Part 13

Now, how is it with us? The burden of the sermons preached from this altar, the year round, has been merely to get _justice_ done to God. We have been doing our best to get from you what is barely God's _due_. Our endeavor has been to get you to restore to God those rights of his, of which you have defrauded Him; and at best, we have had but partial success. But to-day, I ask you not for justice, but for generosity. Did I not say well then, when I expressed my fear that God would find but few who would accept his terms? {252} On his part, He offers to come and dwell in your souls. He offers you interior peace, supernatural strength, holiness, and salvation. Now what does He ask of you in return for all this? That you will act the part of a generous friend toward Him, by giving Him a large share of your thoughts, words, and actions. He is the magnet in the centre of your hearts. He is always drawing you toward Himself. He asks that you will put no obstacle in the way of his influence upon you. If disturbing causes for the moment turn you from Him, like the needle which may be shaken so as to point to the East or the South, like it He calls upon you not to rest till you have found your rest again in Him. St. Teresa says, that a generous soul _flies_ to God. She does not say that it runs, but that it flies to God. Now, what are we doing? We are content to creep and crawl toward God, like worms and caterpillars.

My dear brethren, I have told you a great truth, I have discovered to you a great treasure. It is within the reach of each one of you. Now I call upon this congregation for some companions to go with me in search of this treasure. {253} I do not expect to arouse the mass of you, as the cry of "gold" from California aroused the people of this city. I know the sad truth, that most people love gold better than they love God. But I _do_ count upon some. You would not expect that I should urge this "Interior Life" upon you, and remain myself as I am? Well then. I am going to try for it, and I call again upon you for some souls, few though they may be, who with me, will try to be generous with God. I call upon you by your Saviour's love in dying a painful and shameful death, to purchase it for you. I call upon you by his still further love in securing to you his abiding presence, in the most Holy Sacrament of the altar. Lastly, I call upon you by that act of his love which would be satisfied with nothing short of making your heart a tabernacle, as it were, where He may dwell perpetually, where He may live your life, and where you may live his life, as true children of St. Paul, who said: "_I live now no longer, but Christ liveth in me_." I have put my question. I have made my call upon you. I leave the answer with yourselves.

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Sermon XVI.

True Christian Humility.

"Every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted." --St. Luke, xviii. 14.

(From the Gospel for the 10th Sunday after Pentecost.)

It is impossible to mistake the great moral of this parable of the Publican and the Pharisee. It is intended to teach us humility. The Pharisee, with all his pretensions to piety and morality, was rejected because he was proud. The Publican, like the generality of revenue officers in that day, was loaded with sins; but he was sorry for them, and being humble, and ready to acknowledge himself for what he was, his prayer was accepted. All piety, therefore, without humility, is false. No matter what they may say about a man's good deeds or virtues; if he is proud, he is no saint. {255} There is no surer test of solid Christian virtue than humility. St. Philip Neri once called to see a sick Roman lady, who enjoyed a high reputation for sanctity. He found her sitting up, looking very weak, and very pious. Being desirous of putting all this perfection to the test, he lifted his dusty shoe upon the beautiful counterpane which covered the bed, and which, as it appeared to him, the good dame regarded with more than ordinary satisfaction. It turned out as he expected. He might as well have put his toe into a hornet's nest, for the pious lady was so mortified at the soiling of her counterpane that she let loose her tongue upon him in such strong Italian terms as came first to mind. "I wish you good morning, holy sister," said St. Philip. We may easily imagine what he thought of her sanctity.

Indeed, to prove the necessity of this virtue, we need go no farther than to the example contained in this day's gospel, and to the words of our blessed Lord in the text; for He tells us in plain terms: "_Every one, that exalteth himself shall be humbled; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted_." {256} Since, then, humility is so necessary, let us study it this morning; let us try to discover what true humility is, and to fill our hearts with the esteem of it, and the love of it.

Christian humility I understand to be this: _A lowly estimate of one s own worth in the light of Divine Truth_. This is, I am well aware, a definition of humility in the mind, rather than that of the heart; but it is not necessary to dwell upon any such distinction here, for humility of the heart is nothing else than the heart's consent to this lowly estimate of one's self, and practically speaking the two are seldom found apart.

1. Humility, I say, is a lowly estimate of one's own worth. Men are proud because they esteem themselves too highly; and this they do because they look at themselves in a false light. They look at themselves with worldly eyes, and compare themselves with what they see around them. They plume themselves up on advantages which, in the eyes of faith, are of little value. They look too low. The king sees nothing greater than himself, and looks down upon the nobles; the nobles look down upon the untitled gentry. {257} We have neither king nor nobles in our country, but we have a class of gentry who live upon fortunes made by their fathers, and were reared in good society. These look down upon those who have made their own fortunes by some honest trade. The tradesman looks down upon the farmer, the farmer upon the hired laborer, and the laborer who has a shanty, with a cow and pigs, finds some one still poorer to look down upon; and this last, perhaps, is proudest of all, for he is descended from some patriot of the Revolution, or, it may be, from Brian Boroihme. If, on the contrary, they would look at the sacred law of God, if they would study the pure and holy lessons of the Gospel, if they would raise their eyes upward to the high and heavenly destiny for which they were created--if by this new light they would compare themselves as they are with what they might be, and ought to be, the trifling advantages of this world would disappear, their pride would wither away, and give place to humility, the earliest, if not the sweetest flower of the Christian year.

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But how is it with those who are _spiritually_ proud? Do not they estimate themselves by the light of faith? No. Their pride would soon die out if they did. Faith, directing their eyes upward, would discover to them in God, in Jesus, and in the Saints, what true holiness is, and their poor store of sanctity would show like thumb-marks in a prayer-book, or spots upon the sun. In the darkness of a cloudy night, when only the nearest objects that lie about your feet are visible, your thoughts are bound up in that little circle as if all the universe were near you and beneath you, and you walking on its summit; but when the clouds are driven away, and the moon and the vast world of stars appear, the heaven seems like a measureless dome, and you, a little insect creeping upon the floor, look up in breathless wonder. So the pathway of a conceited devotee is lighted only by a few straggling rays of religious truth, and he sees himself shining as a luminous point in that narrow circle which is visible to his eyes; but let faith open the sky above him, and give him one long, calm, thoughtful look at the world above, and he stands rebuked and humbled. Oh! how little our virtue appears when, instead of comparing ourselves with the worldly crowd around us, we look up to see how the saints have lived, and what they have done!

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During the Moorish wars in Spain, while the Spaniards were besieging a city of the Moors, a brave Castilian knight advanced before his comrades, at great peril of his life, and for a memorial of his valor, wrote upon one of the city gates: "Hitherto came Vasco Fernandez." His companions were scandalized at his pride, and anxious to teach him a lesson. The next day, therefore, another hero of superior prowess forced his way still farther, and wrote in large letters upon another gate: "Hitherto Vasco Fernandez did not come." This, my dear brethren, is a lesson for the Christian soldier also, and well worth learning. Instead of comparing ourselves with the feeble and imperfect, and feeding our pride thereby, let us humble ourselves before the achievements of the Saints.

2. If humility is a lowly estimate of one's self, it is none the less truthful on that account. We must look upon ourselves as we really are, "in the light of Divine Truth," for this is included in my definition. One may think meanly of himself upon false grounds. {260} One may be ashamed of himself for things which in reality are praiseworthy. There is no virtue in this. Genuine humility needs to borrow no aid from falsehood. She is a grace bestowed by the God of truth. Now, there is something very unhealthy and degrading in this spurious sort of humility, which is founded upon self-calumny and pious exaggeration, for it leads to self-degradation. And this is the reason why I abhor the Protestant doctrine of "total depravity." It teaches men to say that they are, from their birth and by nature, so thoroughly corrupt, that there is absolutely nothing good in them. That there is, in reality, no such thing as natural virtue. That filial piety, honesty, fidelity, love of truth, chastity and temperance, have no merit in the unregenerate man, but, on the contrary, are sinful and displeasing to God. And their doctrine of justification leaves the Saint as bad as the sinner; for although his life is acceptable with God, it is not because he is in reality any better, or that his actions are more meritorious. On the contrary, his righteousness is all "filthy rags," and there is positively nothing good in him. He is justified and saved by faith alone. {261} If you say to them, "Ah, well, I understand you; this faith of which you speak is at least something meritorious, because it is enlivened and made holy by charity, or the love of God. It is this which makes faith so efficacious." No; they will not admit your explanation; there is popery in it; it is only an entering wedge to make way for the doctrine of good works. They refuse to accept any principle by which the good man may be supposed to be really any better than his neighbors. He is regenerated by the mantle of Christ's righteousness, which does not take away, but only covers up his "filthy rags." And his lesson of humility is, to insist upon it that there is nothing good in him. Now, I never saw any one, either man or woman, so bad that I thought there was no good in him; and I am always sorry to hear my Protestant friends speak so ill of themselves, for I don't believe them--I have seen too much real merit among them.

In truth, all this is false humility. It is but a form of words, and nobody in his heart believes it, or can believe it. Virtue is not vice. There is such a thing as real virtue and real merit in man. {262} God has given to all a conscience, which is nothing else than His own voice applauding or rebuking. There is such a thing as natural virtue, which deserves a reward in the natural order of God's providence; and there is such a thing as Christian virtue, which is begotten by supernatural grace, and deserves the supernatural reward of the Saints.

No wonder that, in the world, humility is too often looked upon as a counterfeit and degrading virtue, which takes away all manliness, hope, courage, and generous ambition, from the soul. Oh, if it were so, I would suffer my tongue to be torn out of my mouth, before I would preach it at this altar. If ever there was a time when we needed manly virtue in the Church, it is now. If ever there was a time when Christianity seemed to have melted into effeminacy and pusillanimity, it is now. The race of Martyrs, of Confessors of the faith, of Christian athletes, of true Sages and sacred Scholars, of men of action who knew how to open their eyes, and men of prayer who knew how to shut them, of Catholic Matrons and Virgins whose hunger after holiness was not satisfied by crosses and medals, scapulars and holy water--this ancient race of Christians has well nigh dwindled away. {263} We of the present day seem to be playing with religion. We are not in earnest. We are ashamed of what ought to be our glory; we are proud of that which constitutes our shame. We have no blushes for our sins; while we are too bashful to be devout, and too timid to practise virtue. We acknowledge that we are wicked; although we do not hold it to be precisely our own fault, but a fault of our nature, and we have no ambition to be better. We confess our sins by throwing all the blame upon the God who made us, and this we call humility. Oh! this is false humility. God made us well enough; our sins are all our own. If we look at ourselves as we really are, in the light of divine truth, we shall find matter enough to make us humble.

3. True Christian humility, so far from degrading, ennobles the heart in which it dwells. It leads directly to hope; and hopefulness is, in all great hearts, the essential element of their courage, energy, enterprise, and success. Now Pride, with her two brazen-faced daughters Self-conceit and Self-confidence, stands directly in the way of Christian hope and courage.

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In spiritual matters, so long as one depends upon himself, he is sure of failure; for without the grace of God one cannot advance a single step. "_Without Me_," said our Lord to His disciples, "_you can do nothing_." [Footnote 109]

[Footnote 109: St. John xv., 5.]

With repeated failure comes despair, or at least, despondency; and then all hope, courage, and generous enterprise take flight. But how different is the experience of the humble heart! It begins with self-distrust; it acknowledges its own feebleness. "_For I know_," says the Apostle Paul, "_that there is no good dwelling in me; that is to say, in my flesh. As for the will to do good, that I find present, but the power to do it I do not find_." [Footnote 110]

[Footnote 110: Rom. vii. 18.]

Not daring, therefore, to trust in himself, the humble Christian learns to lean upon God, and to confide fully in his grace; and then he becomes strong and full of courage, and can say with St. Paul, "_I can do all things through him who strengthens me_." [Footnote 111]

[Footnote 111: Phil, iv., 13.]

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Thus, in the Christian warfare, humility is the first and last lesson of all noble, generous, and heroic souls; for their great hearts are sustained by great hopes, and their hope is nourished by humility.

Humility, and that hopefulness and courage which grow out of humility, are also the most efficacious means of converting the shamefaced, downcast sinner. Take, for example, the habitual drunkard. The pledge will not help him long; and why? Because he is degraded in his own eyes, and has no confidence in his own resolutions. What he wants most is courage, and the pledge cannot give him that. The pledge teaches him to rely on himself, and on himself he cannot rely. "I'm willing," says he, "but I'm weak. If you are going to give me the pledge, put it on me strong, so that I won't break it." See how the poor fellow is anxious to find some support to lean upon, outside of his own weak will, and is almost ready to believe that the priest can give him that stability which he so much needs. Now, what is to be done? The only way is to put confidence and courage into his heart; and this is done by pointing him upward to God, the only source of grace and strength, and "_who is able to do all things more abundantly than we can ask_." [Footnote 112]

[Footnote 112: Ephes. iii., 20.]

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Do not take the heart out of him by words of contempt and scalding abuse, but speak to him kindly and encouragingly. "I know, my dear friend, that you are weak; but God is strong, and his grace is able to make you strong. He has had worse cases than you in hand before now, and made glorious Saints of them too. Never despair; you were created for better things. Make one more trial now, and with the help of God you'll shake off this miserable habit forever." That's the way to reform a confirmed drunkard who has grace enough, at least, to be ashamed of himself. Do not strike a man that is already down. Do not make him more self-degraded than he is, but out of his humiliation endeavor to fill him with hope in God. Talk to him cheerfully. Give him a clean shirt and a clean collar. Get him to wash himself and shave himself, and brush his hair. He will now begin to feel like a man; and the next step is to feel like a Christian. Take him then to the Church, and to confession; and when upon his knees, with, a contrite heart, he has confessed and renounced his sins, let him there pledge himself against that drink which has poisoned him, body and soul; and the grace of God will carry him through. {267} In this way, courage and strength are born of humility. It is a virtue that does not degrade, but ennobles the heart where it lodges.

I have said enough, I think--all, at least, my dear brethren, that can well be said within the compass of a morning's sermon, to illustrate the true nature of Christian humility. I need not enlarge upon the advantages or the necessity of it. Humility is one of those sweet virtues which carries its own recommendation with it, which needs only to be seen in order to be prized. Enough has already been said to justify that maxim of the ascetic writers, that humility is the foundation of all the virtues. Any mason will tell you, that before you can build a substantial Church you must dig away the loose dirt below, and hollow out a foundation for the walls. This is the first step of all, and until this is done, neither walls, nor tower, nor roof, nor any part of the building can be safely undertaken. It is the same in that spiritual temple which has to be erected in every soul that is saved. {268} Before we build up we must first go down. Humility must first begin the work; must dig up and throw aside the sand and rubbish of pride, and self-conceit, and vain confidence, which have gathered like a loose soil upon our hearts. Then, and not till then, are we ready, with faith, and hope, and charity, and the other virtues, to rear the strong walls, and towers, and arches, with all the parts and ornaments which make the Temple of God complete within our souls. In fine, religion is of little use to one who will not learn to be humble; and therefore an English poet, varying the figure which I have employed, says very well:

"Ye who would build the churches of the Lord, See that ye make the western portals low! Let no one enter who disdains to bow!"

If any thing were needed to confirm this view of the necessity of humility, we have the words of our Lord himself: "_Unless you be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven_." [Footnote 113]

[Footnote 113: St. Matt, xviii., 3.]

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Are we then, my brethren, anxiously desirous of saving our souls? Would we be something in the kingdom of God? Would we become strong in faith, great in hope, abounding in charity? Then let us cast pride away! Let us learn to be humble! Let us become willing imitators of Jesus Christ, who has said: "_Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart, and you shall find rest to your souls_." [Footnote 114]

[Footnote 114: St. Matt, xi., 29.]

And let us believe his word, that there is no other way of salvation; for He it is who tells us in this day's Gospel, that "_every one that exalteth himself shall be humbled; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted_."

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Sermon XVII

What The Desire To Love God Can Do.

"Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind." --St. Luke x., 27.

(From the Gospel for the 12th Sunday after Pentecost)

There are two ways in which one may set about fulfilling this commandment of the Lord.

The first way is, to do what is barely necessary in order that we may be said to fulfil it at all. The second way is, to fulfil it in its perfection, according to the most generous meaning of the words. When may one be said to fulfil it in the first way? When he has a firm determination to keep clear, at all times, of every mortal sin. It is plain, that in this case he can be said to fulfil the commandment, because, after all, he prefers God to every thing else. {271} When he determines to avoid every mortal sin, no matter what the temptation to commit it may be, he does give his whole mind and heart to God in some sense--at least, really and substantially, though it may be imperfectly. If he does not go that far, he does not in any sense fulfil this commandment. He loves the sinful thing more than he loves God. He is ready to give up God, rather than his will and pleasure. His whole heart and soul loves sin--is turned away from God. He cannot entertain any hope of eternal life: that is clear from the words of the Saviour in to-day's Gospel. The Lawyer asked Him, "_What shall I do to possess eternal life?_" The Saviour said, "_What is written in the law? how readest thou?_" He answered: "_Thou shalt love the Lord God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind_." And the Saviour replied: "_Thou hast answered right, this do and thou shalt live_." You see what the condition is. We must fulfil this commandment, or there is no eternal life for us. {272} Let us not deceive ourselves. If we cannot honestly and sincerely say: 'I am determined to keep clear of every mortal sin,' our religion is vain. Don't build on the idea that we shall be saved because of the Catholic faith we profess. "_Think not_," says Jesus, "_to say, We have Abraham for our Father. Do penance; the axe is laid to the root of the tree; every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit shall be hewn down and cast into the fire_." [Footnote 115]

[Footnote 115: St. Luke iii., 8, 9.]