Part 4

The Holy Church too, has a right to exact from us the obligation to lead an exemplary life. For as in a flock of pigeons, on seeing one fly all the others follow, so it is in the society of the Church, the good example of one member encourages and edifies the whole body. That you may understand the watchfulness and jealousy of our Lord over his flock, listen to his own language: "_He that shall scandalize one of these little ones that believe in me, it were better that a mill-stone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the sea. ... Woe to that man by whom scandal cometh._" [Footnote 30]

[Footnote 30: Matt, xviii., 6. 7.]

The Church has not only the right to claim from us to follow in Christ's footsteps for the sake of believers, but also for the unbeliever. According to the words of Christ: "_Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father in heaven_." [Footnote 31]

[Footnote 31: Matt, v., 16.]

It is more by the testimony of a good example than by miracles, that unbelievers are brought to the light of truth. This is illustrated by the example of the martyr St. Lucien. {69} It is related of him by Surius, that he led many unbelievers to the knowledge of the truth and to embrace the Catholic faith, by the modesty of his life and his exemplary conduct. So powerful was the influence of his example, that the Emperor Maximilian, when seated upon his throne and about to condemn him to death, commanded that he should be kept out of his view, behind a veil, lest even the mere sight of the saint should change him into a Christian. Is it not then with good reason St. John Chrysostom says: "There would be no heathens were we such Christians as we ought to be. ... Paul was but a man, yet how many did he draw after him! If we were all such as he, how many worlds might we have drawn to us!" [Footnote 32]

[Footnote 32: 1 Tim. Hom, x.]

How was it St. Paul attracted so many to Christ? He tells us himself, in these words: "_Give no offence to the Jews, nor to the gentiles, nor to the church of God; as I also please all men in all things, not seeking that which is profitable to myself, but to many; that they may be saved._" [Footnote 33]

[Footnote 33: 1 Cor. x., 31, 32.]

[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is: 1 Cor. x., 32-33.]

{70}

It is clear, then, beyond all dispute, that every one who claims the name of a Christian is bound by a lasting and sacred obligation to give testimony to Christ by following in his footsteps, and consequently those who fail are guilty of robbing their Lord and Master of his rights, and are no true Catholics, but traitors to the faith.

Who are they who fail to give this testimony of Christ? I will tell you.

You will find many who were born of Catholic parents, were baptized in the faith when young, and yet never acknowledging the faith of their fathers, and of their baptism. They are not open apostates, they neither attack their faith, nor defend it when attacked. You might know them for years and not dream that they were Catholics. It is hard to tell what they really are. They are not Protestants, nor Jews, nor Turks, for these have religious convictions, and do not deny them, but the men I speak of either have no religious convictions, or want the manliness to acknowledge them. They do not like to be known as Catholics, and yet they identify themselves publicly with free-masons, odd-fellows, and similar secret societies.

{71}

Another class consists of those who confess themselves Catholics, but never, or very rarely, enter the Church. They take offence at the slightest irregularity, whether it be in the priesthood, or the preaching, or in the manner of conducting public worship; and under some such pretext they excuse their grievous neglect of worship, and their profound indifference to all the sacred duties of religion. These claim the name of Catholic, and their conduct is that of an infidel.

A third class is composed of those who now and then on occasion of a jubilee or a mission, or some similar event, come to Church, and perhaps receive the holy sacraments. Their religion is like a fire in the straw, it soon dies out. Talk to these men of their business, and they will tell you that a man who does not watch and pay constant attention to it, will soon find himself bankrupt. Speak to them of the affairs of the nation, and they will tell you that the country is going to ruin, because its citizens neglect to attend political meetings and fail to approach the polls at election times. On business, or politics, on almost every thing but their religion, they reason correctly, and act like sensible men; on their duties to God and the affairs of their soul they appear to be as destitute of reason as they are of loyalty. Money is their God, and their religion is politics.

{72}

The fourth class is made up of the rank and file of sinners--cursors, drunkards, and the army of grog-shop keepers. These latter, under the pretext of making a living, spread more misery, wretchedness, and crime among our people, than all the plagues of Egypt brought upon the inhabitants of that land. The source of nine-tenths of the scandal to our holy religion is in the grog-shops; and to make the scandal of their vile and unlawful traffic more conspicuous, they congregate by preference in the neighborhood of a Church, justifying the well-known proverb:

"Where God erects a house of prayer, Satan must have a chapel there."

The grog-shop keepers are the worst enemies of our holy religion in this country, for they not only occasion the destruction of a vast number of Catholics, but by the disgust which their bad example creates, they offer the greatest hindrances to the conversion of non-catholics.

{73}

These are some out of the great number of those who fail to give testimony of Christ; for we have not the time to enumerate all. Now, what is very strange, and yet characteristic of all these, they appear to live as though they were unconscious of their obligations, and of the guilt which they incur. They seem to think that if they are allowed to assume the name of a Christian or Catholic, they are safe. Well then, asks one, why not exclude them from the Church altogether, so that the whole world can see what they are? This is the way we do away with unprofitable subjects in other institutions. Take, for example, a railroad corporation. Sometimes a company of this kind starts with great prospects. The number who travel on the road is prodigious. The stockholders congratulate themselves on a heavy dividend; when to their wonder, on reckoning up their accounts, they find the company running fast into bankruptcy. Investigations are made, and it is discovered that a large number of the passengers have been paying no fare, riding as "dead-heads." These being struck off, the corporation begins to prosper again. Not so with the holy Church. She is in this respect unlike all other institutions. She is likened by her Founder to a field of wheat, in which the enemy had sown cockle. {74} And when one of the servants said to the master: "_Wilt thou that we go to gather it up? and he said, no; lest while you gather up the cockle, you root up the wheat also together with it. Let both grow until the harvest; and in the time of harvest, I will say to the reapers, gather up first the cockle, and bind it into bundles to burn; but gather the wheat into my barn._" [Footnote 34]

[Footnote 34: Matt, xiii., 28-30.]

The time to cut off the faithless children, the "dead-heads" of the Church, is not now, but "in the harvest time," the day of general reckoning, when our Lord shall appear in power and majesty to judge the world. Then he will say to these: "I am your Lord and Master, why have you not obeyed me?" He will show them his wounds, and say: "Behold the price I paid to redeem you from sin! What right had you to refuse my service? I came upon earth to give an example that you might follow my steps, and you turned your back upon me! You were a scandal to the Church, and a stumbling-block in the way of others. You refused to give testimony to my mercy, now you shall give testimony to my sovereign justice. Gather up this cockle, these faithless, false, treacherous disciples," he will say to his servants, "and let their portion be in the pool which burns with fire and brimstone." [Footnote 35]

[Footnote 35: Apoc. xxi., 8.]

{75}

Could but our voice reach the ears, and our entreaties penetrate the hearts of these guilty Catholics, we would lift it up and cry out to them: Do penance speedily! Repair by a good example the evil which your bad example has caused to your neighbor. Strive to gain more souls to Christ than your wicked life has lost to him heretofore. Let your good works shine out the more, so that like the servant of the eleventh hour, you may obtain the full wages of eternal life.

As for you, dearest brethren, who have manfully withstood until now all temptations to be disloyal to your faith, whose lives, full of good works, have borne noble testimony to Christ, lift up your eyes and hearts to heaven at this season of our Lord's ascension. "_I go,_" he says, "_to prepare a place for you. I will come again, and will take you to myself; that where I am, you may be also_." [Footnote 36]

[Footnote 36: John xiv., 2, 3.]

{76}

Sermon V.

Spiritual Death.

"Behold! a dead man was carried out." --St. Luke vii., 12.

(From the Gospel of the 15th Sunday after Pentecost.)

What a touching occasion was this, in which our Blessed Lord was pleased to manifest his power, and perform one of his many acts of infinite mercy; an act, which like all his miracles, was not only full of loving-kindness to those for whom it was performed, but also replete with spiritual instruction for all.

A widow is bereaved of her only consolation, a son, in whom were centred all her hopes, in whose happiness all her own was bound up; the pride of her eyes, her joy in adversity, and the sunshine to her poor heart in the cloudy days of sorrow.

{77}

Perhaps, too, he was her only support; his the arm which labored for their daily bread, and she looked forward to the time when age and gray hairs should bring infirmity, and her enfeebled body tremble on the verge of the grave; then would he be the light to her dimmed eyes, and a guide to her tottering steps.

And now, alas! he is gone! Is the world all dead? Is it always night? Do the birds sing no more? Are the earth and sky all wrapped in a great, gloomy mantle of grief? Where is her heart, does it beat no more? Ah! so it is indeed to her.

How she watched him in the long hours of his racking pains, his burning fever. At times he did not know her; _her_, his own dear mother. Oh! how she prayed for him. Oftentimes, as he lay upon his dying bed unconscious, she would kneel down beside him, and take his thin wasted hand in hers, and lift up her streaming eyes to God, the Father of the fatherless, and pour forth her soul in an agony of supplication, beseeching Him to spare her only son, her life, her all.

{78}

In vain. That hand grows cold within her grasp; those eyes, which erewhile were so full of expression, have assumed a dull glassy unmeaning stare, there is one shuddering convulsion, the breathing ceases, his jaw drops, and she is a broken-hearted, childless widow. That body, once so cherished and tenderly cared for, must soon be removed far away out of sight, and now, amid the lamentations of a sympathizing multitude, they carry it to the grave. She feels her loss so keenly that the very carriers of the bier seem to her to be heartless and unfeeling. Thus the scene in the Gospel opens: "_Behold, a dead man is carried out_." I know that poor widow. I have seen that dead man, her only son, the cherished idol of her heart, many a time. I know well those bearers, and they are assuredly most heartless and unfeeling. I have seen the Lord stop them on their way, as they carried him to the portals of death and hell.

Would you know who they are? Sinner! offspring of Holy Mother Church, part and parcel of her own life, who by sin hast lost the life of grace; it is thou! Behold thou art the dead man who is carried out. Contemplate thyself as in a mirror in this example from the Holy Gospel.

{79}

The Church has done for you all, aye, and more than this poor widow did, or could do, for her only son.

She has given you a noble birth in Jesus Christ. She nourished you, watched over, and cared for you, in your infancy. She flattered herself, poor mother, that you would do honor to her one day; she looked forward to the time when you would become her support. She was so bound up in you, that she often exclaimed with a truth, "Why do I live if it be not for my child?" Her very occupation, her unceasing labors were for you. How proud she was to see you increasing in grace with God and men, your manly soul strong in virtue; your conscience bright and fair to look upon as the face of an angel, thrilling her maternal heart with gladness, as she beheld reflected there the lineaments of the sacred countenance of her Divine Spouse.

Alas! that any thing so bright? and beautiful should ever know decay or death!

Hear the sad story. Disease came. Sin entered into your soul, as does the insidious pestilence into the very marrow of the bones. And now the frightened mother looks with dismay upon your changed features. {80} You are becoming emaciated, your soul, starving in sickness, is no longer cheerful with the love of God. Although so haggard and so woebegone, there is yet the hectic flush of the fever of passion. At times in the height of that fever your mind wanders: you do not know her, _her!_ your own dear mother? So low has sin brought you, so far has sin abased you, that you have forgotten your noble descent and your glorious destiny. The crime of disobedience to the law of God has done its work, and that soul which once walked so proudly erect now lies completely prostrated.

Oh! how that Mother Church prays for you! With outstretched arms to heaven she implores the divine mercy. "_Spare, O Lord, spare thy people, and give not thine heritage to reproach_." Leave me not alone without this only son of my heart, for whom Christ died! But you are in your agony now, and hear nothing. You are not moved to tears, as you would be, if you could but hear those agonizing prayers. {81} You lie indifferent to all around, while the disease fastens upon your very vitals: one sin after another, one temptation given way to after another, until the life-blood of your soul has frozen in its channels: and before your weeping, inconsolable mother, the Church--before God, and in sight of His holy Angels and Saints, you are dead! dead!! dead!!!

Like the fruitless church of Sardis, in the Apocalypse: "_Thou hast a name that thou livest, but art dead_." [Footnote 37]

[Footnote 37: Apoc. iii., 1.]

What are the signs, my brethren, by which you would pronounce a man dead? Surely, that he has no longer the use of any of his senses; that he can neither see, hear, taste, touch nor smell. If nothing remained to him but faint breathing, and a fluttering, feeble pulse, you would already weep for him as lost to you, and consider it only as the matter of a few moments to draw the sheet over his face, and prepare his shroud.

Now this is just the deplorable state of a man in mortal sin.

{82}

Let me illustrate this. If you saw a person walking upon a railroad track, and the train came thundering along directly in front of him, and yet he proceeded on his way, totally unmindful of your shouts and warnings of danger, you would throw up your hands and exclaim: "Ah! God have mercy on him, poor man; he must be totally blind and deaf--he is as good as dead." And so he is in effect; for the train passes over him, and scatters his mangled body hither and thither. Of what use to him was his power of motion? He had the name of a living man, and is dead. So death is coming upon you, sinner, sudden and destructive. How many sermons have you not heard upon that awful subject? How many warnings have you not had in the deaths, ever unlocked for, alas! too often unprovided for, among your friends, acquaintances, and in the very bosom of your family. You hear not, you see not; no warning will turn you from your fatal track. You are as good as dead.

If you saw a young girl walking to the brink of one of those dreadful precipices formed by the lofty palisades on the North River, and, despite the cries of her friends, she continued her walk, gazing up at the sky, would you not say: "Ah! poor thing, she must be killed; she is as good as dead." {83} Oh, young woman, you are walking upon the brink of a precipice, by your dangerous familiarities, your late hours, your improper company-keeping; and despite the cries of your father, your mother, the pleadings of your friends, and the warning voice of your confessor, your heedlessness in sin will destroy you, body and soul, and you must lose reputation, honor, salvation, eternity. Deaf to the voice of God, you are as good as dead.

Jesus daily prepares his divine banquet for you; but, alas! you have lost your spiritual taste for that heavenly food, and there is no life in you--you are dead; according to the words of the divine Saviour: "_Amen, Amen. I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you_." [Footnote 38]

[Footnote 38: St. John vi., 54.]

[Transcriber's note: The USCCB reference is: St. John vi., 53.]

The Lord strikes you with afflictions of various kinds: disease, loss of friends, misfortune in your business. He sends his angel of death to your very doors; but you are insensible to his chastisements: they affect you no more than if you were a statue of marble. Is not this to be indeed dead?

{84}

"_You have put on malediction as a vestment, and it has entered like water into your veins, and as oil into your bones_." [Footnote 39]

[Footnote 39: Psalms cviii., 18.]

[Transcriber's note: Psalms cviii ends at verse 14.]

Yes; corruption has commenced; you have become offensive as a corpse, of bad odor, and scandalous to the Christian community. The finger is pointed at you, your bad life is every where spoken of, but you do not believe it; like a corpse, you are not sensible of the disgust you excite. As the sister of Lazarus said to the Lord: "_It is now four days since he died, and already he stinketh_." Four days! Why, it is four months--four years--forty years, since _you_ died--since you committed mortal sin, and continued in it, oh! unrepentant sinner; and you have become insupportable. You have reaped the blasting curse you sowed: "_For he that soweth in the flesh, of the flesh also shall reap corruption_," the words of this day's Epistle. [Footnote 40]

[Footnote 40: Gal. vi., 8.]

Your dead soul is in the hands of the bearers, your companions in sin, your fellow cursers and blasphemers. The grog-shop keepers have got hold of you, and every step is a closer approach to the tomb, the gates of hell, the last home of fornicators, liars, and drunkards. {85} How insensible you lie in their hands! The multitude may weep, in company with your poor mother, piercing cries and sobs which are heard throughout heaven and hell, but make no impression on your dull ears. No! there is no sound [that] can wake you now, but the voice of Jesus Christ, or the last trump which will summon your guilty soul to judgment.

Will that voice of Jesus Christ be heard? I know not. Will the Lord be moved to pity toward his weeping Church? I know not. Will he touch the bier upon which you are stretched stark dead, and command those companions of yours in sin to stop? I know not. Will Jesus arrest the steps of that infamous woman, of those debased, pitiless, heartless, unfeeling dram-sellers? (Did I not say that the widow was right--that they are heartless and unfeeling?) I know not. What I do know is that, if Jesus is not moved to pity, if he does not strike fear into the heart of that young man or woman, your companion in sin, if the arm of the vengeance of Christ does not fall upon that grog-shop keeper,--no other sound will waken you, so dead in sin, but that one upon the Last Day, which rather than to hear, it were better for you to sleep in eternal oblivion.

{86}

"Ah! father," you say, "that's dreadful doctrine." Yes; and there is something more dreadful about it. It is true. What saith the Apostle? "_It is impossible for those who were once illuminated and have tasted the heavenly gift, and are fallen away, to be renewed again to penance, crucifying again to themselves the Son of God, and making him a mockery._" [Footnote 41]

[Footnote 41: Heb. vi., 4-6.]

What does this mean but that, when one has fallen away into mortal sin, it is as impossible for him to do any thing toward the salvation of his soul, as it is for a dead man to raise himself to life. Lay it to heart--a most important truth--that Almighty God owes you nothing; is not bound, nor has he promised, to give you grace beyond a certain degree; while he has most emphatically warned the sinner that the time will come, and who knows--oh! dreadful thought--but that it has already arrived for you, when he will withdraw his countenance from you, and leave you to the fate you have chosen, and so justly merited. Every child has amused himself on the banks of the river or brook, watching the eddies caused by the meeting of contrary currents, and observing how the brown leaves which have fallen from the trees into the stream are suddenly caught in the circling current and whirled about, approaching at each revolution nearer the centre of it. {87} Now, we are told by travellers, that in the vast ocean there are powerful and dangerous eddies of this sort, called whirlpools; and that large ships, if allowed to sail within their influence, are drawn in, and carried round and round, no longer obedient to the sails or rudder, and at last are completely swallowed up in the yawning vortex of whirling waters.

Oh! unrepentant sinner: you are the brown leaf, fallen from the tree of life into the water of iniquity. You are the ship which has lost its compass, and strayed within reach of the dizzy whirlpool. God stood upon the calm open sea, and each time that you came around he warned you of your danger. He did more; he sent strong and sufficient breezes of his holy grace; if you had taken advantage of them in trimming the sails, and putting up the helm, you might have escaped. {88} How many times did he not thus attempt your rescue: but you heeded him not. There was even something pleasant and intoxicating to be thus carried along in the powerful stream; and now you go faster and faster, nearer and nearer, until the yawning abyss opens upon your gaze, and you send forth a shriek for help, a cry of despair. But you are so dizzy that you cannot descry the form of God upon the sea. It is well; it would double your agony to see him now, for he has turned his back upon you; or worse, is mocking you, and laughs you to scorn. "_Because I called and you refused; I stretched out my hand, and there was none that regarded. You have despised all my counsel, and have neglected my reprehensions. I also will laugh in your destruction, and will mock when your fear cometh. When sudden calamity shall fall on you, and destruction as a tempest shall be at hand; when tribulation and distress shall come upon you; then shall they call upon me, and I will not hear_." [Footnote 42]

[Footnote 42: Prov. i., 24-28.]

{89}

There is no help for you now. Your cries of distress, and prayers and entreaties are drowned in the thundering din of the rushing waters: as our Lord prophesied. "_Upon the earth distress of nations, men withering away for fear, by reason of the confusion of the roaring of the sea, and of the waves_." [Footnote 43]

[Footnote 43: St. Luke xxi., 25.]