Epistle.
1 St. Peter ii. 21-25.
Dearly beloved:
Christ has suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." Who, when he was reviled, did not revile: when he suffered, he threatened not: but delivered himself to him that judged him unjustly. Who his own self bore our sins in his body upon the tree: that we, being dead to sins, should live to justice: by whose stripes you were healed. For you were as sheep going astray: but you are now converted to the pastor and bishop of your souls.
Gospel.
St. John x. 11-16.
At that time:
Jesus said to the Pharisees: I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep. But the hireling, and he that is not the shepherd, whose own sheep they are not, seeth the wolf coming and leaveth the sheep, and flieth; and the wolf snatcheth and scattereth the sheep: and the hireling flieth, because he is a hireling: and he hath no care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd: and I know mine, and mine know me. As the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep. And other sheep I have, that are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd.
Sermon LXVII.
The Good Shepherd.
For you were as sheep going astray;
but you are now converted
to the pastor and bishop of your souls.
—1 St. Peter ii. 25.
To-day is the Sunday of the Good Shepherd, and the church sings in joyful strains: "The Good Shepherd, who laid down his life for his sheep, yea, who was contented even to die for his flock, the Good Shepherd is risen again—Alleluia!" It is in this tender, loving, and, to us, most winning character that our Lord presents himself in the Gospel of to-day—the Good Shepherd, who knoweth his sheep, and acknowledges them as his own, whose tender care for them is so great that he is willing even to lay down his life for their sake, yet with the power to take it again for his own glory and for their eternal good. We are those sheep for whom he died, and for whom he rose again, for they are in the truest sense his sheep who believe in his name, and are gathered into his one fold, the holy Catholic Church.
But it is not enough to believe; we must also hear his voice. How have we done this in the past? Have we hearkened to his voice as he spake to us through the offices of the church, through the words of our pastors, through the still, small voice of conscience? Alas! we have been as sheep going astray. We have been deaf to his voice, as it has so often spoken to us, bidding us follow him. And, having strayed away from our Shepherd, we have refused to listen to the loving tones of that same sweet voice, calling us back to our place in the flock, but have wandered still further away into the pleasant pastures of sin, where all seemed delight for a time, but where the wolf, the great enemy of our souls, was lurking, waiting for his chance to seize us as his prey for ever. Oh! into what danger have we run by thus wandering from the right path! But now, during the holy season of Lent that is passed, the church has been appealing to us through her solemn offices, and through the earnest words spoken by her ministers, to forsake our evil ways, to leave the deceitful pleasures of sin, and return to where we can alone find pasture for our souls, to the sacraments of the church, wherein the Good Shepherd gives himself to his sheep. Many have hearkened to the call of the Saviour's voice, many have come during this holy time to the green pastures and the still waters, where the Good Shepherd feeds his flock, and, with souls restored and renewed, are prepared and determined to walk hereafter in the paths of righteousness, where he leads the way. Even when at last they shall walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death they will fear no evil, for he will be with them, his rod and his staff shall comfort them.
But there are also many, far too many, who have not listened to the voice of Jesus, as he calls them in this blessed Easter-tide. Poor, wayward sheep, they still wander in paths of their own choosing, which can only lead them into danger and into death. O foolish, wandering ones! take heed ere it is too late to the gentle voice that calls you. Your souls are soiled and sin-stained, and you have need to be washed in the stream which flows from your Shepherd's side, his Precious Blood shed for you when he laid down his life for your sake. Come, wash and be made clean in the Sacrament of Penance which he has ordained for your cleansing. You were as sheep going astray; be now converted and return to Jesus, the pastor, the shepherd, the bishop of your souls. You have been famishing for the food you need for your spiritual sustenance. Come, then, to him who so graciously and tenderly invites you to the table which he has prepared for you. Draw nigh with joy to the heavenly banquet of his Sacred Body and the goodly, overflowing cup of his Precious Blood, that your souls may be fed and have life eternal. Then will you be strong in the presence of your enemies, his mercy will follow you all the days of your life, and you will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever, even in that house of many mansions which he has prepared for those who love and follow him. For he has said of those who hear his voice and follow him: "I give them life everlasting, and they shall not perish for ever, and no man shall snatch them out of my hand." And remember that other promise of his: "He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood has everlasting life, and I will raise him up at the last day." Yes, poor, lost sheep though we have been, if we now turn from our wayward paths to hear his voice and follow him, he will raise us up at the last day, and place us among his favored sheep upon his right hand, to be glad for ever in the light of his countenance.
Sermon LXVIII.
Dead Faith.
That Christ may dwell by faith in your hearts.
—Ephesians iii. 17.
Holy Writ teaches us in many places, my brethren, that God dwells in our hearts by charity, and here we are taught that he dwells by faith also. Of course, the meaning is the same. For an elect soul to know Christ is to love him. And even for a reprobate soul to know the truth of religion is that indescribable boon which makes a possible salvation capable of becoming quickly real. How terrible the misfortune of the Calvinist who believes that a bad life necessarily means absence of faith! How consoling to know that our sinful friends, if they have but the true faith, have a seed of eternal life which may yet spring up into a fruitful tree!
Yet it is terrible to think of how some men trifle with their faith. Brethren, look at the end and judge the beginning by it. The end of wicked men is damnation, hopeless and eternal. Now, what is the faith in hell? Something that makes the Christian's torment altogether peculiar. There the name of Christian, now so noble, now entitling its bearer to pardon for every sin if but breathed forth with an act of sorrow—there the name of Christian will be a nickname. In one way he will have more faith then than now; he will know more of revealed truth, have a clearer knowledge of heavenly things. But then the hand wounded by the nail, and which now is never out of reach, will be withdrawn finally and for ever. Imagine the agony of a soul in hell, whom each article of faith will cause for ever to wail and weep only this one sentence: "It is all my own fault." Brethren, you may complain that this sort of preaching does not provoke to much mirth. But there are those who should know that for them this ought to be a time of weeping and not of being merry: persons who have faith in their hearts, but not Christ. For see how men in Italy, holding fast to the truth with one hand, have with the other set up the abomination of desolation in the holy place. And see how, in France, men who deem themselves insulted if called anything but Catholics, yet deliberately rob the children of the people of the bread of life by establishing paganism in the schools. And see how many there are among us whose faith, instead of being a rule to live by, an irresistible attraction towards our Lord in a true grief for sin and strict union with him, sealed by frequent Communion, is but something handed down from father to son, like name and color and race—a traditional faith—and this proved by their vicious lives.
But happy are they in whose hearts faith has prepared a dwelling for our Saviour. Our Lord is surely present within us if we are in the state of grace. Hear what he says: "If any one love me, he will keep my word; and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make an abode with him." He comes, indeed, silently; he hushes the festive greetings of the angels who escort him; he hides the dazzling glory of his ascended triumph, for now it is faith and not sight. But there in the heart he none the less dwells. We live with him. The Christian feels his presence. He has an interior life whose very breath is that presence. He is stamped with our Lord's character. Such a soul is truly and literally called faithful—faith-full. And once you are intimately acquainted with him you perceive in his ways and actions that our Lord lives with him. Better yet, he perceives it himself. How different he is from one whose knowledge of religion is mere persuasion of the mind and empty talk! With the true Christian knowledge is power. To know the true faith is for him to know how to live: better yet, to know how to suffer, how to wait, how to love, how to die.
Brethren, this congregation is divided into two parts—those who are to be saved and those who are not. Those of you who are to be saved are those in whose hearts Jesus Christ actually dwells by faith. Those who are to be lost are those whose faith means that Christ has a claim against them, payment of which they will postpone till it is too late.
Sermon LXIX.
Suffering False Accusations.
He delivered himself to him that judged him unjustly.
—Epistle of the Day.
I suppose, my dear brethren, that there is no grievance to which we are subjected more common, and certainly there are few more distressing, than that of being judged unfairly by others. As Catholics we are all specially liable to this; we all know how Protestants, even those who profess to be quite friendly to us personally, and who sometimes will say a good word or two for our religion, still calmly assume, as a matter of course, that we believe and practise many things which we and all intelligent and honest men detest and abhor. They say, for instance, that we worship images; that we pay money not only to have our sins forgiven, but even for permission in advance to commit new ones; that we believe the pope to be Almighty God; that we maintain that the end justifies the means; and so on to any extent. It was only a few days ago that it was unblushingly stated in an assembly of one of their sects that the Catholic Church was more guilty in the matter of permitting divorce than other denominations. There seems hardly to be a falsehood about us so gross or so absurd that some of them will not be found to believe and to assert it.
And we of the clergy are more exposed to these slanders than any one else. They say, they take for granted, that we are hypocrites and deceivers; that under a cloak of sanctity we practise all kinds of vice; that we do not believe a word of what we teach; that our only object in our profession is to exercise power or to make money; these things and many others pass current in the world about us, so we are looked upon by many as detestable wretches not fit to live. In us, especially, are our Lord's words fulfilled: "You shall be hated by all men for my name's sake."
But it is not only from outsiders, or in matters where religion is concerned, that we have to put up with false charges and unjust suspicions. In our own private character and actions we all find ourselves liable to them; we find our neighbors and acquaintances judging and even speaking unfairly about us. Priests suffer in this way sometimes from their own parishioners; the laity perhaps from the priest, and often certainly from each other. How frequently we hear people complain of slander or belying from those whom they supposed to be their friends; one would think that it was not the exception, but the rule.
Now all this is certainly very hard to bear. And yet as we go through life we cannot expect to be free from it; and we must try to find a way of bearing it as well as we can. What is the best way?
One way, and a very good way, of putting up with this trouble is to make allowances for the unavoidable prejudice, ignorance, and imperfection of those who say about us what we know to be false, who do to us what we know to be unjust. They may not, they do not, know this as well as we do. "Father, forgive them," said our Lord on the cross, "for they know not what they do." We think others are slandering or injuring us through malice; ten to one they think they are in the right. Probably we ourselves should act just the same way in their place.
Make allowances, then; give our neighbors more credit for good intentions; that is one way to put up with this suffering which we cannot altogether avoid or put a stop to. But a better and perhaps an easier way is the one recommended by St. Peter in to-day's Epistle. "Dearly beloved," he says, "Christ suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps. Who did no sin, neither was guilt found in his mouth. Who, when he was reviled, did not revile; when he suffered he threatened not, but delivered himself to him that judged him unjustly." He, the holy, the innocent one, was more wickedly and unjustly accused and judged than any of us sinners have been, or ever can be; shall we not then bear, if need be, the same treatment for his sake? To be spoken evil of falsely is to be like him; it is the mark, the badge of the Christian. This is the example he has left us that we should follow his steps; shall we refuse to profit by it?
