Epistle.
Romans. viii. 18-23.
Brethren:
I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us. For the expectation of the creature waiteth for the revelation of the sons of God. For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him that made it subject, in hope: because the creature also itself shall be delivered from the servitude of corruption into the liberty of the glory of the children of God. For we know that every creature groaneth, and is in labor even till now. And not only it, but ourselves also, who have the first-fruits of the spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the adoption of the sons of God, the redemption of our body, in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Gospel.
St. Luke v. 1-11.
At that time:
When the multitudes pressed upon Jesus to hear the word of God, he stood by the lake of Genesareth. And he saw two ships standing by the lake: but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were washing their nets. And going up into one of the ships that was Simon's, he desired him to thrust out a little from the land. And sitting down, he taught the multitudes out of the ship. Now when he had ceased to speak, he said to Simon: Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. And Simon answering, said to him: Master, we have labored all the night and have taken nothing: but at thy word I will let down the net. And when they had done this, they enclosed a very great multitude of fishes, and their net was breaking. And they beckoned to their partners that were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they were almost sinking; which when Simon Peter saw, he fell down at Jesus knees, saying: Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord. For he was wholly astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had taken. And so were also James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were Simon's partners. And Jesus saith to Simon: Fear not, from henceforth thou shalt be taking men. And when they had brought their ships to land, leaving all things, they followed him.
Sermon XCI.
How To Suffer.
Brethren: I reckon that the sufferings of this present time
are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come,
that shall be revealed in us.
—Epistle of the Day.
I think, my brethren, that there are few good and faithful Christians who do not have, as they journey through life, a fair share of crosses, trials, and sufferings. Sometimes these crosses are not noticed much by other people, but they are heavy enough for those who have to bear them. The priest hears more of the troubles of the world, as well as of its sins, than any one else; misery is a very old story to him; and he has his own trials, too, in plenty, though many think that in his state of life he has mostly avoided them. Yes, trouble and suffering seem to be, and indeed they really are, the rule of life for Christians, happiness rather the exception; unless we are willing to get what some call happiness by disregarding the law of God.
Now this is a very unpleasant fact; but it is a fact, and we have to accept it. But how shall we best do so? That is a point which it will be well to consider.
Shall we simply take our trouble because we cannot help it, and fret as little as we can, because fretting only makes it worse? Or shall we take comfort by thinking that others are in the same plight as ourselves; by believing, though perhaps we cannot see it, that our luck, though hard, is not harder than that of most of those around us?
These would be two pretty good ways of getting along for one who had no better. But it would be a shame for us to fall back on them. One who has faith should be able to find a better way than either of these.
"Yes," you may say, "I know what you mean; a Christian ought to be resigned to God's holy will. We are taught and we believe that all things come to us by the providence of God; that he is all-wise and infinitely good; so, when he sends us anything hard to bear, we must say, 'Thy will be done,' and know by faith that it is for the best."
Now I do not want to say anything against this way of bearing trouble; it is a good way, and it is a Christian way; none more so. And perhaps some times it is the only one that will seem possible. But after all it is not exactly what I mean, or it is not at any rate all that I mean; and it is not what the great Apostle St. Paul, whose glorious and triumphant death, after a life of suffering, we commemorate with that of St. Peter to-day, meant in those immortal words which I just read.
"I reckon," says he, "that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us."
That is his consolation. "We have," he says to us, "a little to suffer here, but what is it after all? A drop, bitter it is true, but still only a drop, against an eternal torrent of joy with which God is going to overwhelm our souls. Truly it is not worthy to be compared in its passing bitterness to the ocean of delight of which it is the earnest for the future. It is, in fact, the little price which we have to pay for that future; and it is not worth speaking of when we think what it will bring."
Indeed, my brethren, it must be a matter of astonishment to the angels, it ought to be so to us, that we think so little of the heaven which God has prepared for us. We profess to believe in it; we do believe in it; but we seem to forget all about it. We can have it if we will; moreover, these very crosses and trials, if we have them, are a sign that our Lord means almost to force it on us. Let us, then, think more of heaven; meditate on it, look forward to it. The thought of heaven was the joy and strength of the martyrs; why should it not be the constant support of ordinary Christians, too?
Sermon XCII.
Good Works Done In Mortal Sin.
Master, we have labored all the night,
and have taken nothing.
—Gospel of the Day.
The Gospel of to-day tells us, my dear brethren, how St. Peter and his companions, after wearying themselves with dragging their heavy nets the whole night, had caught nothing for all their pains; and how, as soon as our Lord appeared, and they were able to work with his guidance and help, they took more fish than their boats would hold.
There is a most important spiritual lesson contained in this simple story. This miraculous draught of fish is, as it were, a parable, acted out instead of told by our Divine Saviour. And its meaning is this: that those who work in the night of the soul which is caused by mortal sin have indeed much trouble, sorrow, and labor, but it is all for nothing. All that they do and suffer while remaining in this state counts for nothing in their favor in the eternal account of God. Whereas, on the other hand, the slightest action of one who is in the state of grace, and who, therefore, works in union with Christ, has attached to it a great and imperishable glory in the kingdom of heaven.
St. Paul also teaches us this quite explicitly. "If I should distribute," says he, "all my goods to feed the poor, and if I should deliver my body to be burned, and have not charity" (that is, the love of God, which makes the state of grace), "it profiteth me nothing." Whereas, on the other hand, he says, for himself and others who are united to God by grace, that "what is at present momentary and light of our tribulation worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory."
This is, I say, my brethren, a most important truth. Do you fairly understand it? Do you take in its full meaning and application? Let us look at and study it as much as possible in these few minutes; then let us take it home with us, meditate on it, and make it thoroughly our own.
All of us have our labors, trials, and pains; some arc heavily burdened with them. To work and to suffer is the lot of all, from which there is no escape. We cannot avoid our destiny; we must make the best of it.
Yes, that is just it; we must make the best of it; if we have any prudence, any true love or care for our happiness, we will make the best of it, and not the worst. Why suffer this poverty, this sickness, this worry and distress of mind? Why do all this hard work? Why go through all these long and weary days, and get nothing in reward for all our labor and suffering but the mere means with which to keep up this painful and toilsome life, and to sweeten it, perhaps, with some fleeting sensual pleasures? Why not have something to show for all our trouble at the end of our time here on earth? Why not make it, as we may, into a crown to take with us into that life which has no end?
This is what those do who remain in the grace of God, who commit no mortal sin, or who, if they ever fall into it, repent and free themselves from it with out delay. All their pains and all their labors are recorded in heaven, and treasured up to be woven into a crown of merit for such as persevere to the end. God is with them, as with St. Peter on the lake of Genesareth; they work for him, and in the light of his presence, and their slightest actions obtain a rich reward.
But those who foolishly think that to remain thus is a task beyond their strength, who pass their lives in mortal sin, and only seldom and for a short time rise from it, have the same trouble; and at the end, if indeed they come to God then and enter heaven, being saved as by fire, they find no treasure of good works gone before them. "Master," they have to say, "we have worked all night and have taken nothing. We have worked in the night of sin all our life."
Let us not, then, follow their example. Let us not run their fearful risk of not obtaining salvation at all; and let us also determine that when we are saved we will have a life well filled with the fruits of grace to lay at our Saviour's feet, for which we may merit to hear him say: "Well done, good and faithful servant; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord."
Sermon XCIII.
Fishing For Men.
Master, we have labored all the night,
and have taken nothing.
St. Peter was without doubt a good fisherman, and a patient one, as all good fishermen are. He was content to fish all night with such poor luck as to catch nothing at all.
But after he had taken our Lord on board his ship it seemed as if all the fish in the lake were anxious to be caught. Such a wonderful haul was made that St. Peter and all the other fishermen were dumfounded with astonishment. How mightily they were all pleased may well be imagined.
Now, I think there is in our day something going on very like St. Peter's fishing all night and catching no fish. The Catholic Church is the ship of Peter, and he who exercises the authority of master in that ship, together with his mates and other officers, are holding the place which St. Peter was exalted to when our Lord made him the master fisherman of men. That is, the Holy Father, the pope, the bishops and priests are fishing for men, and our Lord promised that they should catch them, too.
In a certain degree, also, everyone on board Peter's ship—all Catholics—have to do with this great work—the spreading out the nets and drawing souls into the true church.
For some time there have been some efforts made to catch a certain kind of fish known as Protestants, and there is another sort, also becoming common in these waters of ours, called Infidels. And it seems to me that there has been a good deal of fishing all night long, and not half the haul made that was hoped for. We feel like repeating St. Peter's complaint —"Lord, we have labored all the night and taken nothing."
The fishermen know their business, and they have worked hard. No trouble on that score. When may we hope that the promise of our Lord will be fulfilled and labor shall be crowned with success? I'll tell you. It will be after Christ has taught his divine doctrine from the ship, and when he can say to us, "Now let down your nets."
If there is anything both true and astonishing it is the prevailing ignorance of their own or of any other religion among Protestants and infidels. You would think that, among so many learned and well-to-do people who have every advantage of education and general information at hand, they would not only know what they believed, but also the reasons why. They make a great boast of knowing, some of them, all the good that there is in the Bible, and others all of what they call absurdities and contradictions in the holy volume. You need not be afraid of all this supposed knowledge. In fact, some read the Bible very little, and great numbers of them don't hear half of what the majority of us Catholics hear in church. Catechize them, and it will soon appear that they are densely ignorant of all religion. How can we hope that such people will admire all the beauties of our faith, and appreciate all the powerful and logical arguments in favor of this or that truth, who are so lacking in information about the very rudiments of religion?
I meet such people frequently, who are, nevertheless, regular hearers and worshippers of the best preachers of our day, or who pick up here and there some sayings of the pretentious philosopher of the hour.
Christ must teach this multitude from the ship of Peter, and he will do so when he can say of us, "Whoso heareth you, heareth me"—that is, when you and I so live up to our faith that when they hear us they hear a Christ speak, and when what we speak is for their instruction and suited to their great ignorance of divine things. We must be simple and plain in our instructions when directed to them.
Moreover, we must thrust this instruction of the first things every Christian (be he child or man) ought to know upon them in all charity; and be quick about it, for without it they will be in imminent peril of losing their souls. They are good enough according to what they know. They, like the best of us, love truth, and are really hungering for what is unquestionably for their greater happiness. Oh! if we Catholics would only live like Christ and speak like Christ, then it would be high time to let down the net. Protestants and infidels would rush in crowds to be taken. Priests would not know where to find room for the converts.
Enter into the work of spreading Christian doctrine, then. Buy Catholic books of instruction. Buy a good many and give away a good many. It may set them thinking. And the reading of good, plain instructions, like the simple words of our Lord, will set them to praying as well. When a Protestant or an infidel once begins to pray to know the truth, it will be sure to lead him into the net that is let down from St. Peter's ship, only too happy to be numbered among those taken by the divinely-appointed fishers of men.