Five Minute Sermons, Volume II. For Low Masses on All Sundays of the Year by Priests of the Congregation of St. Paul

Part 8

Chapter 84,344 wordsPublic domain

Why, then, does not the church increase more rapidly? Why does not the world now come to us as it did in those former days of its anxiety and doubt? Prejudices it has now against us, I know; but it had its prejudices then, too. There are many slanders believed against us, but that has been so from the very beginning; our Lord warned us of this, and it is a mark of his true church to be thus belied. So this is not the real trouble; no, the trouble is that most Christians do not by the good odor of their lives induce the world to inquire into their faith, and thus overcome its prejudices. We may argue till we and everyone else are ready to drop, but we shall never be as the first disciples were--the leaven of God's kingdom--till we show by our lives that there is something more in us than the natural feelings, good or bad, which make up the lives of others. Christians who forgive and excuse their enemies, who have charity for all, who are chaste and pure in word and deed, who are humble and self-denying, those are the ones--and, thank God, such there are--who make converts; and if we want the leaven of the kingdom to spread and raise the world to Christ we must be like them.

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Sermon XXXIII.

The Blessings Of The Faith.

_I will utter things hidden from the foundation of the world._ --Matthew. xiii. 35.

These are the concluding words of to-day's Gospel, and they refer to the great truths that are made known to us through the revelation of Almighty God. For as believers in a divine revelation we know things that have been hidden from the beginning, and we have a knowledge that transcends all human knowledge. Our faith gives us light which our reason could never supply. We might spend our whole lives in the most profound study and investigation, we might dip into all the systems and master all the sciences, and we should still be ignorant of certain truths which our faith makes known to us. When we look back over the world's history and see the greatest minds of every age and country groping in the dark, seeking in vain for the knowledge which we possess, we can appreciate what a glorious privilege it is to be enlightened by the divine light of faith. For where its rays do not penetrate there can never be sufficient security in regard to the most vital truths of human origin and human destiny. We see the sad evidences of this all around us in the world to-day. Men who refuse to accept the revelation of Almighty God and the teachings of his church are in ignorance, or at least they are in doubt, about the origin and end of life. They are even in doubt as to the existence of God himself, though the universe by a thousand voices proclaims his presence and their own souls reflect his image.

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From age to age the human mind busies itself over the deep questions of philosophy and the discoveries of science. From generation to generation men seek to solve the great problems of life by the force of reason; but revelation alone can adequately disclose the "things hidden from the foundation of the world," and without its divine light and guidance mankind must ever remain liable to sink into darkness and doubt.

How widely different is the state of the mind established in the settled convictions of faith from that where there is nothing but the theories and opinions of human knowledge! In the one there is the repose of certainty, security, and peace; in the other there are many puzzles unsolved, promptings unsatisfied, disquiet, and unrest. One short lesson learned in the school of divine faith will give more light and bring more comfort to the soul than all the knowledge that can be acquired in a life-time in the schools of human learning.

Great stress is laid nowadays on secular education. And we are told that what the country needs, what the world needs, are intelligent and cultivated men and women; and certainly education is an excellent thing, and most desirable for all. But why make so much of a knowledge that concerns only the petty things of earth and the fleeting course of time, and ignore a knowledge that relates to the Infinite God in heaven and a life that is everlasting? What will it profit us on our death-bed to have learned the facts in the world's history, to have been familiar with the teachings of philosophy and the discoveries of science, to have studied the writings and mastered the thoughts of men, if we know nothing of our Creator and our relation to him and the course of our destiny; nothing of the preparation we should make beforehand and the thoughts that should animate us as we stand on the brink of eternity?

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Here is the great contrast between the knowledge that God imparts to us and all human science--the one imparts to us the truths of eternity, the other teaches us the truths of time; and the difference between them is just as great as that between time and eternity. And if, as is generally the case, we estimate the value of a thing by its importance and permanence, there is surely no term of comparison here. The little child who has learned the first page of the Catholic Catechism has already acquired a knowledge which forty centuries of human speculation have never reached, and the simplest believer in Jesus Christ and his church is possessed of a wisdom far higher, far holier, than was ever conceived of by the greatest sages of old.

Let us realize, then, that faith is the highest knowledge, that it discloses to us "things hidden from the foundation of the world," and makes us sharers in the knowledge of God himself, and therefore elevates and crowns our reason.

Sermon XXXIV.

Good Example As A Means Of Making Converts.

_The kingdom of heaven is like to leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal, until the whole was leavened._ --Matthew xiii. 33

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This may seem a very strange comparison, my brethren, if, instead of letting it in at one ear, as the saying is, and out at the other, we stop to think of it a moment. For what sort of likeness is there between that glorious kingdom of heaven, which we hope some day to enter, and a little leaven or yeast put into flour to raise it and make it into bread? Surely, we should say, none at all. What could our Lord have meant when he said that the two were alike?

But let us think a little more about the matter. Is the kingdom of heaven of which he was speaking that heaven into which all the saved are to enter? Or is there not some other meaning which we may give to the words?

There is another meaning, and it is the true one in this place and in many others in the Gospel. It is the kingdom of God or of heaven, not in heaven, but on earth, of which our Saviour is here speaking. When he says the kingdom of heaven, he means the kingdom which he came to establish, his holy Catholic Church.

But how is this leaven, or yeast? Well, it is not so very hard to see this. It is because, being put into the world in the beginning in the form of a few weak, poor, and unlearned men and women, like the little spoonful of yeast put into a great mass of flour, it soon spread through the whole known world, and is even now spreading in the same way, changing and influencing in many ways all whom it meets with, even if it does not fully convert them: just as the yeast is spread through the whole of the dough, raising it and making it into good and healthy food.

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Yes, my brethren, this was the way that the church spread through the world and made its converts, especially in the early times. It was not only by preaching. The Apostles and their successors did not have much chance to preach to the world in general. They were not allowed to do so; public preaching would have brought down on them much greater persecutions than those which they actually suffered, and it would have required great miracles on God's part to preserve his church had such preaching been tried, especially in the great cities. No, they had to teach their doctrine, as we may say, on the sly; in fact, part of it was reserved for those who had already become Christians. It may seem strange now, but in early times no one was allowed to hear anything about the real presence of our Lord in the Blessed Sacrament till after he had been baptized. This was called the discipline of the secret, and was kept up for a long time.

So, you see, Christianity was not learned in the pagan Roman Empire so much by preaching as by private instruction joined with good example. One person caught it from another, as the particles of dough get raised by those next to them. Masters and mistresses, for instance, caught it from their servants, others from their friends and acquaintances--first, from noticing their virtues, so different from those which the pagans had. They saw how gentle and affectionate, and still how courageous, they were; how they bore suffering without a murmur; how they shrank from the idols worshipped by others, and from all the vices which these idols represented; how little they cared for pleasure; how each sacrificed himself for his neighbor. "See," said the world, "how these Christians love one another." Then the world began to inquire what was the reason of this love and of the other Christian virtues; and so religion spread from the lowest to the highest, till at last the Roman emperors themselves knelt before the cross.

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Things are somewhat changed now, it is true. The Catholic faith can now be preached and taught openly; still, it is almost the same as if it could not, for people outside the church will seldom come and hear it, or even read books explaining it. The discipline of the secret still prevails, not because we wish it, but because the world does. So now, as before, the faith must catch and spread from one person to another if it is to make much progress in such countries as this of ours. Protestants run away from the priest, and will have nothing to say to him; so it will not do to say that making converts is the priest's business and does not concern you. No, my brethren, making converts is your business, as things stand, perhaps even more than his. But how are they to be made? Not by cursing, lying, and drunkenness, sins too common, alas! among many who call themselves Catholics, and specially liable to be noticed by others. It was not by these that the first Christians converted the world. Not by quarrels and slanders; it is not by these that you will convince people that we Christians love one another. Turn, then, from the vices which repel, and practise instead virtues which will attract unbelievers, and lead them to inquire why you are so good instead of wondering that you are so bad. Then they will come to you, as they did of old to your ancestors in the faith, to learn the doctrine which has taught you these virtues; and you will be, as you should be, the leaven which is to leaven the world.

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_Septuagesima Sunday_.

Epistle. 1 _Corinthians ix._ 24; x. 5.

Brethren: Know you not that they who run in the race, all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize? So run that you may obtain.

And every one that striveth for the mastery refraineth himself from all things; and they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible one. I therefore so run, not as at an uncertainty: I so fight, not as one beating the air: but I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection: lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become reprobate. For I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea. And all in Moses were baptized, in the cloud and in the sea; and they did all eat the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink (and they drank of the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ). But with the most of them God was not well pleased.

Gospel. _St. Matthew xx._ 1-16.

At that time: Jesus said to his disciples this parable: The kingdom of heaven is like to a master of a family, who went early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the laborers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour and saw others standing in the market-place idle. And he said to them: Go you also into my vineyard, and I will give you what shall be just. {123} And they went their way. And again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour, and did in like manner. But about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing, and he saith to them: Why stand you here all the day idle? They say to him: Because no man hath hired us. Ho saith to them: Go you also into my vineyard. And when evening was come, the lord of the vineyard saith to his steward: Call the laborers and pay them their hire, beginning from the last even to the first. When, therefore, they came, who had come about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first also came, they thought that they should have received more, and they also received every man a penny. And when they received it, they murmured against the master of the house, saying: These last have worked but one hour, and thou hast made them equal to us, that have borne the burden of the day and the heats. But he answering one of them, said: Friend, I do thee no wrong; didst thou not agree with me for a penny? Take what is thine and go thy way: I will also give to this last even as to thee. Or, is it not lawful for me to do what I will? is thy eye evil because I am good? So shall the last be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen.

Sermon XXXV.

Bodily Mortification.

"I chastise my body," says St. Paul in the Epistle of to-day, "and bring it into subjection." In these few words he gives us the great reason for the Catholic doctrine and practice of bodily mortification and penance, which Protestants so often find fault with.

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"I chastise my body," he says, "and bring it into subjection"; that is, "I chastise it, because I want to bring it into subjection. I want to tame it, to become its master; so I give it a good beating, I starve it now and then, and treat it badly generally, that it may learn to obey me."

That is the great idea of mortification, my brethren, in a nutshell. Every one knows that if you want to break a vicious horse you have to put him through a pretty severe course of treatment before he will be subject to your will. And every one knows that the body is naturally unruly, like a vicious horse; the body is always craving for things which it would be better that it should not have, and it will have them in spite of us if we do not take care. So, to subject it thoroughly to reason, we must put it through a severe course; otherwise, some time or other, it will get the better of us, and have its own way.

And there is a great deal more need of taming our own bodies than there is of breaking horses. For the horse can only kill our body, but our bodies can kill our souls; and furthermore, if we do not want to take the trouble of breaking a horse, we can shoot him, or get somebody else to take him; but we can not in anyway lawfully get rid of our bodies till such time as God sees fit to take them from us. We are tied fast to them, and cannot get away. So we are absolutely obliged to conquer them, if we do not want to be conquered by them. In other words, if we do not want our bodies to be a frequent cause and occasion of mortal sin to us, we must to some considerable extent practise mortification.

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That is the Catholic and true doctrine, as taught by the church, and put into practice, in some degree at least, by all the faithful who obey her laws. And it is also common sense. Every one must admit that the body is the great cause and source of mortal sin to far the greater number of people, and that if its appetites were thoroughly brought under control our souls would be saved from very great dangers, which otherwise they cannot escape. If, then, it is any object to escape these dangers--and no sensible man can deny that it is--one does not need to be a Christian, but only to have the gift of reason, and to look a little into himself and into the world about him, and he must grant that the bodily penances and mortifications which the church insists on are not foolish or superstitious, but in the highest degree prudent and wise.

But I know, my dear brethren, that you do not think that the mortification of the body required by the church is useless or superstitious; I give you too much credit for faith as well as for reason to imagine that. You do need courage, though--we all need it--to act up to what we believe in this matter. Let us then look this question fairly in the face. There is heaven before us to be gained, and sin to be overcome that we may gain it; and here are our bodies, with their depraved, corrupted, and often dangerous and sinful desires, standing in the way of our gaining it. If we will only determine in earnest to get the mastery of them, heaven is almost sure; if we do not, they will be very likely to carry us to hell. If we overcome them, we save ourselves and them, and make them a help instead of a hindrance to us; if not, they will do their best to drag us down with themselves to destruction, and if in the mercy of God we may indeed be saved it will be as by fire. Shall we not take a little trouble when such tremendous interests are at stake? Shall we trust to luck when a little effort will make heaven sure?

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Sermon XXXVI.

Sudden Death.

_Watch ye, therefore, because you know not the day nor the hour._ --Matthew. xxv. 13.

These words, my dear brethren, are taken from the parable of the ten virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom and the bride. Five of them, being wise and prudent, took oil in their lamps, that they might be ready at any moment to light them; but the five foolish ones gave no thought to the matter. At midnight, when they least expected it, the cry was heard, "Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye forth to meet him." Then the foolish virgins tried to borrow oil from the wise to fill their lamps, but were told to go and buy for themselves. While they were gone the bridegroom came; they were not ready; the door of the marriage-feast was closed when they returned, and in answer to their entreaty, "Lord, lord, open to us," came only the words, "I know you not." "Watch ye, therefore," says our Lord, in concluding this parable, "because you know not the day nor the hour."

Brethren, the meaning of this parable is so plain that it hardly needs even a word of explanation. Yet how unheeded it is, alas! by the majority of Christians!

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What does this oil mean that the foolish virgins neglected to provide for themselves and to have in their lamps? What but the grace of God, with, which our souls should be provided, and without which they are in the state of mortal sin? If this precious oil of God's grace is in our souls we are ready at any moment to meet the Bridegroom; no matter how suddenly the cry is made that he is coming, we can go forth with confidence to meet him and feel sure that the door of the marriage-feast of heaven will not be closed to us.

But if we have not this oil, if the lamp of our soul is empty, if we are in the state of mortal sin, what dismay comes on us, what terrible fear and distress of mind, when we are suddenly told to prepare for death! We have been saying all along, "Oh! there will be plenty of time," and now there is not plenty of time. God is coming to meet us, and to demand of us an account of our lives; we cannot hide from his face, and he will not wait. The hour fixed in the eternal counsels of his wisdom has come, the hour on which everything depends, the hour for which the years of our life should have been one long preparation, those years so carelessly thrown away.

Friends may stand around us who have not wasted the oil in their lamps as we have ours. Their souls may be full of the grace of God, preserved and increased continually by prayer and good works, by the love of God and frequent confession and Communion. They may have enough and to spare; but they can not lend to us. "No," they must say to us, "go rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. Go rather," that is, "to the regular sources of that grace, the sacraments, which our Lord has placed in his church, to give life to the dead. Send for the priest, and with his help fill the lamp of your soul, and prepare to meet our Lord."

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But too often it is as in the parable of the virgins. While the foolish Christian, who has put off his preparation for death, who has lived in the state of sin, expecting to die in the state of grace, goes to fill his lamp, his Lord comes, finds him, and judges him as he is. The priest comes, but only to look on him lying dead. Or even if the oil of grace is brought to the sinner, he has not, perhaps, the price to pay for it; that is, he has not those dispositions of sincere penitence and amendment of life, without which all sacraments are vain and ineffectual.

Brethren, it is a fearful point in the parable of the wise and foolish virgins that not one of the five who were so carelessly unprepared was able to have her lamp ready to meet the bridegroom in his coming. It should teach us to expect that, as a rule, a man must die as he has lived. No doubt there are exceptions; the mercy of God is over all, and wills not that the sinner should perish. But the only safe way, the only way, indeed, that is not the wildest folly, and even insanity, is to live as all good Christians do live, continually prepared for death; with the grace of God always in their souls, with no stain of mortal sin on them; with "their loins girt, and lamps burning in their hands"; and "like to men who wait for their lord when he shall return from the wedding: that when he cometh and knocketh they may open to him immediately."

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Sermon XXXVII.

Life's Purpose.

_Brethren, know you not that they that run in the race, all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize? So run, that you may obtain._ 1 Corinthians. ix. 24.

There is a great question, my dear brethren, that comes home some time or other to every man in the world who is not entirely taken up with the passing pleasures and fleeting interests of the moment; to every man, that is, who lives as a man, and not as a mere child. It is the most important and vital of all questions; and it will return often on us, put it away as much as we will. It is this: "What am I here for? what is the use, what is the purpose of all this life which I am living? What is the goal to which it is tending? what end do I hope to obtain?"

Yes, we must look forward in this way sometimes, and we must try to find something in the future better worth having than what we have now, or our life, with its labors and fatigues, becomes a burden almost too great to be borne.

So one man proposes wealth, another knowledge and learning, another fame and honor as his object in life; or at least he looks forward to bringing up children to whom he can leave his memory and his name, and who will carry on and complete the work he has begun.