Epistle.
1 Corinthians ix. 24; x. 5.
Brethren:
Know you not that they who run in the race, all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize? So run that you may obtain.
And every one that striveth for the mastery refraineth himself from all things; and they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible one. I therefore so run, not as at an uncertainty: I so fight, not as one beating the air: but I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection: lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become reprobate. For I would not have you ignorant, brethren, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea. And all in Moses were baptized, in the cloud and in the sea; and they did all eat the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink (and they drank of the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ). But with the most of them God was not well pleased.
Gospel.
St. Matthew xx. 1-16.
At that time:
Jesus said to his disciples this parable: The kingdom of heaven is like to a master of a family, who went early in the morning to hire laborers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the laborers for a penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour and saw others standing in the market-place idle. And he said to them: Go you also into my vineyard, and I will give you what shall be just.

And they went their way. And again he went out about the sixth and the ninth hour, and did in like manner. But about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing, and he saith to them: Why stand you here all the day idle? They say to him: Because no man hath hired us. Ho saith to them: Go you also into my vineyard. And when evening was come, the lord of the vineyard saith to his steward: Call the laborers and pay them their hire, beginning from the last even to the first. When, therefore, they came, who had come about the eleventh hour, they received every man a penny. But when the first also came, they thought that they should have received more, and they also received every man a penny. And when they received it, they murmured against the master of the house, saying: These last have worked but one hour, and thou hast made them equal to us, that have borne the burden of the day and the heats. But he answering one of them, said: Friend, I do thee no wrong; didst thou not agree with me for a penny? Take what is thine and go thy way: I will also give to this last even as to thee. Or, is it not lawful for me to do what I will? is thy eye evil because I am good? So shall the last be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen.

Sermon XXXV.
Bodily Mortification.

"I chastise my body," says St. Paul in the Epistle of to-day, "and bring it into subjection." In these few words he gives us the great reason for the Catholic doctrine and practice of bodily mortification and penance, which Protestants so often find fault with.

"I chastise my body," he says, "and bring it into subjection"; that is, "I chastise it, because I want to bring it into subjection. I want to tame it, to become its master; so I give it a good beating, I starve it now and then, and treat it badly generally, that it may learn to obey me."

That is the great idea of mortification, my brethren, in a nutshell. Every one knows that if you want to break a vicious horse you have to put him through a pretty severe course of treatment before he will be subject to your will. And every one knows that the body is naturally unruly, like a vicious horse; the body is always craving for things which it would be better that it should not have, and it will have them in spite of us if we do not take care. So, to subject it thoroughly to reason, we must put it through a severe course; otherwise, some time or other, it will get the better of us, and have its own way.

And there is a great deal more need of taming our own bodies than there is of breaking horses. For the horse can only kill our body, but our bodies can kill our souls; and furthermore, if we do not want to take the trouble of breaking a horse, we can shoot him, or get somebody else to take him; but we can not in anyway lawfully get rid of our bodies till such time as God sees fit to take them from us. We are tied fast to them, and cannot get away. So we are absolutely obliged to conquer them, if we do not want to be conquered by them. In other words, if we do not want our bodies to be a frequent cause and occasion of mortal sin to us, we must to some considerable extent practise mortification.

That is the Catholic and true doctrine, as taught by the church, and put into practice, in some degree at least, by all the faithful who obey her laws. And it is also common sense. Every one must admit that the body is the great cause and source of mortal sin to far the greater number of people, and that if its appetites were thoroughly brought under control our souls would be saved from very great dangers, which otherwise they cannot escape. If, then, it is any object to escape these dangers—and no sensible man can deny that it is—one does not need to be a Christian, but only to have the gift of reason, and to look a little into himself and into the world about him, and he must grant that the bodily penances and mortifications which the church insists on are not foolish or superstitious, but in the highest degree prudent and wise.

But I know, my dear brethren, that you do not think that the mortification of the body required by the church is useless or superstitious; I give you too much credit for faith as well as for reason to imagine that. You do need courage, though—we all need it—to act up to what we believe in this matter. Let us then look this question fairly in the face. There is heaven before us to be gained, and sin to be overcome that we may gain it; and here are our bodies, with their depraved, corrupted, and often dangerous and sinful desires, standing in the way of our gaining it. If we will only determine in earnest to get the mastery of them, heaven is almost sure; if we do not, they will be very likely to carry us to hell. If we overcome them, we save ourselves and them, and make them a help instead of a hindrance to us; if not, they will do their best to drag us down with themselves to destruction, and if in the mercy of God we may indeed be saved it will be as by fire. Shall we not take a little trouble when such tremendous interests are at stake? Shall we trust to luck when a little effort will make heaven sure?

Watch ye, therefore,
because you know not the day nor the hour.
—Matthew. xxv. 13.

These words, my dear brethren, are taken from the parable of the ten virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom and the bride. Five of them, being wise and prudent, took oil in their lamps, that they might be ready at any moment to light them; but the five foolish ones gave no thought to the matter. At midnight, when they least expected it, the cry was heard, "Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye forth to meet him." Then the foolish virgins tried to borrow oil from the wise to fill their lamps, but were told to go and buy for themselves. While they were gone the bridegroom came; they were not ready; the door of the marriage-feast was closed when they returned, and in answer to their entreaty, "Lord, lord, open to us," came only the words, "I know you not." "Watch ye, therefore," says our Lord, in concluding this parable, "because you know not the day nor the hour."

Brethren, the meaning of this parable is so plain that it hardly needs even a word of explanation. Yet how unheeded it is, alas! by the majority of Christians!

What does this oil mean that the foolish virgins neglected to provide for themselves and to have in their lamps? What but the grace of God, with, which our souls should be provided, and without which they are in the state of mortal sin? If this precious oil of God's grace is in our souls we are ready at any moment to meet the Bridegroom; no matter how suddenly the cry is made that he is coming, we can go forth with confidence to meet him and feel sure that the door of the marriage-feast of heaven will not be closed to us.

But if we have not this oil, if the lamp of our soul is empty, if we are in the state of mortal sin, what dismay comes on us, what terrible fear and distress of mind, when we are suddenly told to prepare for death! We have been saying all along, "Oh! there will be plenty of time," and now there is not plenty of time. God is coming to meet us, and to demand of us an account of our lives; we cannot hide from his face, and he will not wait. The hour fixed in the eternal counsels of his wisdom has come, the hour on which everything depends, the hour for which the years of our life should have been one long preparation, those years so carelessly thrown away.

Friends may stand around us who have not wasted the oil in their lamps as we have ours. Their souls may be full of the grace of God, preserved and increased continually by prayer and good works, by the love of God and frequent confession and Communion. They may have enough and to spare; but they can not lend to us. "No," they must say to us, "go rather to them that sell, and buy for yourselves. Go rather," that is, "to the regular sources of that grace, the sacraments, which our Lord has placed in his church, to give life to the dead. Send for the priest, and with his help fill the lamp of your soul, and prepare to meet our Lord."

But too often it is as in the parable of the virgins. While the foolish Christian, who has put off his preparation for death, who has lived in the state of sin, expecting to die in the state of grace, goes to fill his lamp, his Lord comes, finds him, and judges him as he is. The priest comes, but only to look on him lying dead. Or even if the oil of grace is brought to the sinner, he has not, perhaps, the price to pay for it; that is, he has not those dispositions of sincere penitence and amendment of life, without which all sacraments are vain and ineffectual.

Brethren, it is a fearful point in the parable of the wise and foolish virgins that not one of the five who were so carelessly unprepared was able to have her lamp ready to meet the bridegroom in his coming. It should teach us to expect that, as a rule, a man must die as he has lived. No doubt there are exceptions; the mercy of God is over all, and wills not that the sinner should perish. But the only safe way, the only way, indeed, that is not the wildest folly, and even insanity, is to live as all good Christians do live, continually prepared for death; with the grace of God always in their souls, with no stain of mortal sin on them; with "their loins girt, and lamps burning in their hands"; and "like to men who wait for their lord when he shall return from the wedding: that when he cometh and knocketh they may open to him immediately."

Sermon XXXVII.
Life's Purpose.

Brethren, know you not that they that run in the race,
all run indeed, but one receiveth the prize?
So run, that you may obtain.

There is a great question, my dear brethren, that comes home some time or other to every man in the world who is not entirely taken up with the passing pleasures and fleeting interests of the moment; to every man, that is, who lives as a man, and not as a mere child. It is the most important and vital of all questions; and it will return often on us, put it away as much as we will. It is this: "What am I here for? what is the use, what is the purpose of all this life which I am living? What is the goal to which it is tending? what end do I hope to obtain?"

Yes, we must look forward in this way sometimes, and we must try to find something in the future better worth having than what we have now, or our life, with its labors and fatigues, becomes a burden almost too great to be borne.

So one man proposes wealth, another knowledge and learning, another fame and honor as his object in life; or at least he looks forward to bringing up children to whom he can leave his memory and his name, and who will carry on and complete the work he has begun.

But we Christians do not seek for an answer to this question. The answer is written plainly by faith in our souls; we may try to forget it or put something else in its place, but we shall find no other in which we can believe. The answer for us is, that this life has no end or object in itself which can justify or explain it, but that it is a time of trial, of probation for something better; that we live in order that it may be seen from our life whether we are worthy to share in an eternal life; that only beyond the grave can what the soul longs for be attained, and that we may fail in attaining it if we do not keep it steadily in view and work for it with all the strength we have.

So our life is a race, a struggle for an immense and unspeakable prize to come at its end; and a prize which will never be offered again if we do not secure it this time. If we fail in this life our failure can never be retrieved; nor will anything else ever be offered us to live for. For all eternity we shall see what we might have had, and shall be tortured with vain remorse; and nothing else will give us even a moment's peace. This eternity will be intolerable, even were there no other pains in it; but on account of this alone we shall seek death for ever, and never find it.

And from this race, this struggle in which we are now entered, there is no escape. We cannot withdraw and have our name struck from the list of contestants. There is no half-way place which we can take between triumph and defeat. "Know you not," says St. Paul, "that all run in the race?" Yes, a power greater than ours has put us on the track, and is drawing us along it, whether we will or no. We cannot remain as we are, for He whose power has placed us here has made us for himself, and we cannot rest till we rest in him.

Since, then, we have to run in the race; since we have to suffer, to labor, to pursue a happiness which we now have not; since we must do this even in spite of ourselves; since we cannot sit down and give up our place, what folly it is to run to no purpose, to turn aside and try to forget the only possible reward for all our toil, the only thing that can make the life which we must live worth living! Let St. Paul's words on this Sunday sink into our minds; and, since we have to run in this race on which everything depends, let us not trifle and lose its precious moments, but so run that we may obtain.