Part 16

Beautiful is the happy death of a Christian! Death! He does not die. He enters into life; he rests from his labors; he falls asleep in the Lord. Not long ago, I received an invitation to attend the funeral of a priest. It was couched in these words: "You are invited to attend the funeral of the Very Rev. Patrick Moran, who entered into his rest at half-past eight on Wednesday morning last." Fitting sentence, indeed, to describe the death of that venerable and holy old man! Through a long life he lived and labored only for God. Full of years and of merit, ripe for heaven, and ready to begin his eternal life, he ceased from work at the call of his divine Master, and entered into his rest. Thus should every Christian die. It is what the Holy Church wishes for us all. When the solemn dirges are chanted over us, again and again she prays: "__Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine." "Requiescant in pace.__" "Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord!" "May they rest in peace!"

My brethren, I have tried to-day to lay before you the duties of the dying Christian. Soon will some of you be called upon to put them in practice. Are you all ready for the last preparations? Is your life to-day such as you would like it to be, if to-morrow you are to die? Is your confession made for this year? Have you received the Easter Communion? Are you at peace with God and men? {282} These are questions which you will wish to be able to answer in the affirmative when you call upon the priest for your holy rites and his parting blessing. Prepare now, that you may be prepared then. Begin to-day, for the hour may come sooner than you imagine in which you shall hear this awful message from the Lord: "Put thy house in order, for thou shalt die, and not live."

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Sermon XIX.

The King's Marriage Feast.

(For The Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost.)

St. Matt. xxii. 14.

"__For many are called, but few are chosen.__"

There are some Catholics who, with the smallest quantity of the spirit of the Catholic religion, are very boastful of the name. They look down upon those who are out of the fold of the Church with scorn and contempt. Their whole demeanor indicates that they consider themselves immensely superior to these unfortunate creatures, who are all doomed necessarily to eternal destruction. As to themselves, they deem it impossible that they should incur the same doom, because they are Catholics. They are not members of the Church so much by a special divine favor, but rather they have conferred a favor on God by belonging to it. The Church belongs to them by the right of birth, and the fact of their parents having been Catholics gives them the privilege of sneering at all not born under similar circumstances. {284} I have even heard such persons call converts to the faith by the sweet and charitable epithet of "turncoats," and say they should have remained where they were, and that it is a disgraceful thing to abandon the religion of one's forefathers. Catholicity with such is a thing of descent and of family pride; not a thing of the heart and of the will.

The Holy Ghost understood this spirit, and, by the mouth of St. John the Baptist, rebuked it severely: "Bring forth fruits worthy of penance, and do not begin to say, We have Abraham for our father." [Footnote 107] These words, applied to the Jews of old, might well be translated for the benefit of many Catholics nowadays--Do not begin to say, We are born of Catholic parents, our forefathers have been Catholics for many generations, if you are living like the heathen; but bring forth fruits worthy of that holy and sacred name of Catholic; otherwise you will never come to enjoy the presence of God, but be everlastingly cast out.

[Footnote 107: St. Luke iii. 8.]

The parable of to-day gives us the most useful instruction on this very subject. A certain king made a marriage feast for his son. This king is the God of heaven and earth. The marriage feast He makes is the participation of the creature in His own glory; a boundless and inconceivable happiness, which shall never have end or diminution; a realization of more than we have dreamed of, or could possibly imagine.

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This is the marriage feast of His Eternal Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, because He, by taking our flesh upon Himself and becoming man, by suffering and dying upon the cross, has redeemed us from sin, elevated us far above the capacity of nature, and enabled us to aspire to this magnificent destiny. It is His marriage feast, because it is the celebration of the eternal nuptials of Himself with the soul. It is the marriage feast in which the Omnipotence of the Eternal Beauty is exercised to render the guests eternally and supremely happy, filling them with an ocean of unbounded joy and contentment.

The king sent out his servants into the highways and public streets, with directions to call or invite to his feast all they should meet, and urge them to come in.

This is what God does now every day. He calls, indiscriminately, the rich and the poor, the noble and the lowly, into the fold of His Church. It is no merit on their part which brings them the invitation. They are all ragged and dirty in the sight of God. Not one of them but would be a disgrace to the King's feast; but God does not look at that. He is moved only by His desire to do them a great favor, and confer upon them great happiness. {286} When He invites them, He intends to make them fit; to wash off the dirt, and put suitable clothing upon them, so that they may be made fit to enter His banqueting-hall. He has them brought to an outer room, where are baths and precious ointments, and splendid garments, and servants in abundance to put them on. They need not trouble themselves with the expense of providing anything, for the King provides all.

A child is brought to the priest for baptism. That child is of Catholic parents, and they bring it. The child knows nothing at all of what is done for it. It had no choice in the matter. It might have been born of another race and of another religion, but God, and not itself, has caused it to be born of Catholic parents, and to be brought by them to baptism. It is, as it were, met on the highway and called in, all stained by original sin, to be washed in baptism, endowed with the right to the sacraments, and invested with an immortal inheritance. So likewise Jesus Christ has commanded His ministers to go and preach the Gospel to every creature; to go and invite everybody who hears their voice to come in and enjoy the same privileges. Those who accept the invitation have as much right as those who are invited in the other way, by the accident of their birth; for no one has any other right than what comes from the pure bounty and goodness of the King. {287} Those who are born of Catholic parents, and those who are Catholics by their own free choice in later life, stand on the same footing. We are all a crowd of beggars, who were in the broad highway, and have heard the invitation of the King of kings, and have come in in obedience to it. We are now all standing in the outer hall of the eternal banquet, or rather in the banqueting-room itself, waiting for the King to come in, when the music will begin, and all its grandeur be lighted up by His presence.

It is a most solemn reflection, my friends. You and I have received this invitation. The King's messengers have met us on the highway, and they have forced us to come in. We have been compelled to come in, for ruin and death were the alternative of staying out. We have no longer the liberty of ranging the highways. We are no longer in the position of the heathen--without the knowledge of the true religion, and without baptism. The indelible mark, or character as it is termed, of baptism has been imprinted on our souls; all the ages of eternity will not suffice to wipe it out. Poor as this privilege was to be hungry and ragged and miserable, it is ours no longer, but we are in the banqueting-hall of the marriage feast.

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There we are, and we cannot go out into the highway again. Once in, the door is shut behind us, and there is no key to unlock it. Once removed out of the state of our birth and made heirs of the kingdom of heaven by baptism, it is impossible to put us back again in our former relations. The mark of baptism, stamped upon our souls, will remain with us either in heaven or in hell. Elevated by God's goodness far above the condition of our nature, if we fall, it must be down, deeper far than the condition from which we were first taken.

A man may neglect his duty to God, and try to persuade himself that the end and object of his existence is to get money, or fame, or power, or pleasure, but he will find to his cost that it was no such thing. The end and object of his existence was to learn to love and serve God in this world, in order to be happy with Him in the next; to prepare to be a worthy guest at the marriage feast of the Lamb, the Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ.

And now we are all in at the feast, and the King comes around to see the guests. He discovers one without a suitable garment on; one who has had the brazen-faced shamelessness to intrude himself into the company all ragged and dirty, without the least pains to make himself look decent, and pay respect to the King and his guests. Could there be a more outrageous insult? {289} Could anything be more wanton and impudent than such conduct? The King had provided everything; all they needed was at hand; He had warned them to make themselves fit before going in: and here is this man, in spite of all this, deliberately walking into this splendid entertainment, with old tattered clothes and unwashed face and hands. The King is justly indignant, and commands him to be bound hand and foot, and cast into a dismal prison.

Is it not so? Has not God provided the Holy Sacrament of Penance, where, with little trouble, the soul can be washed and cleansed from all its defilements? The Holy Sacrament of the altar, where the soul is nourished, and strengthened, and adorned by feeding on the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ? Are not innumerable graces and virtues waiting for us, ready to be given, if we will only take the trouble to ask for them?

Yes, the King of Glory will come around to see the guests at the eternal feast. He will inspect each one of us. When will He come around? When we die. Then it is the Judge of the whole human race will come around to see if we are in the banqueting-hall of the eternal feast with the marriage garment on.

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We came up to the door of the church, and we received a ticket of admission. All right so far. We entered the door, and we remained within among the rest. Still all is right, and no doubt we felt pleased to be in such good company, and no one turned us out. But what good will all this do if we have not the wedding garment on? What good will it do us to have gone to the church and heard the sermons, if we have not on the wedding garment? What good to have had the sacraments in life, or even at the hour of death, if we have not on the wedding garment?

What is this wedding garment? The grace of God. If we are in mortal sin, we have not the wedding garment on. We pulled it off when we committed sin, and rendered ourselves utterly unfit for the company of heaven. If we are in mortal sin at this moment, we are now in the marriage feast of the King's Son without the wedding garment, and woe be to us if the King should happen to come around. At any moment His eye may fall upon us, and we may hear the words, "Friend, why camest thou in hither with out having on a wedding garment?" You will be struck dumb with confusion and have nothing to reply; and then will go forth the irrevocable sentence, "Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into the outer darkness; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth."

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Oh! who can comprehend the folly of the human race--a race of beings so feeble and miserable, and limited by its nature, and yet so unlimited and unbounded in its cravings for happiness-- who can make so little of that offer which lifts them out of all this misery and exceeds their highest expectations? One would think this offer would fill them with delight and a noble enthusiasm to avail themselves of it. And yet, what do we see? God's offer is despised. An immortal destiny is thrown away. Man, created to the image and likeness of God, makes himself like the beasts that perish. He boasts and prides himself on the fact that he lives for the body, and despises eternity and God.

Many are called. Many are placed in the way of salvation. Many have an abundance of means in their hands to attain to it. With a little attention, with light exertion, many would be saved who are lost. What inexcusable folly! Let us not be guilty of it. Let us live for our immortal souls. Let us put on the wedding garment of truth, and sincerity, and justice--that white garment that we received at baptism--and see that we keep it unspotted until the end.

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Sermon XX.

Good Use Of Sickness.

(For The Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost.)

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

"__My son, in thy sickness neglect not thyself, but pray to the Lord, and he shall heal thee.__"

The Gospel of the day relates the miracle of the healing of the ruler's son. That this man had the right kind of faith which pleases God, and obtains extraordinary favors from His hand, is shown by the promptitude of his belief in what our Lord said to him. Although he had urged and insisted upon our Lord's going down to Capharnaum with him, yet, no sooner did he hear the words, "Go thy way, thy son liveth," than he immediately returned home alone without further doubt or remonstrance.

I do not think, my brethren, that we exercise enough of this faith in God in our sicknesses; not, understand me, that we are to look for miraculous cures of our ailments and diseases, or that we are to condemn ourselves for want of faith if our prayers for relief are not answered on a sudden; but what I mean is, that we too often misapprehend the cause of our sicknesses, and do not make the good use of them we might. Let me say a few words which may be for our instruction and edification on these points.

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In any event, whatever may be the direct cause of our sickness, it is, after all, the will of God. If we fall sick through our own culpable neglect or criminal excesses, it is still the will of God. We have, in this, disturbed the good order of His Providence, and suffer the natural consequences of it. There are, besides, those countless forms of disease and phases of ill health which afflict us, and which we are not able to trace to any fault of ours. We fall sick, and cannot tell how or why. An invisible hand has touched us at a moment we knew not, and our strength is gone, the light has fled from our eyes, and the color from our cheek. A secret poison has insinuated itself into our blood, and dried up the fountains of health and vigor. Fierce and rapid in its destruction, a week, a day, or even a few hours suffice to bring us to the point of death, and shatter the boasted glory of our strength. Then, if the danger passes and the prospect of returning health smiles upon us, we have yet to pass through the long and tedious days and nights of convalescence, gathering but slowly, and with great labor and suffering, that which we lost so quickly and so easily.

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The first and most necessary truth for a Christian to reflect upon in the time of sickness is that, in some way or other, God's hand is in it, and that the stroke falls either in chastisement, in mercy, or as a special favor and blessing. We must never forget that life is given to us with all its vicissitudes of joy and sorrow, of prosperity and adversity, of pains and pleasures, more because of eternity than on its own account. Sickness comes in its proper turn at fitting times as a part of the life that we are to lead here below; and when it is good for us, then God sends it. He has ends in view that we may be wholly ignorant of. He knows our souls well and watches over them, and a Christian ought to believe that he is never sick in body but for the sake of the health of his soul.

But some one may say that is bringing sickness, health, and the like within the pale of religion. "O ye sons of men! how long will ye be dull of heart? Why do you love vanity, and seek after lying?" We are cunning enough in the ways of the world, but why so slow to understand the ways of God? Is there anything that we are, or have, or can be that is not of God? Why forever trying to lie to ourselves, and leave Him out of account? Are we sick or well, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, honored or despised, that God does not know it, has not so appointed it, and has not good reasons for it? And is not the referring of any or all of the states of our being to Him an act of religion?

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The truth is, my brethren, that the manner in which one receives and bears an attack of illness is a good test of one's religion. You will see some giving away to inordinate fear and anxiety upon the approach of the first symptoms of disease. They are not in the habit of referring even their health to God, or of thanking Him for it. They imagine they live of themselves. So, when they feel their own strength leaving them, and are forced to say--I can hold up myself no longer, then terror seizes upon them, as if all aid, human or divine, was wanting, because they can no longer help themselves.

See, too, how the positively irreligious and wicked man generally acts in the commencement of sickness. He talks about his fate, his ill-luck, and curses it. He utters incoherent cries of impatience, and is full of anxiety to discover the act of indiscretion on his own part, or the fault of others, through which he has fallen ill.

But the true Christian, whose soul is prepared for tribulation, with whom God is no stranger in the time of health, recognizes instantly the hand of God when that health is threatened. With holy Job, he exclaims: "If we have received good things at the hand of God, why should we not receive evil?" [Footnote 108]

[Footnote 108: Job ii. 10.]

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He may be surprised, as all are, at the unlooked-for blow, but there is no sign of angry complaint or of envious repining. It is all right, he says, God knows best. This one thought satisfies his heart, God knows about it. He knows why He sends it. He knows how long it will last; how much I shall suffer, and how it will end. May His holy will be done!

You see, my brethren, that what I desire to impress upon your minds is that, in all sickness, from whatever cause, the will of God is to be acknowledged. It is not every Christian, I regret to say, who does so look upon it. Too often you will find it regarded as a grievous misfortune, having no good reason why it should be, and without any compensation for the loss of worldly enjoyment and advantages which it necessarily entails; and, even if they do agree that God has sent it, then it is because God is angry with them. He is taking vengeance upon them. There appears to be no other possible reason that can be given for it.

As I said before, we are afflicted with sickness not only as a chastisement for sin, but sometimes also in mercy, as an act of loving-kindness and forethought on the part of God; and again very frequently, as in the case of holy Job, as an opportunity to try our faith, to enable us to show our constancy and love to God, and is therefore to be looked upon as a mark of predilection, and a positive blessing and grace.

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Certainly, sickness is sometimes sent as a punishment for sin. It comes as a natural and just consequence of sinful excesses. Look at the drunkard and the debauchee. They have gone on for awhile in seeming impunity, but every debauch was a blow struck upon the citadel of life and health. Soon it is shattered, and totters and falls into ruin. Go into the streets, and you may meet them, with haggard faces and trembling limbs. Go to the hospitals and the insane asylums, and see those wrecks of humanity, almost soulless men and women, drivelling idiots, and sickening masses of corruption. Go to many a sick bedside, in palace or in hovel, in this great city, and you may see how sin is punished by an outraged God. And, though you yourself could not trace the fever that blighted you for many long weeks to any natural cause, you know that you deserved it all. Your alarmed conscience did not fail to tell you that there were crimes of your life that demanded retribution. Your overweening pride, your ungovernable anger, has been humbled in the dust. Your days are shortened because of your disobedience and cruelty to your parents. {298} The money you have stolen and would not restore has been wrested from you by the heavy charges of your illness. Your disorderly appetites and lusts are now punished with compulsory and exhausting fasts from all food. "He hath struck you as being wicked, in open sight; who as it were on purpose hath revolted from Him, and would not understand His ways: so that you have caused the cry of the needy to come up before Him, and He has heard the voice of the poor." [Footnote 109]

[Footnote 109: Job xxxiv. 26, 28.]

You thought in your sin that you were stronger than God. Now He has rebuked you by sorrow on the sick bed, and has made all your bones to wither. Bread is become abominable to you, and to your soul the meat which before you desired. You have trampled on God's holy law; you would not go to Mass to worship Him. Now, though you would gladly go any distance, and suffer any pain to be present at it, you are denied that joy and consolation. You are as one upon whom the church doors are closed, for whom the altar is thrown down, and the priest departed. "In whatsoever a man sins," says the Holy Scripture, "in that also shall he be punished."

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Sickness has come upon you. Why? In mercy, God sees how indifferent you have become to Him. He sees how your soul has become absorbed in worldly things. Your heart is following after strange gods, and your footsteps are leading down to hell. As Eliu said to Job, "Your guardian angel has spoken to God for you, and said, Deliver him, that he may not go down to corruption." and God in mercy has heard his prayers, and your way is stopped. It is because God loves you, and would save you, that this has come upon you. In the days of pain, and during the long, feverish nights, you will remember God. In your anguish you will turn to Him for comfort, and in your fear you will put your trust in Him. This world has had too much of your heart. On a sick bed you will be able to judge how much it is worth. You will condemn the vanity of your life. The past will be repented of. New resolutions will be made. You will come back to health with a refreshed and chastened spirit. What the friend of Job said to him, you will say of yourself: "My flesh is consumed with punishments, that I may return to the days of my youth. I will pray to God, and He will be gracious to me: and I shall see His face with joy. When I look upon men, I shall say, I have sinned, and indeed I have offended, and I have not received what I deserved, hath delivered my soul from going into destruction, that it may live and see the light." [Footnote 110]

[Footnote 110: Job xxxiii. 25-28.]

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