Epistle.
Ephesians vi. 10-17.
Brethren:
Be strengthened in the Lord, and in the might of his power. Put you on the armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the snares of the devil. For our wrestling is not against flesh and blood: but against principalities and powers, against the rulers of the world of this darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places. Wherefore take unto you the armor of God, that you may be able to resist in the evil day, and to stand in all things perfect. Stand, therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of justice: and your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace: in all things taking the shield of faith, wherewith you may be able to extinguish all the fiery darts of the most wicked one. And take unto you the helmet of salvation; and the sword of the Spirit (which is the word of God).
Gospel.
St. Matthew xviii. 23-35.
At that time Jesus spoke to his disciples this parable:
The kingdom of heaven is likened to a king, who would take an account of his servants. And when he had begun to take the account, one was brought to him that owed him ten thousand talents. And as he had not wherewith to pay it, his lord commanded that, he should be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. But that servant, falling down, besought him, saying: Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And the lord of that servant being moved with compassion, let him go, and forgave him the debt. But when that servant was gone out, he found one of his fellow-servants that owed him a hundred pence; and laying hold of him, he throttled him, saying: Pay what thou, owest. And his fellow-servant, falling down, besought him, saying: Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. Now his fellow-servants, seeing what was done, were very much grieved, and they came and told their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him, and said to him: Thou wicked servant! I forgave thee all the debt, because thou besoughtest me: shouldst not thou then have had compassion also on thy fellow-servant, even as I had compassion on thee? And his lord being angry, delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all the debt. So also shall my heavenly Father do to you, if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts.

Sermon CXLI.
Forgiveness Of Injuries.

Shouldst not thou then have had compassion
on thy fellow-servant,
even as I had compassion on thee?
—St. Matthew, xviii. 33

These words of to-day's Gospel are spoken by our Lord to every one who has been wanting in charity to his neighbor. Each one of us, as a servant of God, as a steward of the gifts, both temporal and spiritual, which he has entrusted to us that we may use them for the furtherance of his honor and glory, is a heavy debtor to the divine justice. But his mercy and love are always ready to temper his justice, if only we show the proper dispositions, if only we bend our rebellious wills to the condition he requires of us, without which it is impossible for us to obtain forgiveness. This condition is found in the oft-repeated but little thought of petition of the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those that trespass against us." The servant in the parable received forgiveness from his lord for the sum of ten thousand talents (a very large sum of money), yet he was unmerciful to his fellow-servant, who owed him a hundred pence. The difference between these sums is by no means so great as the difference between our offences against Almighty God and those of our brethren against us. If we could only realize who it is that we have offended, and then reflect as well upon our ingratitude in offending him, as upon the innumerable benefits he has showered upon us, we might form some faint idea of the gravity of our sin, and of the immense debt that we owe to his justice. We could not then refuse forgiveness to our neighbor for the trifling, and perhaps merely fancied, injuries that we may have suffered from him. "With what measure you shall mete, it shall be measured to you again." "If you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts," you cannot hope for pardon from God.

How, then, can we best practise this forgiveness which is so necessary for us? In the first place, it must be earnest and sincere forgiveness. It must be "from your hearts," as our Lord says. No mere outward show of forgiveness will be enough, for God sees the heart, and no appearances will satisfy him. But, on the other hand, the forgiveness will not be real and earnest unless it be shown outwardly. Many profess their willingness to forgive who yet show resentment and a spirit of revenge in many little ways, by looks, words, and actions which prove that there is no real forgiveness in the heart. Then again we find persons who, when they are urged to forgive some wrong, answer: "Well, father, I suppose I must forgive, if you tell me so." It is plain that this is but a very unwilling and faint-hearted forgiveness, which, will not answer before God. Why will not the generosity of God towards us lead us to show a like spirit towards our brethren?

We should strive to forgive offences the moment they are committed against us. Our natural impulse when any insult is offered to us is to resent it at once, and pay back in the same coin. How different is this from the example set us by our Lord, "Who, when he was reviled, did not revile; when he suffered, he threatened not." We should check the first uprisings of resentment, and keep back the angry reply, in imitation of our Blessed Lord's silence before his accusers and tormentors. By the practice of this Christian silence many a feud of long continuance would be prevented.

We must also "lay aside all malice," and be ready, when an injury has been done, to be reconciled with our offending brother. This is often very hard for us to do, and very repugnant to our natural inclinations, but it is, nevertheless, absolutely necessary. If we bear malice towards any one, we are not worthy of the name of Christians, or followers of Christ.

Try, then, to put in practice the teaching of this day's Gospel, and forgive from your heart those who have offended you, showing your forgiveness by your words and acts. There is nothing more scandalous and injurious to the Christian name than constant quarrels and long-continued animosities between those who go regularly to the sacraments. Follow, then, the injunction of St. Paul: "Let all bitterness, and anger, and indignation, and clamor, and blasphemy be taken away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind to one another, merciful, forgiving one another, even as God has forgiven you in Christ."

Sermon CXLII.
Gossiping.

Laying hold of him he throttled him, saying:
Pay me what thou owest.
—Words Taken From To-day's Gospel.

The Gospel of this Sunday, my dear brethren, inculcates in the strongest possible way the distinctively Christian virtue of brotherly love—the duty, that is, of cherishing a spirit of charity and consideration for other men, and especially of forgiving any injuries which they may have done us. This obligation is, however, so clearly and frequently and earnestly enforced in the New Testament, and from our earliest days has been brought home to us in so many ways, that at first sight it might seem that I could do something better this morning than to go back to such an old and familiar subject. And yet, old and familiar as it is, every-day life affords so many proofs that we do not carry our knowledge into practice that I am sure that nine in every ten, perhaps ninety-nine in every hundred, stand in need of being reminded of this old and familiar though badly learned lesson.

For of what is the every-day talk of most women and a great number of men made up, if not of ill-natured criticism and depreciation of their acquaintances, neighbors, and even friends? In the words of St. Paul, are we not continually biting and devouring one another? Are not the newspapers filled with stories which pander to this uncharitable spirit? What, in short, is more common than detraction, and even slander? Yet even these evils, grave and deadly as they are, are but small compared with other manifestations of this same uncharitable spirit. Why, I have been told of people who have worked side by side in the same work-shop, attended the same church, even knelt at the same altar-rail, and yet, for some trifling cause or other, have refused to speak to one another for years! What trouble priests have with people who come to confession to them! Sometimes the very most they can get is a vague, half-hearted expression of forgiveness, but on no account can they in some cases induce their penitents to extend to one another that which is due to every man, be he Jew or Turk, Catholic or Protestant—the ordinary salutations which civility requires.

Now, that all this is wrong is evident. Not one of us is so blind as not to be able to see that. But what the Gospel to-day points out, and what I wish to present to your serious consideration this morning, is the very unpleasant consequences which will infallibly follow upon such conduct. We know the story very well. A slave is in debt to his master for a very large amount—an amount which, while quite willing, he is utterly unable to pay. His master releases him from this debt. Whereupon this fine fellow, meeting a brother-slave who owed him a paltry sum, accosts him in the brutal manner mentioned in the text, demands immediate payment of the money, and, not withstanding the debtor's entreaties and his willingness to make it good as soon as possible, locks him up in prison until the amount is forthcoming. Thereupon his conduct is brought to the knowledge of their master. He at once summons the wicked slave before him and "delivers him to the torturers until he pays all the debt." Then our Lord says, and I ask for your serious attention to his words: "So also shall my Heavenly Father do to you if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts."

Of course, it is unnecessary to point out how strictly this applies to us. Many other texts might be cited from the Gospels to the same effect. One only I will mention, and that is, that we cannot say an "Our Father" without making the very forgiveness of our sins, which we ask for, dependent upon our forgiveness of the faults of others. We must forgive if we wish to be forgiven, and this forgiveness must be from the heart; no mere form of words, sufficient to satisfy men, but it must be a forgiveness sincere and genuine, such as to satisfy God, the searcher of hearts, before whom we must appear to give an account of our whole life.

Sermon CXLIII.
Mixed Marriages.

I wish to give a short instruction on the Sacrament of Matrimony this morning.

If a marriage with a merely nominal Catholic be fraught with dangerous consequences, and be the cause of much disturbance and anxiety to one who wishes to be a Christian in deed as well as in name—and that it is so I think all will agree—what shall we say of a mixed marriage, as it is called—of the union of a Catholic with one who holds religious views opposed to the faith of the church, or who, perhaps, has no belief or religion at all? How can any true harmony or peace be expected when there is discordance in the matter of religion, which lies nearest to the heart, and is more thoroughly interwoven in all the ideas, opinions, feelings, and practices of a practical Catholic than any other whatever?

Sympathy, union of interests and desires, of plans, hopes, and efforts, must exist in all true friendship; nay, more, without it association or companionship of any kind soon becomes a burden. There is no remedy for this except by dropping or putting in the back ground those aspirations and affections which are not shared by the other party. And what is true of all friendship is, of course, true above all of that which should be the highest, nearest, and dearest of all friendships—namely, that of marriage. The only way for a Catholic to be at all happy in a mixed marriage is to put religion in the background; to regard it, as, unfortunately, too many do, as a matter of very little importance; as something to be professed, indeed, and occasionally practised, but which is to have no special influence on the general course and tenor of one's life.

How can a Catholic wife, for instance, who is earnest about her religion be really happy with a husband who cannot attach any importance to, or see any sense in, her practices of devotion; to whom holy Mass, Benediction, the sacraments, the veneration of the saints and angels, and many other things which are her great helps and consolations in life, are mere idle mummeries and superstitions; who looks contemptuously on her observance of Lent, of Fridays, and fast days; who considers all the teachings and laws of the church an imposition and a fraud, to be done away with as far as possible; who, in short, either looks forward to nothing at all beyond this life, or, if he hopes for heaven, has a different one from hers, and seeks for it in a different way? The only plan that can be followed to secure even a seeming peace and agreement is to bring down the Catholic religion to its lowest level, to make out that it is not so very different from Protestantism after all; to be content with Mass on Sundays; to eat meat on Fridays whenever it is more convenient; to let the pope and the church generally get on as best they can, and to say no more about them than can be helped. Yes, this mixture even in the Catholic party of Catholic and Protestant is only too likely to be the result of a mixed marriage.

I know that it may be said, and with truth, that Protestants are not always prejudiced against our religion; that sometimes a Protestant husband is not only willing but anxious that his Catholic wife should attend thoroughly to her religious duties; and we find cases of Protestant wives even becoming Catholics, mainly, as it would seem, to induce by their example a more faithful practice of religion in their Catholic husbands. But these are results which we have no right to expect—no, not even if they are promised beforehand. And too often we find a state of things in a mixed marriage much worse than what I have described. We find, in spite of the most solemn promises made beforehand, a bitter and shameless persecution; Mass and the sacraments forbidden; children denied not only Catholic instruction, but even the grace of baptism; the priest not allowed in the house even in time of sickness, and nearly all hope gone of receiving the last rites of the church at the hour of death. We do not wish to blame the Protestant party too much in these cases; he may be acting according to his conscience, but such a conscience, though perhaps good enough for him, is not one which a Catholic should run the risk of being governed by.