the day of reward.

_Through our Lord Jesus Christ_, by Whom, with Whom, in Whom we overcome. We can do all things in Him Who strengthens us. _Jesu, Tibi sit gloria!_ Thanks be to God, Who has given us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

XIV.

A DIVINE FRIEND.

The woman ... came and fell down before Him, and told Him all the truth.--_Mark_ v. 33.

_The whole truth._ Only to one Friend can we tell that. Only one friendship could bear the strain of that revelation. The very exigencies of other friendships call for restraint. Can we own to want of confidence, to utter coldness and callousness, to a want of sympathy in joys and sorrows that move to its depths the heart of our friend? Could the most self-forgetting of human friendships bear up against avowals such as these?

No; we must draw the line here unless we want the free flowing waters gradually to freeze into a glacier. Owning to mistrust will hardly be accepted as a mark of trust, nor will the acknowledgment of coldness beget love. Poor affection of these human hearts of ours!--jealous and suspicious at the least show of reticence, yet unable to bear the disclosures of unreserve. We cannot be hard upon a weakness common to us all, but we long for a heart human like our own, yet strong enough to support the weight of all we would put upon it. Nor are we disappointed. Here in the tabernacle is what we seek. Here is a Heart waiting for all, ready for all. Here we may unbosom ourselves completely. Here we may tell _the whole truth_. Narrowness and fickleness, heartlessness, mistrust, selfishness--ingratitude even, we may tell. We may trust all to this Beloved without fear. For He knows what is in man. No revelation will surprise Him, no misery disgust Him. He will welcome each painful avowal with the tenderest sympathy, and take all we tell Him as tokens of trust for which He is infinitely obliged to us.

XV.

AN EVENING VISIT.

Stay with us, because it is towards evening.--_Luke_ xxiv. 29.

It is at night especially that the shepherd looks well to his sheep. Good Shepherd, I gather round You to-night the sheep of Your world-wide flock and commit them to Your keeping. Wherever they are to be found, there are You in the midst of them. In crowded cities--the guardian of the multitudes sleeping around You on every side. In the one spot of the quiet village where a light will burn to-night--the Keeper of the simple souls around You there. In many a hut the wide world over--content among savage tribes to share the poor shelter of Your priest. Everywhere warding off the prowling wolf and the evil that walketh in the dark.[48] With us not only all days, but all nights unto the end of time.

_Stay with us_, Lord, to-night. Stay to adore, and praise, and give thanks for us whilst we sleep; to draw down mercy and grace upon the world; to succour from earth’s tabernacles the holy suffering souls in purgatory in their long night of weary pain.

_Stay with us_, to ward off the anger of God from our crowded cities with their dens of vice, their crimes that call to Heaven for vengeance.

_Stay with us_, to guard the innocent, to sustain the tempted, to raise the fallen, to curb the power of the evil one, to prevent sin.

_Stay with us_, to comfort the sorrowing, to bless the death-beds, to grant contrition to the dying, to receive into the arms of Your mercy the thousands that this night must come before You for judgment. O Good Shepherd, stay with Your sheep! Secure them against the perils that beset them. Stay, above all, with the suffering and the dying. “Grant us a quiet night and a perfect end.” Be our merciful Shepherd to the last, that without fear we may appear before You as our Judge.

_Stay with us, Lord, to-night._ More favoured than the camp of Israel slumbering under the guardianship of the pillar of fire, we sleep with the Presence of God Incarnate shielding us on every side. Well may we say: “In peace, in the self same, I will sleep and I will rest”.

* * * * *

“Vouchsafe, O Lord, this night to keep us without sin.”

I map out the whole world into districts, and place each under the jurisdiction of the nearest tabernacle. From that centre let the radiance of the Divine protection go forth to every soul within its circuit, enlightening, guarding--above all, strengthening against sin. O Lord, from every tabernacle send forth to-night a strong efficacious grace, to stop not one but a thousand sins. Because we have made the Most High our refuge,[49] let no evil come near to hurt us. “Save us, O Lord, waking, and keep us while we sleep, that we may watch with Christ and rest in peace.”

[48] Psa. xc.

[49] Psa. xc.

XVI.

PRIVILEGED.

My lots are in Thy hands.--_Psa._ xxx. 15.

Suppose, my God, You had told us that as we know the worth of our soul, You were going to trust us with the choice of the means by which its salvation is to be worked out; You were going to put before us riches and poverty, sickness and health, success and failure, a long life and a short one, and we might take which seemed best for us. Should we be content? Should we not say, if we were wise: “My God, do not trust this to me. I shall choose, I know I shall, what I like, not what is best for me.”

And suppose You were to tell us there were souls to whom You would not entrust such a decision. Either they were too weak, or You were so anxious to save them that You had left the choice of means, not to themselves, but to those who love them better than they love themselves, and who would choose for them more wisely--to their guardian angel, to their patron saint, even to the Seat of Wisdom herself--and if we wished You would let us be one of those favoured souls. Should we be content then? Or should we say: “My God, forgive me for being mistrustful still. I know my guardian angel and my holy patrons, and most of all my Mother Mary, love me dearly and would do their best for me.” But their wisdom after all is not infinite. They might make a mistake, and that mistake might mean the loss of _everything_ to me. I cannot afford any risk here. My soul is my only one; I must save it whatever happens. I dare not keep it in my own hands, and I dare not trust it even to the highest and holiest and wisest of those around Your throne.

And suppose once again You were to say to us: “There are a few, a very few, whose salvation is so dear to Me that I will trust the choice of means to no one. I will plan and arrange all Myself. Nothing shall happen to them but what has been foreseen and prepared from all eternity by My Infinite Wisdom and Goodness. No one shall touch them; no joy nor sorrow shall come in their way--no, nor a hair of their head fall to the ground without My knowledge and permission.” Should we not cry out: “My God--I hardly dare to ask it; but, oh, that I might be one of that happy chosen few, for surely they are safe!”

You check me by a warning: “These souls will not have all their own way in life. Their road will sometimes be hard and rugged. They will see things prosper in the hands of others and fail in theirs. They will be hardly used by those around them--misjudged, set aside, unjustly treated; life to many of them will be uphill work.” Do I draw back now, or do I cry out again: “No matter that, oh, no matter that at all! What will they care when they know Your arm is round them as they go uphill; Your hand sends the cross and the failure and the pain! No, my God, that does not frighten me. Let me only be one of those whose lot is altogether in Your hands, and I will fear nothing; I will complain of nothing; nay, I will be grateful for all that comes to me. I will kiss Your hand even when You strike me. I shall feel peaceful and happy always in the thought that it is the wisdom of my God that orders all for me, and the love of my heavenly Father that provides everything to help me. Let me be one of those chosen ones, and You will see how I value my privilege, how I prize whatever You send.”

* * * * *

_Suppose_--I have been saying. But this is no supposition. I am that privileged one whose life in its minutest details is Your ordering and Your care. How can I complain, my God! How can I be mistrustful or even anxious--“My lots are in Thy hands”.

XVII.

THE IMPROVIDENCE OF LOVE.

My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways My ways, saith the Lord.--_Isa._ lv. 8.

How often I kneel here before the tabernacle and make my genuflection and my act of faith without realising in the very least what I believe, what I adore. How little I heed that where I stand is holy ground. That a few paces from me lies the most mysterious of all mysteries, “the mystery of faith,” the mystery of love--love that with infinite wisdom and infinite power at its service has here reached its limits, has found bounds which God Himself cannot overpass.

And yet _is_ the Eucharist after all the greatest of mysteries? Has it not its source in a deeper mystery still? Is anything wonderful after the Incarnation? Does not the marvel of God made Man outstrip all other marvels? If the Creator out of love for man must needs annihilate Himself so far as to assume a created nature, where will such love stop? Into what further extravagances of love will it not be betrayed?

But how was it, my God, that Your infinite wisdom did not fear the consequences of such prodigality; did not remember who those are with whom You have to deal; did not consider that too great lavishness blunts the edge of our appreciation and our gratitude? Had You taken counsel of us, O loving Lord, we should have bid You in the very interests of love not to overdo its manifestation, not to make Yourself too easy of access, lest familiarity should endanger reverence. Daily Communion; the easy, easy conditions on which You come to us; the tarrying day and night in every church throughout the world--this we should have said would bring about a contempt of these sacred mysteries and deprive You of the love which is the end of their institution. You would have had to own to the justice of our remonstrance, to acknowledge that such fears were well grounded. It was not safe to ask counsel--except of Your own Heart. “Who hath known the mind of the Lord? and who hath been His counsellor?”[50] Only His Heart. O Sacred Heart, how sadly You have laid Him open to every sort of indignity--to indifference, coldness, outrage, sacrilege. Yet, in spite of all, this Gift of God is without repentance,[51] “for My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways My ways, saith the Lord”.

[50] Isa. xl.

[51] Rom. xi.

XVIII.

CHANGES.

Behold, I make all things new!--_Apoc._ xxi. 5.

How easily changes come about under Your hand, O Lord! Noiselessly, almost unnoticed, every hour of the day and night, all the world over, the most stupendous change is taking place--the change of the lowly substance of bread into Your Sacred Body, of wine into Your Precious Blood.

So is it in the world of souls. The most marvellous transformations cost You but a word. _Follow Me!_ And instantly apostle after apostle leaves all and follows You--mind, heart, views, ambitions, the whole aspect of life changed. _Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?_ And he who had “beyond measure persecuted the Church of God”[52] rises to his feet ready to carry the name of Jesus “before the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Israel”.[53]

With a word You can change _me_. The apathy for spiritual things would go--the dulness of sight, the slowness of heart, the low aims, the weak desires, the feebleness in the conflict with self, the niggardliness in Your service--all these would go. You could draw me within Your attraction; You could make me follow You, not simply through duty or interest, but with the quick step of one to whom Your service is the absorbing interest of life. You could make Yourself so much the need of my soul that it would turn to You as the flowers to the sun for warmth and colour, for growth, for beauty, for its very life. With a word You could work a change such as this. And what is there to hinder it? You are there in the tabernacle, O Sun of Justice, near enough to warm me through and through with Your heat; and oh, how often, did I only desire it, You would come still nearer, entering my very heart to make it live by You!

Say the word that You desire to say more than I to hear. Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth. Say the transforming word each morning over my heart when You stand at the altar and say it over the bread and wine. Say the word that will change the lowliest, the vilest thing of earth _into Yourself_. See my heart, see the hearts of all I love upon the paten, awaiting there Your creative word. Change them from what they are to what You would have them be.

[52] Gal. i.

[53] Acts ix.

XIX.

I HAVE SOMEWHAT TO SAY TO THEE.

--_Luke_ vii. 40.

A word to me? a word for me apart No other ear to hearken--heart to heart? A word Thy hidden pleasure to impart? O Master, say it!

Is it a word of love, entreating mine-- Poor recompense indeed for love divine, Yet precious to that human Heart of Thine? Dear Master, say it!

A word of blame? Lord, I deserve it--nay, No word of Thine can I deserve--yet may I know what chiding love would have Thee say? O Master, say it!

A word to cast aside my craven fears, And bravely bear the cross these many years Dragged after Thee with protest and with tears? O Master, say it!

Perchance a dreaded word, not once or twice, But often suing for a gift of price; Can I invite that call to sacrifice? Yes, Master, say it!

A word from Thee the rightful course will trace, A word from Thee the shrinking spirit brace, A word from Thee bestow all needful grace, O Master, say it!

No word of Thine but gives before it takes, And taking, generous compensation makes, And effort asking, energy awakes, O Master, say it!

A warning maybe--frighted love’s disguise, How stern soe’er in seeming, kindly wise, Unveiling danger to unwary eyes? O Master, say it!

Thy voice is ever music to mine ear, Silence alone o’erwhelms my soul with fear Say all, say freely what I crave to hear, O Master, say it!

One tender word to Thomas brought belief, One pitying word, a kingdom to a thief, One only word would bring my soul relief, O Master, say it!

New shape would aims, desires, affections take, New power of sacrifice within me wake, New need of toil and suffering for Thy sake, O Master, say it!

One word, I know, Thou hast for me--a word In the still hours of prayer how often heard, Not long, perchance, its welcome sound deferred, O Master, say it!

Word life’s incessant prayer must wrest from Thee; Word holding my eternal destiny, Word I must hear or perish utterly, O Master, say it!