Part 1

Produced by Don Kostuch

[Transcriber's notes: This production is based on https://archive.org/details/sermonsofstpaul06unknuoft/page/n6

Many footnotes have additional citations indicated by "USCCB", based on the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops Bible found at http://usccb.org/bible/books-of-the-bible. Most differences appear to be typographical errors not detected in proofreading or minor changes in verse numbering. Quotes from the book of Sirach were attributed to Ecclesiasticus.

Double underscores are used to indicate text that is both bolded and italicized, e.g. __bolded italics__.

End of Transcriber's notes.]

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Sermons By The Fathers Of The Congregation Of St. Paul The Apostle,

__New York__

Volume VI.

New York: The Catholic Publication House,

9 Warren Street.

Boston: Patrick Donahoe. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co.

1871.

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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by

Rev. I. T. Hecker, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

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Preface.

The publication of another volume of Sermons by the Fathers of the Congregation of St. Paul the Apostle, is due to the encouragement already given by the extensive sale of the former ones; and to the frequent solicitations for the continuance of their publication kindly made by many of the Reverend Clergy, at home and abroad.

St. Paul's, Fifty-ninth Street, New York, __Feast of St. John of the Cross,__ 1871.

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Contents.

Sermon I.

Remembrance Of Mercies.

__Isaiah__ lxiii. 7.

"__I will remember the tender mercies of the Lord, the praise of the Lord for all the things that the Lord hath bestowed upon us__."

Page 15

Sermon II.

The Three Gifts Of The Magi.

__St. Matt.__ ii. 11.

"__And going into the house, they found the child with Mary His mother: and falling down, they adored Him: and opening their treasures, they offered to Him gifts; gold, frankincense, and myrrh__."

Page 32

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Sermon III.

How To Pass A Good Lent.

2 __Cor__. vi. 2.

"__Behold, now is the acceptable time; behold, now is the day of salvation__,"

Page 42

Sermon IV.

Pretended And Real Christians.

2 __Cor__. vi. 1.

"__And we do exhort you that you receive not the grace of God in vain__,"

Page 56

Sermon V.

The Sins And Miseries Of The Dram-seller.

__Habacuc__ ii. 15.

"__Woe to him that giveth drink to his friend, and presenteth his gall, and maketh him drunk__."

Page 69

Sermon VI.

Communion With Jesus.

__St. John__ vi. 57. [USCCB: John vi. 56.]

"__He that eateth My flesh and drinketh My blood abideth in Me, and I in him__."

Page 89

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Sermon VII.

The Holy Ghost, The Comforter.

__St. John__ XIV. 16.

"__I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever__."

Page 104

Sermon VIII.

The Duty Of Upholding The Pope's Temporal Sovereignty.

__Zach__. vi. 13.

"__He shall bear the glory, and shall sit and rule upon his throne; and he shall be a Priest upon his throne__,"

Page 122

Sermon IX.

The Living God.

__Jer__. x. 10.

"__The Lord is the true God: He is the living God__."

Page 141

Sermon X.

The Real Presence.

__St. Matt__. i. 23.

"__They shall call His name Emmanuel, which, being interpreted, is God with us__."

Page 155

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Sermon XI.

St. Paul, The Divine Orator.

2 __Cor__. xii. 9.

"__Gladly, therefore, will I glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may dwell in me__."

Page 169

Sermon XII.

The Value Of Faith.

I __Cor__. xvi. 13.

"__Watch ye; stand fast in the faith; do manfully, and be strengthened__."

Page 183

Sermon XIII

The Supremacy Of St. Peter.

__St. Matt__. xvi. 18.

"__And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this Rock I will build My Church__."

Page 195

Sermon XIV.

The Roman Pontiffs The Successors Of St. Peter.

__St. Matt.__ xvi. 18.

"__And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this Rock I will build My Church__,"

Page 214

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Sermon XV

The Thought Of Heaven.

__Heb__. iv. 9.

"__There remaineth therefore a rest for the people of God__."

Page 230

Sermon XVI.

The Clergy The Teachers Of The People.

__St. Matt.__ vii. 15.

"__Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves__."

Page 244

Sermon XVII.

Humility In Prayer.

__St. Luke__ xviii. 13.

"__O God, be merciful to me, a sinner__,"

Page 255

Sermon XVIII.

Preparation For A Good Death.

__Isaiah__ xxxviii. 1.

"__Put thy house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live__."

Page 269

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Sermon XIX.

The King's Marriage Feast.

__St. Matt__. xxii. 14.

"__For many are called, but few are chosen__."

Page 283

Sermon XX.

Good Use Of Sickness.

__Ecclesiasticus__ xxxviii. 9. [USCCB: Sirach xxxviii. 9.]

"My son, in thy sickness neglect not thy self, but pray to the Lord, and He shall heal thee."

Page 292

Sermon XXI.

Thoughts For Advent.

__Philippians__ iv. 8.

"__For the rest, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are modest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are holy, whatsoever things are amiable, whatsoever things are of good repute; if there be any virtue, if there be any praise of discipline, think on these things__."

Page 306

Sermon XXII.

Fraternal Charity.

I __Epistle St. John__ ii. 10.

"__He that loveth his brother abideth in the light, and there is no scandal in him.__"

Page 322

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Sermon I.

Remembrance Of Mercies.

(For New Year's Day.)

Isaiah lxiii. 7.

"I will remember the tender mercies of the Lord, the praise of the Lord for all the things that the Lord hath bestowed upon us."

In the midst of our mutual congratulations at a time like this, whilst we are wishing a happy future year to those we love, we cannot wholly forget the year that is past, and all that it brought to us for good or evil. I would not, my dear brethren, cast a shadow upon the bright pathway of our hopes; I would not dampen in the least the ardor with which we joyfully set out upon another year's journey of life. May it be as happy in its realization as we could wish it to be! But I fear for the future happiness of him who forgets the happiness of the past. The anticipated joy of life yet to be lived is linked with those other joys that are past--joys over blessings whose richest fruit should be the lessons of experience they have taught us. {16} Would we like to enter upon a new year wholly ignorant of the past one? I think not. We have learned many things while it has been passing--lessons of wisdom upon which we rely to make the future better and happier. Much there may have been to regret. Alas! how much for some of us; but the remembrance of even that shall be good for us. There are many of the same stones lying in the roadway ahead of us that we stumbled upon last year. Now we shall not come upon them unawares. There are many of the same beautiful but poisonous flowers growing in the valleys of repose where we shall stop to linger for a while, as we did in days gone by. We shall recognize them, and the beauty that deceived us before shall not deceive us again.

Blessed is the man who remembers. But there is so much good to remember! And in that remembrance so much to make the heart thoughtful, cheerful, and hopeful. It is this thought which I wish you, my brethren, this morning to reflect upon: the duty and pleasure of remembering the mercies of God--His __tender__ mercies, as the prophet so aptly calls them.

It has always been a wonder to me how soon we forget benefits conferred upon us. It is too true. The joy we had when the gifts were new wasted itself away as quickly as music melts upon the air. {17} The keen sense of grateful love toward the giver grows dull, and passes into indifference, before the treasure is spent or the beauty of the gem is tarnished. Drink to the health of your friend and praise his bounty, if you will, but have a care-- ingratitude and forgetfulness are the last drops which lie at the bottom of the cup. And we treat God no better, if as well as we treat men. His gifts are such as man could never give, and given with a depth of love as unfathomable as the mystery of His own being and divine life. And yet we can forget! Oh! why is it? Did He who made the human heart make it ungrateful? Did He who so loves us make those He loves selfish? Did He who has said, "Son, give me thy heart," ask for a corrupt and treacherous heart? Such a thought may become that gloomy religion which thinks to exalt God by debasing His creatures; but it is not so that we have learned Him. No, this cannot be. It cannot be that the heart of man is naturally ungrateful, or is unmindful of good for which it is debtor; that by virtue of its very nature it is selfish toward man, and treacherous to God. He who made us has not made us to be of necessity the very opposite of what He wishes us to be. What explains this cold forgetfulness, this heartless indifference, that steals over us so soon? There is but one explanation. Love and gratitude must have a test. {18} The words of thankfulness, the pressure of the hand, the look of the eyes and the aspirations of the heart which are forced from us in the first flush of happiness when the gifts are showered at our feet, are all good and just testimonies--but they are not enough. Gratitude and love must have the true test of merit, and that is endurance. There must be freedom to forget, that the false be distinguished from the true. That we claim this enduring memory at the hands of others, and are disappointed if it is otherwise, is a proof not only that such a test is naturally called for, but that we at the same time deem it possible. How many gifts pass from hand to hand during this season of rejoicing, with the words--Remember me! God Himself bestows His most Precious Gift to man with the same request, "Do this in remembrance of Me." Yes, now we understand it. The true heart will remember; the false one will forget. The faithful soul delights in cherishing a lively remembrance of benefits received; and the further back in the past the moment lies that saw our brows crowned with the tokens of love, the sweeter and more tender become the memories of them. Judge by this test, my brethren, if you have a true heart to God. Oh! the deep meaning of the prophet's words, "I will remember the __tender__ mercies of the Lord." Time is a refiner of the thoughts. {19} The love of the gift itself, the mere sensual complacency in its enjoyment is mixed up in the beginning with the thankfulness we feel for its bestowal. But time will wear off that dross, and only the pure gold of the heart's gratitude will be left. It is not the love of the gift that need last. We do not care for that, neither does God. But we and God want the love of the giver to remain, and the giving of our gift, that act by which we tried to prove our love, not to be forgotten.

Look back, my brethren, look back. What does your memory tell you of His gifts whose mercy has followed you all the days of your life, whose hands have been stretched forth full of new blessings every morning? Here it might become me to enumerate some of these gifts, but where would I begin, or where could I end? Besides, it is you who ought to remember, and remember well. You must have a cold heart if you can forget.

You see, my brethren, what I desire by these words. I wish you to know whether you are grateful to God or not, to that God who has so loved us and crowned us with mercy and loving kindness. At a time like this, when you are asking others to remember you, and when you are thinking of all the dear old friends you have had in bygone years, and of the sweet mementos that came from their hands or were spoken by their lips, I would compel you to see if you have remembered the oldest, the best Friend of all. {20} Alas! if you must say--He has been the last and the least in my thoughts. That would be sad to hear, and, above all, from the lips of those who, by their very faith, with all its blessed consolations, live so near to God.

If there be any by whom God wishes to be remembered, and His mercies brought to mind, it is by us who are His chosen people. I know God loves all men, and more than we can imagine; but there can be little doubt that those whom He has so honored as to make them the brethren of His Only Son, Jesus Christ, upon whom He has bestowed the inestimable gift of the Catholic faith, are the objects of His special affection.

Oh! it is a great thing to be one of the household of faith! That is one of those tender mercies the very thought of which should make our heart bound in our bosom. Sweet and ever present, dear Catholic brethren, should be the memory of the day of your baptism, the day when you crossed the threshold of God's own home, the Church, and there became His child. You know well what light has beamed upon your pathway in life ever since. You know what fountains of refreshment have sprung up to satisfy your thirsty soul. When you contrast your own knowledge of religion, and peace in it, with the ignorance and restless distrust of the blinded world without, then you know how truly wise God has made you.

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It is true for all who own the Catholic name, but what a __tender__ mercy is that to be ever cherished in the heart of a convert!

O day of joy to remember!--proud, loving, humble joy like that which stirred the heart of Mary when the words broke forth in tumultuous rapture from her sacred lips, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God, my Saviour. For He that is mighty hath done great things unto me, and holy is His name." O day of peace to remember!--peace like that which fills the soul of the wanderer upon whose longing sight breaks the vision of his native shore, when, with hands outstretched, as if to embrace the dear land, and in a voice choked with emotion, he murmurs--Home at last! O day of freedom to remember! Freed is the caged bird that beat its wings against bars more cruel than iron--freedom that says to the soul, Fly, for between thee and God no hand shall be found to stop thee. Cleave the skies with thy wings, and go sing at the gates of Paradise, and thou shalt hear the voices of angels responding to thy notes of happiness from within. And who has done all this? O kind God! it is Thou. It is Thou who hast regarded the humility of Thy servant. Let all generations call me too blessed from henceforth; for Thou, even Thou, hast also blessed me. Te Deum Laudamus!

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But it behooves us to ask ourselves the questions--What it is to remember God's mercies, and who are they that do it.

He who does not prize the Christmas or the New Year's gift (however humble may be the offering) for the sake of the giver, has already forgotten it. Here is something that God has too good reason to complain of us. We do not make much of His gifts, as we ought. We receive them, perhaps after many prayers. Prosperity smiles upon us, temptations lose their power, our sins are forgiven, the impending calamity is averted, death departs from our doors, our wishes are granted a thousand times beyond our expectations, and now that the blessing has come, does it look much in our eyes? Does it seem to us, as it is, a great thing--a precious gift? We are proud to display the gifts of friends. Oh! who is proud of the gifts of God? We plume ourselves upon our success, and glorify creatures for their aid, but too often God complains of us, as He complained of His ungrateful people of old, "They were filled, and were made full; and they lifted up their heart, and have forgotten me." [Footnote 1]

[Footnote 1: Osec xiii. 6.] [USCCB: Hosea xiii. 6.]

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But He has not to complain of all. There are some who recognize the source of their blessings, who wonder, in their humble, grateful hearts, that One so high could stoop to one so low. "My friends tell me," said a recent convert, "that I never looked so bright and happy in my life. They think it is on account of a piece of good news I have heard; but it is not that. I am all the time thinking how good our dear Lord has been to me. After so many years, to be permitted to come to Him, seems almost too great happiness for __me__." There is a soul remembering the tender mercies of the Lord. "Too great happiness for __me__." Such ought to be the expression of all our hearts at the thought of the very least of God's gracious gifts. A bunch of withered flowers stood upon a table near the foot of the bed of a poor, dying woman. The flowers were many days faded and scentless, yet every morning fresh water was brought to fill the old cracked china vase (the best in the cottage) that held them. "I love to have them there," she would say, "where I can see them, for they were brought to me by __him__, and they shall be laid upon my breast when I am gone to God." "By __him!__" No need to tell the name. It was like the supplication of Mary Magdalen, "If thou hast taken Him away, tell me where thou hast laid Him, and I will go and take Him away." {24} He who brought those flowers in his hand brought her also the holy sacraments of the dying, and was often at her bedside during her long illness. She loved him with that tender, holy, and trusting love which so enchains the hearts of the Catholic poor to their "dear priest." And the gift had come from him. That, was enough. To her the dry, withered stems were daily strengthened by the freshly brought water, the shrivelled flowers looked bright, and shed their fragrance still around the poor chamber. Not to her senses. No; but to her soul. Why should they not? Other flowers might not: but these--"these were brought by __him__." Oh! when the heart remembers, how priceless becomes the gift, what shining beauty adorns it, what magic charms does it not possess!

Thus, beloved brethren, let our hearts remember God for His manifold mercies. They come from Him. They come from the Best, the Holiest, the Truest, the Everlasting Friend. But I speak in vain if you do not understand me. If the Giver is not all that and more to you, never will His gifts be in your eyes as precious and as dear as they should be, and not long will you remember them. It is the question of the Psalmist, "Who is wise, and will keep these things in mind, and will understand the mercies of the Lord?" [Footnote 2]

[Footnote 2: Ps. cvi. 43.] [USCCB: Psalms cvii. 43.]

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To remember the mercies of God is to make good use of them. To what end has he blessed us with the gift of faith? That it should simply distinguish us from those who do not possess it, and to lie idle and fruitless in our soul? Vain ornament, indeed, that honors neither the giver nor him who receives it. You are a Catholic in name, and you do not forget it. Is it enough to remember that? Oh! answer God to-day. Do you remember when Sunday morning comes, and the priest is ascending the altar, that you are a Catholic, and where a Catholic should be found then? Do you remember when the Church is calling her children to the confession of their sins, and to the Holy Communion at the joyful Easter time, that you are a Catholic, and what it behooves a Catholic to do then? Do you remember when obscene and blasphemous language is used in your presence that you are a Catholic, and think what part a Catholic should take in that? Tell me, can you lift your heart to Him to-day, and say in truth--My God, Thou knowest that I have not forgotten Thee? "I have chosen the way of truth: Thy judgments I have not forgotten." [Footnote 3]

[Footnote 3: Ps. cxviii. 30.] [USCCB: Ps. cxix. 30; "The way of loyalty I have chosen; I have set your edicts before me."]

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You got over that illness. I know that you said, "If God spares my life, I will be a changed man--I will be an altered woman. No more will I be seen staggering in drunkenness. No longer will I keep a grog-shop, and stain my hands with the hard-earned and wickedly-squandered money of my neighbor--blood-money, cursed by the cries of the brutally treated wife and the moans of the naked, starved children. No longer will I be a nominal Catholic, a standing scandal to unbelievers, and damning my own soul by my criminal neglect of God and contempt of His Holy Church. I will give up all that spite and malice in my heart, and go and be reconciled with those who have injured me for the sake of Him who said, 'Forgive, and you shall be forgiven.'" Do you remember all that? Yes; but what avails such a heartless remembrance as yours has been? Even He has reminded you of your promise and of His mercy from time to time, as He now again reminds you by my mouth. Oh! mock Him not. Better, far better, would it be had you wholly forgotten both promise and mercy. It would not be generous, I allow; but now you are false and treacherous, for the mercy was granted, but the promise remains unfulfilled.

In the sorrow of your stricken spirit, and with the grievous burden of sin lying heavy upon you, your guardian angel took you one day, trembling, anxious, fearful, harassed by the stings of remorse, to the confessional. {27} There you poured out your griefs, and told all the shameful guilt--griefs that seemed eternal, and guilt that no oceans might wash away. And yet, O tender mercy of God! down falls the veil of darkness, and your soul is bathed in light. You, who a moment ago were stumbling in despair at the portals of hell, are now standing before the gates of heaven. You, who had that in your soul which almost drove you to madness, now are in such peace that words fail you, and you weep for very joy. Yes, of a truth God has been very merciful, tenderly merciful to you. Ah! what would you not then do for God--what sacrifices would you not make--what life long resolutions were you not ready to form! Do you not remember? Ah, yes! now I remind you of it. But how long did you remember it to any profit to yourself or praise to God? And tell me, how now? What of your present remembrance? An East Indian having been shown all about the beautiful city of Paris, through its royal palaces, its galleries of art, its manufactories of wondrous scientific and mechanical instruments, manifested, it was observed, but little enthusiasm. The Indian was too proud to show any emotion at sight of the works of strangers. One day he was taken to the Jardin des Plantes, where are cultivated trees, shrubs, and flowers of every clime. {28} Suddenly he stopped short before a tropical tree, fell upon his knees, clasped it lovingly and kissed it, and, as the tears flowed fast down his swarthy cheek, cried out, in his own language, "O tree of my own land! O tree of my own native land, so far away! Let us go back home again."

There are some of you, my brethren, to whom I have shown the picture of a mercy you cannot but remember well. How does the sight of it affect you? Are you moved with that deep emotion such a memory should awaken? Do you hug the memory of that hour of peace to your bosom, and does your heart cry out, "O tender mercy of my God! O sweet hour of peace now so far away! Let me go back to thee again!" Blessed remembrance, as happy for yourself as it is dear to God. You are wise because you keep these things in mind, and have understood the mercies of the Lord, and the praise of the Lord for all the things He hath bestowed upon you.

But can you look at it with indifference, seeing there nothing to stir the depths of your soul, nothing to call forth a grateful aspiration from your breast? Then I think of that uncivilized Indian, and must say: He loved his country better than you love God. He was quick to remember __that__; you have been quick to forget __Him__.

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